My time in New Zealand is coming to its end! Already we are so close to the end of the semester and this blog, albeit forced, has been a learning experience in patience, creativity and keeping my mind open enough to learn.
This semester’s work is coalescing in what I feel will be a powerful project in visual public discourse. The assignment I am introducing to you now requires that we make a public piece about an issue of social importance to myself and my partner. I’m very excited about this!
I am happy to announce I will be working with my partner, Jing, to make a perpetual motion machine similar to the Sisyphus Machine in the video below. But this box is not simply a toy. It will be a powerful statement. Using what we have learned from Mirzeoff, experts in visual communication, and our extracurricular passions thus far, Jing and I will use this machine to make a valuable point about human intervention in nature.
This blog will be regularly updated to reflect the project as well as educate people further on the subject so that we can help inform the public as to the roles of science and medicine in the world today. Look forward to the following:
We will outline how we got the idea in this blog below.
Where did we get such an idea?!
Prior to joining design school Jing was a pre-med student with an avid love of human physiology, science, and biology. My freshman anthropology teacher was also a medicinal anthropologist and I developed from her an interest in human evolution and anthropology of medicine. As an activist and a trans person my own healthcare is also in danger in the united states because I am on Medicaid.
So when Jing brought up the issue of anti-biotics breeding super bugs, evolution marching forward because people don’t know how it works, and scientific research always needing to be cutting edge, I immediately jumped to the rejection of these ideas in the public space; most predominantly in the anti-vaxxer and anti-biotic movements.
Jing and I wanted to illustrate the idea that science and nature tend to perpetually leap frog. If we are to stay ahead we must always be jumping; every day pushing science higher like Sisyphus!
We talked for hours about how we would illustrate these ideas on the sides of the box similar to the Sysiphus machine. We want to simultaneously show humans success over dangerous diseases and what losing ground in those successes means on and around the box. So for each side we will illustrate a concept:
One side we show the discovery of penicillin.
On its opposite the atrocity of plague, yellow fever, and Hepatitis.
We will show on the length side of our box the evolution of humans riddled with death a people fail to realize evolution is a story of bottle-necks.
On the back side we will tell a story of success over the past several generations due to vaccinations antibiotics.
On top of the box will be the machine and the world from the perspective of a virus or bacteria.
We hope you look forward to the development of this project and hang tight while we create it over the next few weeks! (that’s such a short amount of time!)
I don’t remember how I felt when Princess Diana died (BBC). I remember the news riddled with grief I could not feel. I remember days of shock I could not fathom. I remember a car crash as important to me as a local crash on the state line, and I remember a very beautiful woman all over that coverage whose name I could only place by way of scrolling credits. I don’t remember how I felt, or where I was, or why it was so sad.
9/11 though! I remember 9/11 (CNN). I remember where I was when I was pulled off the playground early by obviously distracted teachers. I remember the news broadcast replacing English. And Math. And History. I remember a fast-moving clock and those burning towers. I remember a discussion of what half-staff flags meant and I remember the frequently disappearing children of armed forces officers getting picked up before I myself left the school around noon. I cried heavy tears. A few of my classmates lost a parent.
The impact of 9/11 has defined much of my political and economic opinions. It defined a presidency, a war in the middle east, and an economic crisis. One of my three most impacted art pieces (right) I posted on this blog earlier was a direct critique on the war in Iraq (“Art Appreciation”). Looking at that piece brings that feeling back. That connection I felt to Andrew, the short buzz-cut kid whose mother came to pick him up and who did not return to class for two weeks. A painting brings back those feelings, and the community I was a solid part of in that moment.
My experiences of 9/11 and that of Princess Diana, were very, very different situations. Both were devastating and defined a decade. But my response to each represents a profound difference in what it means to be a part of a community in its context. Most profoundly, it exemplifies Arts’ place in community discourse.
The Cindy Sherman Clown Series I discussed last week in “how to get art” were inspired by the 9/11 attacks (Logan & Baker). They were about taking the raw emotions felt by America and placing them on the faces of a few clowns in a career permitted to show those emotions. Those clowns have cut across time.
That said, I would like to reflectively underscore the purpose of my previous few blogs: Community is required to understand art, but art, provides a most valuable service, to communities and their networks by gluing them together. In art and in writing feelings are royal, but context is queen. It is in the presence of context that the art of Cindy Sherman, becomes vital and important to any community looking desperately to find that visceral connection between and with others.
Work Cited (Read More):
P.S: My heart goes out to the victims of the London attack earlier today. Attacks like these, and the media on the news that it represents brings about these same feelings – they always have, and it is always a tearing feeling to know that emotion is raw and new for the families involved. To learn more an up to date report is provided here (Dewan & Moorhouse).
Ferdinand De Saussure, an old philosopher once stated, there are two requisite parts to understanding how we communicate our ideas to people.
First, there is a signifier such as a picture of, or the word TREE, and then the signified which is the concept that word represents. Both are required. If one looks at a different language, and they cannot parse the signified meaning of a symbol then that symbol fails to signify the meaning it intends to.
This is called Semiotics in modern communication theory which is the study of signs and codes.
What is interesting though is that there are many impressions (that I have found at least) especially in the art world, that pictures work around this duality of symbolic speech because art or visual representations are a globally present phenomenon – a cultural universal.
However, for the sake of understanding “modern art” and more specifically critiques of art and culture, I am going to argue (as plenty before me have) that the signifier and the signified are still a necessary part of a whole in visual rhetoric. to understand art it takes the context and the perception of signified meaning to make a connection to it.
To do this, Let’s use one of the most famous photographers in the world, Cindy Sherman, whose gallery I had a wonderful opportunity to attend in Wellington this past Thursday. And let’s reference the frustrated comments of those who claim not to understand art in general and who tend to take it (ironically) at face value. Then we’ll apply this for a quick lesson on how to properly understand “artistic statements” in art.
We have a big agenda and you likely don’t have much attention span so let’s get started:
The Cindy Sherman Art Gallery:
First, take this photograph in. What is it saying to you? How do the colors in the background inform your opinion of the clown? And of the obvious prosthetic? What do you notice about the eyes? The mouth? What do you think the artist is saying? Do you think it’s just Bullshit? Is the emotion of the clown contrived or natural? Why is/isn’t this art? (I’m super curious so you should tell me these answers in the comments!)
This is what a friend of mine said in reference to the piece:
Did you make the connection to “It?” Did you think it was as simple as a creepy clown? More to the point, is there an argument of merit here about anything in the untitled but (numbered in the 100’s) piece alone? If you had to guess what would it be? (seriously though, put it in the comments)
Well, I saw this piece in person, and I had a journal on hand so now we can share my experience:
“No one piece in the clown series had as much of an impact on me as the untitled clown piece 424 (pictured above). The energetic lines in the background compliment the emotions I see clashing in the character. There is a holding back of a raw emotion on a “real” face under the paint while the paint has forced them to look calm and happy posing for the image. The combination of red overwhelmed by yellow and the clashing expressions of the face and paint show an obvious rejection of that real emotion. The silent fury on the face of someone wanting to take the high ground.”
Context is Queen. Visual Rhetoric requires the Signified:
Did you get what I got? Likely not. And the reason is because you have, a photograph. You do not have the written description of the clown series or the biography of Cindy Sherman on the gallery walls. You are not walking those halls. And you likely don’t have an art degree. Even if you did however, clowns are clowns until you have the context and you’re really just speaking an unknown foreign language. So, here it is – context on the artist.
The clown series of which Unknown 424 (above) is from was done between 2001 and 2004, presented in the years 2003-4. Cindy, tends to embody her characters as a photographer and tends to be VERY ironic about it (because what else is a modern/post-modern artist to do). She said in her description of the pieces that the waking tragedy of the 9/11 attacks inspired these clowns because clowns are the outsiders that can show emotion in such a raw and intense manner as to illustrate everyone’s reactions to 9/11 without repercussions (Caldwell, 2017).
So bearing that in mind, take this next piece of hers in:
This piece represents a childlike emotion, one of being smaller than your own skin. Being unable to impact the world. A simple background and a nude suit too large for a child and bright but tainted colors . The face is clearly adult and unsure, but the painted face puts on a smile either way.
So How Do I Read Art in Context?:
In an ironic twist of fate, Modern Art as Cindy Sherman is considered seeks to push the boundaries of what is and is not Art. It’s a critique on the times. Unfortunately however, without a solid understanding of the institution of modern art – the discourse, written rhetoric, and composite understanding of how to “read” a visual piece – the public is left out of the conversation. So the question, “how do I understand Art” is less about looking at art and far more about getting your head around discourse. This comes in a few tips I will conclude this article with:
Understand the Principles and Elements of Design When I spoke about “untitled 424” above I made a reference to the diagonal background creating energy and I referred to the red and the yellow representing emotional states. These important critiques seem very simple, but out of the blue without a solid understanding of HOW visual stimuli affect our brains. Without a solid understanding of the Principles (how composition, color, emphasis, etc.) and Elements (shape, line, value, etc.) of design work, you are trying to understand art without knowing your alphabet and you cannot construct an idea of “how” it is written. Without an understanding of Color Theory (how color affects your body), or the tendency to prefer things in odd groupings rather than even, you can’t actually read the piece well enough to comprehend.
Know What Kind of Art are you Looking at: Every gallery you walk into will tell you a specific art show is, Baroque, or Traditional, or Cubist, or Modern, or Post-Modern. It’s a very good idea to make use of that $700 pocket guide to all of history to know what you’re walking in to. A quick perusal of the Wikipedia page for Impressionist art work will tell you that the artists had a specific mindset during this era, and a specific mindset was being changed as a result. This can help you get into the general head space of any artist to plug in to that conversation.
Visual Rhetoric Takes Time, and a Little Help: For every painting you look at for 3 minutes, an artist spent a minimum of 80 hours researching it, conceptualizing it, planning it, referencing similar pieces like it, taking photographs for it, painting it, revising it, sometimes remaking it, and finalizing it down to the very last detail.Even pieces that really did take a matter of minutes such as logos and designs involved market research, thinking about the values it would represent to a group of people, how best to represent a company behind it, and more.
So repeat after me, “There is no way to know everything the artist wants you to!”
And that is what artist statements, gallery introductions, pamphlets and brochures, and art curators are for. And you should not ever feel pressured not to look at art if you don’t get it. Art teacher Isaac Kaplin suggests staring at one piece for 20 minutes at least once to get a sense of what it means to understand art from an artist’s point of view.
I may also suggest here attending an opening. The opening at an art gallery tends to be equipped with plenty of people with their own opinions and the artist themselves. So plug into those resources. There is far more there to get the idea across than the picture itself.
Your Experience is What Matters: At the end of it all, just as I was struck by Untitled #424, it is important to know that for an artist’s work to be truly worthwhile, you have to make peace, with your own interpretation of the significance after doing your honest best, to plug into the context.
I hope that this was a helpful primer on what art means, and I hope you enjoy art for what it says to you.
Please note: I dislike writing blogs that are public online for a class assignment that seems largely unrelated to content here, but I must so please know this article is written for class. In future publications, I will place the same warning as if it is paid content.
Art appreciation will be a mainstay topic on this blog for at least the next several months and should things go relatively well it is my hope that it will stay long past the semester’s end. That said however, this post will act as the orienting compass in respect to my opinions and understanding of art. Here I will depict three pieces that for me were profound, enjoyable, and that inspired me, but more importantly, they embody my approach to the process of making art, and how I communicate with the art I see:
1. My Repainting of a painting from an artist in Manitou Springs; Artist Unknown (internet help me!)
I really didn’t have any luck finding the original name of the artist whose painting this is. Unfortunately as an international student in Wellington right now my bookshelf of sketchbooks is a resource I am unable to tap so I can’t look it up in any way. It pains me that I don’t remember, but I think it was Terry Brooks or something and I’m sure that isn’t right because that’s also the name of an author I like.
Regardless this painting by a man in Manitou Springs impacted my life as an artist quite a lot. I remember this was the first time I had spoken to the original artist of a piece that was not in my class. Someone hugely successful selling classical work in a gallery in a tourist town. The piece was fairly large and it was so free of its expression, unhindered by any of the logistical concerns I had in my own art at the time. The layers of red and blue were enough to swallow me whole. I first laid eyes on the piece around the age of 14 and decided that being a fine artist would make my world broad, unique, and worthwhile. This was the first time I realized that art could be used to make powerful emotional appeals across contexts and for a kid who had been taught that skill at rendering an image was all there was to being a successful artist, it was like someone had removed my blinders.
I am not and have never been a patriot or a fan of war or armies, but this painting showed me what it was like for him – a veteran and an artist in a way no conversation and no amount of shared coffees over weeks at a cafe could have. I really hope that I can track down his name some day. If you know it please post it in the comments!!!
2. Lipstick, by Wayne Thiebaud
While a lot of my work in the past was done with little degree of physical accuracy and with little attention to detail in practice, the second I saw this piece by Wayne Thiebaud it became my prerogative that my being “good” at art was based on how interested I was in taking my time, paying attention to what I was doing, and how much I learned to apply theoretical and practical methods of visual design to my pieces (Thiebaud). My being good stopped being a matter of “getting better” and became a matter of “learning to do better”.
Thiebaud’s demand and control over color theory was obvious and profound. Even though his landscapes were terribly out of sync for me his command of color and medium showed to me that he paid attention and that his art was born out of a careful understanding of what he was doing.
The Molting series of comic books by Terrance Zdunich and three other artists hit me in the worst of times in my life. During high school I was a young, impressionable, depressed aspiring artist from a small town with little self-esteem and a lot of gender dysphoria. I was into narrative art, but not sure I would be able to make it in a world of narrative artists. I was scared and worried for my future because I was not progressing as an artist as fast or as well as those peers around me (turns out in hindsight this was stupid and I never should have stopped drawing, but that is another story).
Around the time I began reading the Molting I had a border-line unhealthy interest in Repo! the Genetic Opera and an admiration of Terrance Zdunich that was almost cultish. And when I opened the first comic, Guilty Susie what I saw was someone who couldn’t care less about whether the art was perfect. Terrance was no Jhonen Vasquez. Instead there was a raw untapped story that Terrance put his soul into. His art told a horror story in the same way one might expect the victim of a horror story to tell it – from the gut wrenching, reality punching, seat of his pants. His artwork’s unsteady ink, thick lines, frame-breaking visuals, and full format pages reflected that, but still with a complete full bodied and stylistic professionalism I loved.
Course there is more to this story that should be saved for another blog, but before moving on I still want to publicly thank Terrance for basically saving my life, and spurring me to decide life and transition was worth it. For bringing Repo! to me and for seeing The Molting through, and for showing me what it means to get by in the world with the Devil’s Carnival and it’s long track to a sequel he is and always will be an inspiration in my heart.
Regardless all three of the artistic works I have detailed have had a lasting impression on me and getting back to those impressions has spurred me back into this community. I hope they will continue to be a driving compass for me and I will likely refer to them often when discussing art in the future. Narrative art and storytelling, be it in one image, with the use of theoretical prowess, or raw desire to tell a story, is beautiful.