I'm already drying out, running out of "interesting" things to write in this blog and I have nine more to go. So, as whims carry you...
I was in the shower last night thinking about my blog and Gorman's. I was thinking about my last line concerning United Colors of Benetton - "Let's go shopping." I started to think that maybe my point was that these images would do more than simply SIGNIFY something other than shopping. Perhaps I was also saying that I wouldn't prefer the presence of these images, and that something more palatable would be preferred.
I really started to question myself. Because, let's face it, I hate advertisements. I'm not looking forward to the day that the Internet explodes over the issue of AdBlock. If you don't use Firefox and you don't use AdBlock, you still see banners and ads on the web. AdBlock users don't and it's wonderful.
Back to the issue: Would my preference then be that advertising is less real? This is what I seem to be saying, that I prefer the insanely pleasant in advertising and that topical issues are somehow bothersome. Darfur? I've got homework to do!
Maybe the solution is a happy neither. Let's neither misrepresent products through over-realism (UCoB), nor through hyper-awesomeism ("Good to the last drop!")
Let's shoot for reality! My Lemonade advertisement would be this: A bunch of young kids are playing soccer in a field as cheesy music starts. We cut to a mother pouring Lemonade from a pitcher. Next to the pitcher is my carton of lemonade. Brand name: Good Lemonade. She calls the kids and they coming running over, forgetting about the soccer. One young boy (clearly the mother's son) reaches for a big tall glass of Good Lemonade.
We then cut to a slow motion segue of Good Lemonade, ice, and lemons dropping across the screen. They explode across a white backdrop. It's a perfect image of refreshment.
Cut back to the mother: She looks at the kids and says, "boy you were thirsty!"
Cut to the kids who are sitting around distracted. One boy didn't really want any lemonade, he's just sucking on a piece of ice. The son of the mother looks up with a half-impressed face.
"Meh. It was kinda good. Maybe."
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
THE HOLGA
I guess this mostly doesn't relate to Peter Peter Pumpkin-Eater. That is: Peter Burda.
The Holga is pretty wonderful as a tool because it allows the photographer to produce with his/her eye and not with the multitudes of tools and tricks of photography. It offers freedom, but it comes with the Holga Look that can't be avoided.
This is a great asset, a wonderful tool, but what must be avoided is the reliance on this Look. Just because the Holga looks cool doesn't mean everything shot with it will mean anything. One shouldn't let the Holga Look define the collection, the work.
Burda mostly doesn't, but he's towing the line.
The Holga is pretty wonderful as a tool because it allows the photographer to produce with his/her eye and not with the multitudes of tools and tricks of photography. It offers freedom, but it comes with the Holga Look that can't be avoided.
This is a great asset, a wonderful tool, but what must be avoided is the reliance on this Look. Just because the Holga looks cool doesn't mean everything shot with it will mean anything. One shouldn't let the Holga Look define the collection, the work.
Burda mostly doesn't, but he's towing the line.
So, in class today I started going on about Cast Away. Probably because I'd seen it really recently and it's still fresh in my mind. What concerned me was the problem of recognition.
This is different from the problem of NOT recognizing. Entirely different. That's something we encounter when looking for familiarity, for guidance, for help or light. What I'm talking about is the impossibility of verisimilitude in the realm of recognition.
For instance: no matter what role the actor who played Napolean Dynamite steps into next he will still be Napolean Dynamite. I don't have the mental capacity to re-ambiguate that guy, not after that summer where everyone talked about tater tots incessantly. Myself included.
The problem that this poses is certainly burdensome for the actor. Unless, of course, you're Harrison Ford. In which case this is no burden at all but rather informs your decision as an actor. There's no need to develop the Character Indiana Jones, because we're already familiar with Han Solo. Wipe your hands of it. You're done.
The more serious problem relates to the viewer, the human. If you're alive and and attempting to experience things natively, this recognition is truly problematic. It means for us that we must renaturalize ourselves before we can truly experience something.
This is different from the problem of NOT recognizing. Entirely different. That's something we encounter when looking for familiarity, for guidance, for help or light. What I'm talking about is the impossibility of verisimilitude in the realm of recognition.
For instance: no matter what role the actor who played Napolean Dynamite steps into next he will still be Napolean Dynamite. I don't have the mental capacity to re-ambiguate that guy, not after that summer where everyone talked about tater tots incessantly. Myself included.
The problem that this poses is certainly burdensome for the actor. Unless, of course, you're Harrison Ford. In which case this is no burden at all but rather informs your decision as an actor. There's no need to develop the Character Indiana Jones, because we're already familiar with Han Solo. Wipe your hands of it. You're done.
The more serious problem relates to the viewer, the human. If you're alive and and attempting to experience things natively, this recognition is truly problematic. It means for us that we must renaturalize ourselves before we can truly experience something.
A City That Care Forgot
It's far too late to believe that photography can tell the truth. We already know that and contemporary theory and photography has shown us repeatedly why the full truth cannot be told in a photograph. From multiple angles to manipulation. From high-minded theory to simple common sense.
And yet there is the possibility of telling the partial truth. Robert Polidori seems to know this. This articles:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/22/arts/design/22floo.html?ex=1316577600&en=2bcc0990ebbf73b7&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss
Seems to know this as well. Repeatedly the article address Polidori's use of subtle emphasis and dry horizontality. By using a large format camera, by dragging it through the wastes, we know that Polidori's shots will be still and somewhat mellow. Anyone who has used a large format camera is aware of this. Because, let's face, that shit takes forever to set up.
So, sure, we have that to deal with the necessary changes that simply using a certain camera will impose. If he'd used a Holga, we'd expect saturated, vignetted, dark circus-like images of destruction. But perhaps by choosing this medium, Polidori is choosing to expose and not to distort a certain truth.
Or, at least a certain portion of the truth. Or, if nothing else, a certain portion of the truth of an event. Maybe.
And yet there is the possibility of telling the partial truth. Robert Polidori seems to know this. This articles:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/22/arts/design/22floo.html?ex=1316577600&en=2bcc0990ebbf73b7&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss
Seems to know this as well. Repeatedly the article address Polidori's use of subtle emphasis and dry horizontality. By using a large format camera, by dragging it through the wastes, we know that Polidori's shots will be still and somewhat mellow. Anyone who has used a large format camera is aware of this. Because, let's face, that shit takes forever to set up.
So, sure, we have that to deal with the necessary changes that simply using a certain camera will impose. If he'd used a Holga, we'd expect saturated, vignetted, dark circus-like images of destruction. But perhaps by choosing this medium, Polidori is choosing to expose and not to distort a certain truth.
Or, at least a certain portion of the truth. Or, if nothing else, a certain portion of the truth of an event. Maybe.
@ Nikki Gorman
Hell yes.
Good to see you feel the same way I do on this one. I'm equally unimpressed by the Benetton ads, but I'm gonna take a slightly different approach at bemoaning them. Because, let's face it, you're right. There's absolutely no effort here to create a positive response to these issues. This is as vapid as the Meiser work, but infinitely more disgusting.
The problem that I'd rather focus on is the issue of signage and labeling. We can start with the less or seemingly non-offensive images and move on to the truly awful ones. For instance: we're shown an image of a black dude holding sweaters to either side of his head. The message here could be, "we're accepting of all colors!" But it could just as easily be, "hey, I'm a colored guy!" The last time someone referred to a black guy as "colored" in a non-offensive way was years and years ago. And then the kicker, the sign: United Colors of Benetton. Wait, huh? What? So these are the United Colors? Aged racism?
Moving on then: let's presume that the great old United Colors of Benetton sign can be applied to any image that it's stuck too. And why wouldn't we presume this? It's generally true that a sign, once applied, labels the thing that it is applied to. When I go to the Store, I walk in under the sign that says store.
So, what are we walking into when we approach the sign: United Colors of Benneton?
AIDS?
The Death Penalty?
Greeeeaaaat. Let's go shopping.
Good to see you feel the same way I do on this one. I'm equally unimpressed by the Benetton ads, but I'm gonna take a slightly different approach at bemoaning them. Because, let's face it, you're right. There's absolutely no effort here to create a positive response to these issues. This is as vapid as the Meiser work, but infinitely more disgusting.
The problem that I'd rather focus on is the issue of signage and labeling. We can start with the less or seemingly non-offensive images and move on to the truly awful ones. For instance: we're shown an image of a black dude holding sweaters to either side of his head. The message here could be, "we're accepting of all colors!" But it could just as easily be, "hey, I'm a colored guy!" The last time someone referred to a black guy as "colored" in a non-offensive way was years and years ago. And then the kicker, the sign: United Colors of Benetton. Wait, huh? What? So these are the United Colors? Aged racism?
Moving on then: let's presume that the great old United Colors of Benetton sign can be applied to any image that it's stuck too. And why wouldn't we presume this? It's generally true that a sign, once applied, labels the thing that it is applied to. When I go to the Store, I walk in under the sign that says store.
So, what are we walking into when we approach the sign: United Colors of Benneton?
AIDS?
The Death Penalty?
Greeeeaaaat. Let's go shopping.
More on Theory and Depth
My goddamn browser crashed after writing this entire post. I'll start again. Quality not guaranteed.
Is anyone aware that Travis Pastrana did a double backflip on a dirtbike? He did. I learned how to ride dirtbikes with "Mad" Mike Jones. I was a kid at the time, but he was a friend of a friend and a nice guy. We sat around after a day of riding and discussed the possible future of motocross. Everyone agreed that a backflip would be impossible. Not enough torque. Jones doesn't do them anymore, he almost died. Pastrana has done a DOUBLE.
In 1960, two men reached the bottom of the Mariana Trench in a small vessel. That's right. Humans have been to the bottom of the ocean. The Trench is as deep as Mt. Everest is high, and we've been there.
Both of these things seemed stupid and impossible before they were done. They were laughed at. Theory has reached milestones of accomplishment as well, except that here we're talking about the flux of ideas and not the physical accomplishments of possible morons who could have died.
My favorite accomplishment of Theory, a gem for sure, is Derrida's deconstruction of the word 'is.' If this doesn't seem slippery enough a word for you, just remember "Existential Willie's" defense of his actions during his famous impeachment trial: http://www.slate.com/id/1000162/
Derrida chooses to italicize every use of the word 'is.' Because we can never be sure that anything is anything else. Every direct comparison is a simile. Just as every direct comparison cannot be a simile.
See?
Is anyone aware that Travis Pastrana did a double backflip on a dirtbike? He did. I learned how to ride dirtbikes with "Mad" Mike Jones. I was a kid at the time, but he was a friend of a friend and a nice guy. We sat around after a day of riding and discussed the possible future of motocross. Everyone agreed that a backflip would be impossible. Not enough torque. Jones doesn't do them anymore, he almost died. Pastrana has done a DOUBLE.
In 1960, two men reached the bottom of the Mariana Trench in a small vessel. That's right. Humans have been to the bottom of the ocean. The Trench is as deep as Mt. Everest is high, and we've been there.
Both of these things seemed stupid and impossible before they were done. They were laughed at. Theory has reached milestones of accomplishment as well, except that here we're talking about the flux of ideas and not the physical accomplishments of possible morons who could have died.
My favorite accomplishment of Theory, a gem for sure, is Derrida's deconstruction of the word 'is.' If this doesn't seem slippery enough a word for you, just remember "Existential Willie's" defense of his actions during his famous impeachment trial: http://www.slate.com/id/1000162/
Derrida chooses to italicize every use of the word 'is.' Because we can never be sure that anything is anything else. Every direct comparison is a simile. Just as every direct comparison cannot be a simile.
See?
Problems with criticism of artform with artform.
Steven Meisel: We already began to explore some of the issues with his 'work.' It may be necessary to reiterate some of these:
First and foremost we have the problem of context and contextualizing. When Meisel's work is hung in a gallery, it appears to state the problem with surgery and surface. When the same work is shown in Vogue magazine, it appears vapidly shocking. That is to say, it simply utilizes the imagery of brutalized beauty to sell. It's hard to believe that in this context there is any overt message. That is not to say that magazine cannot speak like galleries. If, for instance, Meisel's spread were to be found in Adbusters, the message would be thoroughly different.
-> http://adbusters.org/home/
They send a quite different message than Vogue. Perhaps the inclusion of the price of the models' worn items is enough to differ the message. Perhaps this alone can construe an entirely different view.
Before we go on, we must first presume that Meisel's 'message' is essentially, at its core, empty. That is to say that there is no inherent voice to it. When Meisel photographed his models, it was in an entirely controlled environment. This means that (presupposing that photography is not always inherently a lie), there is the possibility for meaning in 'real' circumstances. Were Meisel to have photographed models as they actually underwent surgery, he might have captured some inherent meaning. Of course we mean here metaphor, not truth.
So, assuming that this is not the case, Meisel's work is essentially, metaphorically, vapid. We can now allow it to take on meaning according only to context. Lucky break for the photographer not to have a message. It allows us to analyze the work as a cultural anomaly.
I'm inclined to think that it waters down the message and makes it only for the viewer, and less for the think. Perhaps a more acute criticism can be found in Gilliam's Brazil.
Because I couldn't show it in class, here's a wonderful clip from the film:
First and foremost we have the problem of context and contextualizing. When Meisel's work is hung in a gallery, it appears to state the problem with surgery and surface. When the same work is shown in Vogue magazine, it appears vapidly shocking. That is to say, it simply utilizes the imagery of brutalized beauty to sell. It's hard to believe that in this context there is any overt message. That is not to say that magazine cannot speak like galleries. If, for instance, Meisel's spread were to be found in Adbusters, the message would be thoroughly different.
-> http://adbusters.org/home/
They send a quite different message than Vogue. Perhaps the inclusion of the price of the models' worn items is enough to differ the message. Perhaps this alone can construe an entirely different view.
Before we go on, we must first presume that Meisel's 'message' is essentially, at its core, empty. That is to say that there is no inherent voice to it. When Meisel photographed his models, it was in an entirely controlled environment. This means that (presupposing that photography is not always inherently a lie), there is the possibility for meaning in 'real' circumstances. Were Meisel to have photographed models as they actually underwent surgery, he might have captured some inherent meaning. Of course we mean here metaphor, not truth.
So, assuming that this is not the case, Meisel's work is essentially, metaphorically, vapid. We can now allow it to take on meaning according only to context. Lucky break for the photographer not to have a message. It allows us to analyze the work as a cultural anomaly.
I'm inclined to think that it waters down the message and makes it only for the viewer, and less for the think. Perhaps a more acute criticism can be found in Gilliam's Brazil.
Because I couldn't show it in class, here's a wonderful clip from the film:
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