Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Response to Katie Lewis' Presentation
There were plenty of things I liked about Katie Lewis’ work. I liked the way she made patterns of thread resemble musculature. I liked her use of color to give her work an organic quality. And particularly, I liked the way she created gradation in her work simply by varying the concentration of pins and/or thread throughout the piece.
Nevertheless, her presentation left me feeling a little bereft. She made it clear that nearly every piece was linked to some perception she had within her own body, but she failed to tell us what that perception was. I understand that privacy is important when somebody is talking about their body, but if the artist was aiming for privacy, I can’t see why she would base all of her artwork on a private matter. Similarly I understand that comprehension of the sensation itself might not have been important to the understanding of the art, but if this is true, then why did she emphasize it so much. In the end, I just couldn’t help but feel like somebody had said, “I have a secret for you, but I’m not going to tell you what it is”.
Still, I want to make it clear that I appreciate the fact that Lewis’ artwork does bear some grounding in the real, rational world. Even if that grounding is something that I’m not able to fully understand for some reason, it still produces some pretty cool artwork.
Nevertheless, her presentation left me feeling a little bereft. She made it clear that nearly every piece was linked to some perception she had within her own body, but she failed to tell us what that perception was. I understand that privacy is important when somebody is talking about their body, but if the artist was aiming for privacy, I can’t see why she would base all of her artwork on a private matter. Similarly I understand that comprehension of the sensation itself might not have been important to the understanding of the art, but if this is true, then why did she emphasize it so much. In the end, I just couldn’t help but feel like somebody had said, “I have a secret for you, but I’m not going to tell you what it is”.
Still, I want to make it clear that I appreciate the fact that Lewis’ artwork does bear some grounding in the real, rational world. Even if that grounding is something that I’m not able to fully understand for some reason, it still produces some pretty cool artwork.
Response to Christine Lee's Presentation
It struck me as uncanny that Christine Lee showed us her work with shims the very class period after I finished my own project with the 2x4 slices. I am by no means putting my work on the same level as hers, but I do want to emphasize how much I could relate to the things she said about repetition. Just as I had to individually cut, sand, shellac, and glue each piece, she had to fold and stack every page of the phone books she used, or carefully place each shim in the right place. In other words, the presentation she gave mirrored my own newfound knowledge: repetitive processes are, to most people, mind-numbing and difficult. But with the right state of mind, they can produce a relaxing and meditative effect, and the end results are often quite beautiful and intricate.
Although Christine Lee did mention this explicitly, it was also apparent in the work itself that she is open to the idea of experimenting as she works through the project. In many of her projects, I noticed some degree of evolution from the ground up, and this made the artwork even more interesting.
Finally, I admired the way that she accepted the impermanence of her work. Everything from the fallen exhibit here at Stanford to the exhibit that almost fell when somebody touched it suggest that she doesn’t care so much about the final product, but rather the process taken to get there. I would personally never have enough trust in the laws of physics or in the people viewing the sculptures to make work like hers. Because of this, I admire her as an artist.
Although Christine Lee did mention this explicitly, it was also apparent in the work itself that she is open to the idea of experimenting as she works through the project. In many of her projects, I noticed some degree of evolution from the ground up, and this made the artwork even more interesting.
Finally, I admired the way that she accepted the impermanence of her work. Everything from the fallen exhibit here at Stanford to the exhibit that almost fell when somebody touched it suggest that she doesn’t care so much about the final product, but rather the process taken to get there. I would personally never have enough trust in the laws of physics or in the people viewing the sculptures to make work like hers. Because of this, I admire her as an artist.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I chose last sunday (yesterday) as the period of 24 hours I would spend with my 2x4. Having worked at a hardware store all summer (doing load-outs and stocking the lumber yard), being in close contact with a 2x4 was nothing new to me. Nevertheless, I did feel a little weird bringing it to the dining hall at lunch. I stowed it under the table, ate, and then headed for my dorm room to get some reading done. I spent the rest of my day there (I had upwards of 90 pages to read by the end of the day), but from time to time I would glance up at my 2x4 and try to come up with some sort of inspiration. As I mentioned in class today, a pivotal moment in my experience came while I was trying to clean my room. I had put everything in its correct spot except for several pairs of shoes (which I haven't found a spot for yet), and my 2x4. This was when the idea of a functional sculpture started to play a large part in my thinking. In the end I decided that although a shoe rack would have been a good idea, there is simply no room for it in my dorm room. Plus, shoe racks aren't particularly famous for acting as vessels for artistic creativity.
A few more hours passed, and between periods of reading, I came up with several ideas having to do with chopping the 2x4 into extremely thin segments. However, these concepts weren't directly inspired by any occurrences in the world outside my own brain. My final bit of inspiration came when I was turning the lights out and getting ready to go to bed. An ongoing problem in my room has been that I have no source of mood lighting in my room. Although a 2x4 obviously doesn't emit light, I believe that there are many ways it can be combined with a light source in a way that is both artistic and functional. So, I drew a final sketch of a design involving the use of circular saws and drills. Then I went to bed, thus concluding the conscious portion of my 24 hours with a 2x4.
A few more hours passed, and between periods of reading, I came up with several ideas having to do with chopping the 2x4 into extremely thin segments. However, these concepts weren't directly inspired by any occurrences in the world outside my own brain. My final bit of inspiration came when I was turning the lights out and getting ready to go to bed. An ongoing problem in my room has been that I have no source of mood lighting in my room. Although a 2x4 obviously doesn't emit light, I believe that there are many ways it can be combined with a light source in a way that is both artistic and functional. So, I drew a final sketch of a design involving the use of circular saws and drills. Then I went to bed, thus concluding the conscious portion of my 24 hours with a 2x4.
Response to Mike Meyers' Presentation
As I mentioned in class, the single attribute of Mike Meyers’ work that impressed me most was the mathematical precision visible in most, if not all of his work. Everything from the thread structure to the wooden “bells” consisted of polygons that interlocked and constituted more complex shapes in not two, but three dimesions. As somebody who spent a large amount of time building a small house over the summer, I understand that even to fit strictly rectangular shapes together at right angles can be a colossal challenge when one must measure and cut each side of each shape precisely and then physically bind them to one another in a durable fashion. So for me, seeing sculptures that consisted of non-rectangular quadrilaterals joined at both acute and obtuse angles was quite a trip.
Although I had trouble seeing a deeper meaning in many of the sculptures that Mike Meyers showed us, it was reassuring and somewhat interesting to witness how obsessed he had become with certain, seemingly random compositions and themes (like the wooden bells). The amount of devotion he showed to such particular shapes and forms made me believe that although I couldn’t see it, the work held some sort of intellectual or emotional importance to its creator.
Although I had trouble seeing a deeper meaning in many of the sculptures that Mike Meyers showed us, it was reassuring and somewhat interesting to witness how obsessed he had become with certain, seemingly random compositions and themes (like the wooden bells). The amount of devotion he showed to such particular shapes and forms made me believe that although I couldn’t see it, the work held some sort of intellectual or emotional importance to its creator.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)