Class,
Pardon my language. I don't usually title things with such vulgar beginnings. However, in this case, I might even reiterate the phrase. Holy fucking shit--INLAND EMPIRE.
If you're not aware, this is the new David Lynch picture which is currently playing at the Amherst Theatre across from south campus. If you love or hate David Lynch, you should probably see this film. Here are three reasons:
1) The entire three hour opus was shot on digital video with only one cheap consumer camera. And it looks absolutely gorgeous. I thought that during the film I was watching something that was shot half on 35mm (because of the film grain from the projector). That's how good it was, some of the shots are that clear. I hate digital, but I love that this film was shot on it. It was incredible and makes me hopeful for the medium.
2) I have laughed and cried at the same film before. However, I have never been absolutely terrified and laughed at the same film before. I'm not even talking a chiller with comic relief: This film was like watching my worst nightmare having a nightmare and yet I laughed harder than I maybe ever have in a movie theatre.
3) The movie completely disregards plot, scene, action, setting, pacing, dialogue. Most of it was written the day of the shoot. And yet you'll be deciphering it for days afterward.
4) Bonus: there's a lumberjack sawing wood during a dance number.
Love,
Christopher
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
On Marcel 2
A second consideration to be made in regards to Marcel is the notion of "carving out a space" or "squatting." It seems that, unashamedly, these notions are derived mostly from fear of being paved over. And why shouldn't we fear such a fate? Big business and the movie industry have huge power and money to campaign and cause change. It makes sense, then, that we'd need to fight them for our own niche as artists.
However, as it stands now, IP is largely free. I mean this in the sense of openness and not monetary freedom. All you need to do now is buy a server somewhere and you can host and share whatever you like. I have my own server space on a machine in Chicago, so does my friend Ian (though his is elsewhere and oft used for more diabolical purposes.)
There's noone now who can leach our bandwidth or keep us from sharing whatever we wish. Of course we aren't talking about the Very High Bandwidth that Marcel can promote - but that has, seemingly, more to do with funding than resources. With enough money, Ian and I could synchronize music over the 'net too.
Freedom, right?
However, as it stands now, IP is largely free. I mean this in the sense of openness and not monetary freedom. All you need to do now is buy a server somewhere and you can host and share whatever you like. I have my own server space on a machine in Chicago, so does my friend Ian (though his is elsewhere and oft used for more diabolical purposes.)
There's noone now who can leach our bandwidth or keep us from sharing whatever we wish. Of course we aren't talking about the Very High Bandwidth that Marcel can promote - but that has, seemingly, more to do with funding than resources. With enough money, Ian and I could synchronize music over the 'net too.
Freedom, right?
On Marcel
What struck me initially about the presentation on Marcel was that maybe the idea that Art needed to be at a forefront of new technology and guide its development was somehow backwards.
It seems that art is so necessarily reactionary, that it naturally comes after technological innovation. In so doing, it keeps the motion of humankind in check--lets us know when things have gone too far awry.
But maybe this reactionary nature of art always comes too late. It's certainly possible that the creation of new technology to feed the ends of artistic purpose alone could provide unique answers. It reminds me of the guy who suspends himself from steel hooks and is attempting to get an extra ear to grow on his arm. I can't remember his name, but he's certainly *unique*.
The technology that he's working with is new, and his projects are helping to develop new means of answering questions - questions that were never, specifically, asked.
It seems that art is so necessarily reactionary, that it naturally comes after technological innovation. In so doing, it keeps the motion of humankind in check--lets us know when things have gone too far awry.
But maybe this reactionary nature of art always comes too late. It's certainly possible that the creation of new technology to feed the ends of artistic purpose alone could provide unique answers. It reminds me of the guy who suspends himself from steel hooks and is attempting to get an extra ear to grow on his arm. I can't remember his name, but he's certainly *unique*.
The technology that he's working with is new, and his projects are helping to develop new means of answering questions - questions that were never, specifically, asked.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Difference in comparison.
Alright, we all know the Weston Pepper resembles a nude, so what was my point?
The first thing I pulled from comparing it to an actual nude was that it actually started to look like a pepper again. I needed to remember how the Pepper resembled a nude before that view of it would come back to me. It was as if it was a pepper again once an association was actually made with a naked human form.
So, let's see of the opposite is true:
Click the pictures to seem them uncut.
Does the nude exude nudeness or does the pepper exude pepperness? This isn't an altogether irrelevant discussion. We're dealing with a mimicry in its natural and mimicking context. It may be helpful to know the answer to this before we move on.
The next question is: Is the pepper remarkable or unremarkable?
The first thing I pulled from comparing it to an actual nude was that it actually started to look like a pepper again. I needed to remember how the Pepper resembled a nude before that view of it would come back to me. It was as if it was a pepper again once an association was actually made with a naked human form.
So, let's see of the opposite is true:
Click the pictures to seem them uncut.
Does the nude exude nudeness or does the pepper exude pepperness? This isn't an altogether irrelevant discussion. We're dealing with a mimicry in its natural and mimicking context. It may be helpful to know the answer to this before we move on.
The next question is: Is the pepper remarkable or unremarkable?
A Comparison
Images speak louder than words. So, all this blog will consist of is a comparison. Bite.
I know, it's that Goddamned Weston Pepper again.
I know, it's that Goddamned Weston Pepper again.
List of Photographers
Ah, Wikipedia. How sensitive you make us to our cultural failings. Everyone should probably check out the following:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_photographers
That's right. A list of photographers. Here's something to think about. It's easy enough to explain away like this:
It's a list of NOTABLE photographers, see? If it were a list of every photographer, then nearly ever human would be on it. Certainly everyone with a camera phone or disposable camera at the beach. And then, depending upon our definition, it would include anyone who ever set a deck chair in the sun and bleached lines into the wood of their house. So it's not official, but it's an attempt to list notable photographers for reference.
But where it gets interesting is the thought of notoriety as it compares to accomplishment or even skill. Many famous photographers are famous simply because they took so many pictures and worked so hard to get them seen. Some of those same people are terrible photographers.
A good photographic exercise: drive out to some place real far that looks beautiful. Bring a 35mm camera and take only ONE picture. Don't bracket, don't shoot two, don't try one from different angles. Make one exposure.
Step two: Add yourself to this Wikipedia list of photographers.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_photographers
That's right. A list of photographers. Here's something to think about. It's easy enough to explain away like this:
It's a list of NOTABLE photographers, see? If it were a list of every photographer, then nearly ever human would be on it. Certainly everyone with a camera phone or disposable camera at the beach. And then, depending upon our definition, it would include anyone who ever set a deck chair in the sun and bleached lines into the wood of their house. So it's not official, but it's an attempt to list notable photographers for reference.
But where it gets interesting is the thought of notoriety as it compares to accomplishment or even skill. Many famous photographers are famous simply because they took so many pictures and worked so hard to get them seen. Some of those same people are terrible photographers.
A good photographic exercise: drive out to some place real far that looks beautiful. Bring a 35mm camera and take only ONE picture. Don't bracket, don't shoot two, don't try one from different angles. Make one exposure.
Step two: Add yourself to this Wikipedia list of photographers.
Visual Culture
We generally consider visual culture to be the major culture requiring our inquiry, vehemence, and defense. It's the overwhelming result of advertising, media, and corporation. So, what's visual culture matter to the blind?
My step mother works with a blind woman. You could call it volunteering, but she's come to be very good friends with this woman and their interaction is certainly not strictly on the level of the uninterested volunteer.
One morning while driving, Ms. Winslow commented that she wanted to write a poem and had 9 things to write a poem about. She listed them slowly: the wind on her face, the rush of water in a stream. However, what she didn't realize was that she was the poem. There. The blind woman with 9 things already tucked away to write about.
My step mother works with a blind woman. You could call it volunteering, but she's come to be very good friends with this woman and their interaction is certainly not strictly on the level of the uninterested volunteer.
One morning while driving, Ms. Winslow commented that she wanted to write a poem and had 9 things to write a poem about. She listed them slowly: the wind on her face, the rush of water in a stream. However, what she didn't realize was that she was the poem. There. The blind woman with 9 things already tucked away to write about.
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