Our guest speaker this week was Brian Gillis, who spoke mainly of themes of mass production, editions, and how the art community debates whether or not a copy is mass produced/at what point is an edition defined as simply mass produced. I have to mention, Gillis’ lecture had to be my favorite and most interesting of the Art 101 Artist Lecture Series, what with his introducing me to the works of Vito Acconci, Alisha Shvarts, and Charles Ray, among others. They’re so sick, extreme, and controversial that it is fascinating; I must do more research on all of them!
The example of editions used by Gillis that really encompasses my idea of mass production rather than actual editions is Jeff Koons’ Puppy, edition of 1,000 in porcelain. While I see how each edition can be valued as an individual work of art since, theoretically, each piece would be owned and made personally precious to 1,000 unique people, the fact of the matter is that every single one is aesthetically an exact copy of the next. I do not agree in all cases with Duchamp’s opinion that “one was unique, two was a pair, and three is many (mass-produced).” As long as each edition has some element of change from every other, I am okay with labeling each piece as an edition that is part of a whole series. Koons didn’t have to call his 1,000 porcelain puppies ‘mass produced cheapo moneymaking ploy’, but calling each individual piece an ‘edition’ almost seems dishonest to me, since edition implies (or ought to imply) some form or uniqueness. If it is an exact copy, it should be called simply that: a copy.
I do not think the Eva and Franco second-life rendition of Vito Acconoci’s Seedbed would fall under the category of a copy. It is not a copy because it is far from an exact rendition of Acconoci’s performance, and never can be due to the dimensional and situational barriers that surround the performances. It also cannot be considered an edition from Acconoci’s series, since it is not form his own body of work and I believe a series should be a label exclusively used to describe works by a single artists or group of artists working in collaboration with one another. Eva and Franco’s performance is best labeled as homage to Acconci’s performance and a unique enough one to be also considered an independent work, much of this uniqueness due to the aspect of it being performed in another ‘world’.
Eva and Franco are not the only artists we examined this week that take pleasure in creating art that brings the viewer to another world. Gabriel Orozco is a big fan of creating game-based (such as chess) sculptures because they allow the viewer to immerse themselves in the exclusive world of the game to leave their normal, everyday awareness behind. I believe Orozco’s want for immersion in the game world in his art stems from his enthusiasm for stimulating the viewer’s imagination to alter their view on conventional notions of reality. He does this by using normal, everyday items such as a four-way table tennis board and putting a twist on it such as adding a pond in the middle.
The disfigurines and 21st Century Bunny of Justinn Novak’s sculpture series seem to also embody this idea of taking a normal image and altering it slightly in order to create disturbance in the viewer’s perception in order to provoke new thought. I am a big fan of self-motivation and reaching the right conclusion using one’s own judgment rather than doing the right thing through being told ‘this is the way things should be’, and these are valuable qualities I would like to instill in my children if I ever adopt, or god forbid, pop one out myself. How does this relate to the techniques utilized by Orozco and Novak? I believe their technique is one of the most effective ways to provoke new thought in the viewer, rather than telling the viewer what to think (for example, painting Sarah Palin’s head with lipstick on a bulldog’s body). I do sometimes appreciate taking the straight-forward approach to creating art with a message behind it, but the technique of subtly presenting an idea in a way that provokes thought is absolutely invaluable as a way to expose people to new possibilities. This is a place that cannot be reached by simple opinion-spewing, because sometimes people are only going to see that it does not agree with their previous calculations; I appreciate that artists like Orozco and Novak seize the opportunity to use art in order to subtly provoke the viewer to use their own judgment to discover completely new ways of looking at old ideas.
ART 101 (Winter 2011)
Friday, March 11, 2011
Flex Credit Entry #1: Andrea Zittel
I wasn’t sure what to expect from the UO visiting artist lecture by Andrea Zittel since I had never heard of her before. However, I was pleasantly surprised and entertained by her engaging demeanor and aesthetically pleasing furniture installations. Zittel talked about many of her art pieces which revolved around themes of autonomy from society, experiments in industrialization, experience in order to embody an idea through art, and personalization.
Out of all of Zittel’s works she introduced at the lecture, the piece I would most want to own would be one of her A-Z Pit Beds. She created this out of a curiosity of what it would be like to personalize a bed by having it below ground level rather than the typical bed which protrudes above the ground. I cannot help but keep on thinking of how much dirt and dust the bed would attract, but I absolutely love the concept of personalizing furniture in order to unify the layout keeping in mind the individual needs and desires. Yet, it provokes thought on questioning the concept of personalization; if someone else comes up with the idea, and I adopt the exact concept, can it really be called personalization? I suppose this is where we can examine the differences between personalization and originality.
One may consider it to be unoriginal to have a copy of Picasso’s starry night hanging in their living room, since countless other home owners likely hang that same exact picture on their walls. However, we can say the same thing for people who have flood lamps, white leather couches, and dark wood coffee tables in their living rooms. Would you say that anyone who contains one of these elements is being ‘unoriginal’? Maybe so, but these furniture items are popular for the sole reason of them being useful to the person that owns the living room. This catering to the individual’s needs makes any furniture piece in the room a result of personalization. While some people may believe that going against the grain and filling their houses with odd furniture pieces is the definition of personalization (and sometimes it is), what really makes anything, especially art, personalized is the fact that it is created and arranged in a way that reflects the creator’s needs and expression. As with most people, this expression and needs will vary from person to person even if just slightly in the form of different arrangements of the same household items, in the same way that two artists may utilize the same type of circles and squares in their paintings but arranging them differently to make those paintings uniquely their own.
Although only some portion in the beginning of Zittel’s lecture was committed to talking about her manmade island, it seems to be one of her works that she is most famous for creating. She has created several ‘island’ pieces, but the one spotlighted during the lecture was her Pocket Property funded by the Indianapolis Museum of Art. This structure was a personal island specifically designed to house only a few people. She created this piece then lived on it with some of her friends to make a documentary on what life was like on the island. What inspired Zittel to create this piece was her idea of islands representing autonomy and independence, mitigating and disempowering the influence and control of the larger social system beyond the occupants of the island.
I was raised in Hawaii, which is what made this concept of islands being autonomous and independent particularly interesting to me. The concept also reminds me of an idea that got me thinking during high school when my religion teacher emphasized to us that there is no such thing as independence; no matter how much we try, we will all be subject to interdependence because we are all relying on the resources of others. It is well-known in Hawaii that we desperately rely on the mainland (that’s what we call the rest of the U.S.) for fuel, which is what makes gas prices sky-high in Hawaii. We also rely on the mainland for all sorts of shipments such as particular foods, furniture, and especially tourism to keep our economy afloat. Clearly, we are very interdependent and would lose the necessities we enjoy now if we were to cut ourselves off from the mainland. But how much of it is really necessary? Zittel’s experiment with the island seems to me an example of Hawaii pre-colonization from ‘foreigners’. I see Pocket Property as proof that autonomous life is possible without the larger social system of the United States as a whole controlling the island (if Pocket Property grew its own food).
Yet, I think a big issue is not being addressed here: it doesn’t matter how independent a community or person is, because no matter how little interdependency there is, over time, influence through direct or indirect interaction is unavoidable. Personally, a fantasy I always retreat to when I can’t stop thinking of all the crap in the world is this idea of a completely secluded island in which there is no war, no violence, no prejudices and everyone is intelligent and kind. Even if this dream were achieved on some island, it doesn’t change the fact that others will affect our community. What if all the other countries of the world are in a war and one leader decides they want to nuclear bomb the rest of the world? What if a peaceful, independent island makes us an easy target for takeover (I mean, hey, it’s happened before)? On the global scale, beyond the individual, beyond Pocket Property and beyond Hawaii, there are so many other communities filled with people who have or will have a vested interest in what we do in our own little corner of the world; for our own sake, we cannot forget this. By this perspective, no matter what, we are interdependent in the sense that our way of life depends on the choices of others.
As admirable as it may seem, instead of trying to seclude ourselves to the autonomous life, we should opt to be kept in the loop and interact in order to have an influence in the decisions the larger community makes. But not to fear: personalization and individuality does not need to be burdened by the existence of our interdependency. Through expression, including artistic expression as practiced by Andrea Zittel, it is possible to maintain our unique personalities despite our dependence on others.
Out of all of Zittel’s works she introduced at the lecture, the piece I would most want to own would be one of her A-Z Pit Beds. She created this out of a curiosity of what it would be like to personalize a bed by having it below ground level rather than the typical bed which protrudes above the ground. I cannot help but keep on thinking of how much dirt and dust the bed would attract, but I absolutely love the concept of personalizing furniture in order to unify the layout keeping in mind the individual needs and desires. Yet, it provokes thought on questioning the concept of personalization; if someone else comes up with the idea, and I adopt the exact concept, can it really be called personalization? I suppose this is where we can examine the differences between personalization and originality.
One may consider it to be unoriginal to have a copy of Picasso’s starry night hanging in their living room, since countless other home owners likely hang that same exact picture on their walls. However, we can say the same thing for people who have flood lamps, white leather couches, and dark wood coffee tables in their living rooms. Would you say that anyone who contains one of these elements is being ‘unoriginal’? Maybe so, but these furniture items are popular for the sole reason of them being useful to the person that owns the living room. This catering to the individual’s needs makes any furniture piece in the room a result of personalization. While some people may believe that going against the grain and filling their houses with odd furniture pieces is the definition of personalization (and sometimes it is), what really makes anything, especially art, personalized is the fact that it is created and arranged in a way that reflects the creator’s needs and expression. As with most people, this expression and needs will vary from person to person even if just slightly in the form of different arrangements of the same household items, in the same way that two artists may utilize the same type of circles and squares in their paintings but arranging them differently to make those paintings uniquely their own.
Although only some portion in the beginning of Zittel’s lecture was committed to talking about her manmade island, it seems to be one of her works that she is most famous for creating. She has created several ‘island’ pieces, but the one spotlighted during the lecture was her Pocket Property funded by the Indianapolis Museum of Art. This structure was a personal island specifically designed to house only a few people. She created this piece then lived on it with some of her friends to make a documentary on what life was like on the island. What inspired Zittel to create this piece was her idea of islands representing autonomy and independence, mitigating and disempowering the influence and control of the larger social system beyond the occupants of the island.
I was raised in Hawaii, which is what made this concept of islands being autonomous and independent particularly interesting to me. The concept also reminds me of an idea that got me thinking during high school when my religion teacher emphasized to us that there is no such thing as independence; no matter how much we try, we will all be subject to interdependence because we are all relying on the resources of others. It is well-known in Hawaii that we desperately rely on the mainland (that’s what we call the rest of the U.S.) for fuel, which is what makes gas prices sky-high in Hawaii. We also rely on the mainland for all sorts of shipments such as particular foods, furniture, and especially tourism to keep our economy afloat. Clearly, we are very interdependent and would lose the necessities we enjoy now if we were to cut ourselves off from the mainland. But how much of it is really necessary? Zittel’s experiment with the island seems to me an example of Hawaii pre-colonization from ‘foreigners’. I see Pocket Property as proof that autonomous life is possible without the larger social system of the United States as a whole controlling the island (if Pocket Property grew its own food).
Yet, I think a big issue is not being addressed here: it doesn’t matter how independent a community or person is, because no matter how little interdependency there is, over time, influence through direct or indirect interaction is unavoidable. Personally, a fantasy I always retreat to when I can’t stop thinking of all the crap in the world is this idea of a completely secluded island in which there is no war, no violence, no prejudices and everyone is intelligent and kind. Even if this dream were achieved on some island, it doesn’t change the fact that others will affect our community. What if all the other countries of the world are in a war and one leader decides they want to nuclear bomb the rest of the world? What if a peaceful, independent island makes us an easy target for takeover (I mean, hey, it’s happened before)? On the global scale, beyond the individual, beyond Pocket Property and beyond Hawaii, there are so many other communities filled with people who have or will have a vested interest in what we do in our own little corner of the world; for our own sake, we cannot forget this. By this perspective, no matter what, we are interdependent in the sense that our way of life depends on the choices of others.
As admirable as it may seem, instead of trying to seclude ourselves to the autonomous life, we should opt to be kept in the loop and interact in order to have an influence in the decisions the larger community makes. But not to fear: personalization and individuality does not need to be burdened by the existence of our interdependency. Through expression, including artistic expression as practiced by Andrea Zittel, it is possible to maintain our unique personalities despite our dependence on others.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Entry 8
Our guest lecturer this week was Amanda Wojick, who mainly discussed the works of many influential female sculptors of the 20th century, including successful sculptor Louise Bourgeois. The focus of our class discussion was abstraction versus representation, the effect of space on a work (sculptures), and the comparison between Richard Serra and Louise Bourgeois’ attitudes and approaches in sculpting.
On our class field trip, we visited several sculptures on the University of Oregon campus, including Wind Fence by Ned Kahn behind the Lillis Business Complex and Flying Ducks by Tom Hardy outside of Lawrence Hall. An objective was to compare the experience of simply viewing pictures of the sculptures on a computer, versus walking around and seeing the sculptures in person. After this field trip, I realized that the difference between the two dimensions of viewing is space. Space allows interaction in the form of walking (sometimes touching) to allow the experience of so many new aspects that are not obtainable through an image, including aspects such as point of view, weather, environment/context, and shadows. This in-person experience of space gives new life to the sculpture and presents to the viewer so many more things to appreciate (or critique) about the sculpture.
Richard Serra, minimalist sculptor, argues that there is actually no such thing as just looking; in fact, the viewer is aggressively hunting for meaning and certain qualities in an art piece. Not only this, but the art piece looks back at the viewer. I agree that no matter what, the viewer is hunting for meaning in a painting, even if it is just subconsciously. A psychology teacher once told me that it is impossible for any normally functioning person to think of absolutely nothing at any waking time, which makes me believe that as long as someone is visually processing information, they are also making connections from the art to emotions and past experiences. Especially in the case where the art piece is presented in a setting clearly meant to imply the work is exactly that (an art piece), such as in a gallery, the viewer already feels as if they should be looking for meaning.
Richard Serra’s opinion on the viewer’s aggressive hunt for meaning and the concept of the object looking back at the viewer is reflective of his tendency to exude raw aggression and physicality in his art, as compared to deep psychological reflection. He does this through utilizing giant, cold slabs of metal to create his minimalist sculptures. Something in his art technique that I can relate to and really appreciate is the way he very precisely places the slabs of metal while thinking of how it will affect the viewer’s perception. But to be completely honest, it is very hard for me to appreciate his art aesthetically because no matter how well thought-out his placement, material choice, et cetera are (which are fun to discuss), in the end… they are just a few giant slabs of metal. To be fair, I haven’t seen Serra’s sculptures in person to experience the space and context surrounding the sculptures, so who knows; maybe I’d be surprisingly impressed. Until then, I have to say I much prefer Louise Bourgeois’ sculptures, which offer more elements and shapes to admire (I just realized how incredibly awkward my photo placement under this sentence is).
A part of what makes Louise Bourgeois’ art more dynamic, delicate and detailed is the fact that she created the pieces based on her feelings based on her psychological childhood trauma (feelings of loneliness and betrayal) of finding out her governess was her father’s mistress. I wonder if her attention to her own feelings is also what makes her sensitive to the idea of making art pieces that work with its surroundings’ occupants. Bourgeois on her art piece A Touch of Jane Addams which was placed next to an office building: “Instead of trying to rival the building, I have made a structure which is so discreet and so sensitive that my structure doesn’t have a bone of contention with the building.” Compare this to Serra’s disregard to the art piece’s surrounding occupants when his sculpture Tiled Arc, placed in front of an office building, got many complaints from the building occupants that it was obstructing view and he retorted that art is not for the public.
Louise Bourgeois and Richard Serra clearly have different styles, approaches, and opinions on art, which brings to mind the concept of each being defined by opposites. Would the extreme of Serra’s cold minimalism even exist without the extreme of Bourgeois’ emotion-filled sculptures? I believe so. While the existence of an idea’s extreme opposite may magnify the idea, it still exists as exactly what it is. In a less vague example: if most art were of the same style as minimalism, its label may not be called ‘minimalism’ because it would be the norm, not an extreme such as ‘minimal’; the content of the art still remains the same. The aspect of art that changes is how we perceive it, not the content itself.
A recurring theme we’ve touched upon seems to be how our perception affects art; in fact, art holds no meaning without our perception. Take a new twist on your perception and you’ll find that Bourgeois and Serra may not be so opposite in some respect, such as in the area of deciding whether their art is abstraction or representational. Traditionally, any art based on an idea rather than physical object is an abstraction, while art based on an object can be representational or abstraction (keyword: based on). At first glance, it seems clear that Serra’s work is abstraction (based on idea) and Bourgeois’ work is representational of real objects. While an idea is abstract, in the sense that it is simply intangible, that is exactly what makes me wonder if Serra’s work is in fact abstract – is it not possible to represent an idea unique to the artist, something only he knows, very accurately? Would Serra not be the most fit to represent his own idea in the most accurate tangible form possible, through creative means? How is it so much different from a representational art piece, such as the Flying Ducks sculpture outside of UO Lawrence Hall? Every representational art piece, including Flying Ducks, will be interpreted differently. What the viewer gets from them will always sway away from the intended message due to completely subjective situational contexts surrounding the piece and the viewer, just as Serra’s idea may not be accurately understood by the audience; that happens in all art.
While Serra describes his Torqued Eclipses art piece as having “nothing to do with feelings,” he describes how he angles the metal plates in great precision in order to convey a certain feeling to the viewer, turning his art piece into a direct representation of the concept behind his art. I, as a viewer, can analyze those small details and arrive at a conclusion as to what the artist intended to make me feel. Though ideas themselves are abstract (intangible), I can understand his idea through his tangible representation of it. Let’s not forget that at the core of every representational artwork is an idea; there is always an idea or feeling expressed through it. The only essential difference between representational art and Serra's abstract art is that Serra's abstract art is based on an idea that doesn't have an established symbol to represent it, due to the idea’s uniqueness and complexity.
Works Cited
Art 101 Lecture Series (Winter 2011): Amanda Wojick
Art21: Louise Bourgeois
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/bourgeois/index.html]
Art21: Richard Serra
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/serra/index.html#]
Right click on images for sources.
On our class field trip, we visited several sculptures on the University of Oregon campus, including Wind Fence by Ned Kahn behind the Lillis Business Complex and Flying Ducks by Tom Hardy outside of Lawrence Hall. An objective was to compare the experience of simply viewing pictures of the sculptures on a computer, versus walking around and seeing the sculptures in person. After this field trip, I realized that the difference between the two dimensions of viewing is space. Space allows interaction in the form of walking (sometimes touching) to allow the experience of so many new aspects that are not obtainable through an image, including aspects such as point of view, weather, environment/context, and shadows. This in-person experience of space gives new life to the sculpture and presents to the viewer so many more things to appreciate (or critique) about the sculpture.
Richard Serra, minimalist sculptor, argues that there is actually no such thing as just looking; in fact, the viewer is aggressively hunting for meaning and certain qualities in an art piece. Not only this, but the art piece looks back at the viewer. I agree that no matter what, the viewer is hunting for meaning in a painting, even if it is just subconsciously. A psychology teacher once told me that it is impossible for any normally functioning person to think of absolutely nothing at any waking time, which makes me believe that as long as someone is visually processing information, they are also making connections from the art to emotions and past experiences. Especially in the case where the art piece is presented in a setting clearly meant to imply the work is exactly that (an art piece), such as in a gallery, the viewer already feels as if they should be looking for meaning.
Richard Serra’s opinion on the viewer’s aggressive hunt for meaning and the concept of the object looking back at the viewer is reflective of his tendency to exude raw aggression and physicality in his art, as compared to deep psychological reflection. He does this through utilizing giant, cold slabs of metal to create his minimalist sculptures. Something in his art technique that I can relate to and really appreciate is the way he very precisely places the slabs of metal while thinking of how it will affect the viewer’s perception. But to be completely honest, it is very hard for me to appreciate his art aesthetically because no matter how well thought-out his placement, material choice, et cetera are (which are fun to discuss), in the end… they are just a few giant slabs of metal. To be fair, I haven’t seen Serra’s sculptures in person to experience the space and context surrounding the sculptures, so who knows; maybe I’d be surprisingly impressed. Until then, I have to say I much prefer Louise Bourgeois’ sculptures, which offer more elements and shapes to admire (I just realized how incredibly awkward my photo placement under this sentence is).
A part of what makes Louise Bourgeois’ art more dynamic, delicate and detailed is the fact that she created the pieces based on her feelings based on her psychological childhood trauma (feelings of loneliness and betrayal) of finding out her governess was her father’s mistress. I wonder if her attention to her own feelings is also what makes her sensitive to the idea of making art pieces that work with its surroundings’ occupants. Bourgeois on her art piece A Touch of Jane Addams which was placed next to an office building: “Instead of trying to rival the building, I have made a structure which is so discreet and so sensitive that my structure doesn’t have a bone of contention with the building.” Compare this to Serra’s disregard to the art piece’s surrounding occupants when his sculpture Tiled Arc, placed in front of an office building, got many complaints from the building occupants that it was obstructing view and he retorted that art is not for the public.
Louise Bourgeois and Richard Serra clearly have different styles, approaches, and opinions on art, which brings to mind the concept of each being defined by opposites. Would the extreme of Serra’s cold minimalism even exist without the extreme of Bourgeois’ emotion-filled sculptures? I believe so. While the existence of an idea’s extreme opposite may magnify the idea, it still exists as exactly what it is. In a less vague example: if most art were of the same style as minimalism, its label may not be called ‘minimalism’ because it would be the norm, not an extreme such as ‘minimal’; the content of the art still remains the same. The aspect of art that changes is how we perceive it, not the content itself.
A recurring theme we’ve touched upon seems to be how our perception affects art; in fact, art holds no meaning without our perception. Take a new twist on your perception and you’ll find that Bourgeois and Serra may not be so opposite in some respect, such as in the area of deciding whether their art is abstraction or representational. Traditionally, any art based on an idea rather than physical object is an abstraction, while art based on an object can be representational or abstraction (keyword: based on). At first glance, it seems clear that Serra’s work is abstraction (based on idea) and Bourgeois’ work is representational of real objects. While an idea is abstract, in the sense that it is simply intangible, that is exactly what makes me wonder if Serra’s work is in fact abstract – is it not possible to represent an idea unique to the artist, something only he knows, very accurately? Would Serra not be the most fit to represent his own idea in the most accurate tangible form possible, through creative means? How is it so much different from a representational art piece, such as the Flying Ducks sculpture outside of UO Lawrence Hall? Every representational art piece, including Flying Ducks, will be interpreted differently. What the viewer gets from them will always sway away from the intended message due to completely subjective situational contexts surrounding the piece and the viewer, just as Serra’s idea may not be accurately understood by the audience; that happens in all art.
While Serra describes his Torqued Eclipses art piece as having “nothing to do with feelings,” he describes how he angles the metal plates in great precision in order to convey a certain feeling to the viewer, turning his art piece into a direct representation of the concept behind his art. I, as a viewer, can analyze those small details and arrive at a conclusion as to what the artist intended to make me feel. Though ideas themselves are abstract (intangible), I can understand his idea through his tangible representation of it. Let’s not forget that at the core of every representational artwork is an idea; there is always an idea or feeling expressed through it. The only essential difference between representational art and Serra's abstract art is that Serra's abstract art is based on an idea that doesn't have an established symbol to represent it, due to the idea’s uniqueness and complexity.
Works Cited
Art 101 Lecture Series (Winter 2011): Amanda Wojick
Art21: Louise Bourgeois
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/bourgeois/index.html]
Art21: Richard Serra
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/serra/index.html#]
Right click on images for sources.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Entry 7
Our guest lecturer this week was Anya Kivarkis, who spoke about art reproduction in many of its forms which brought up discussions of hierarchy, ownership and power (and how artists talk about it), commodification, and what makes an item precious.
Commodification is a subject that came up often in both lecture and our research on John Feodorov. It feels almost silly trying to write about commodification alone since we live in America and, at first glance, it seems there’s nothing I can say that any thinking American is not already acutely aware of. So, let’s start with something especially controversial: the commodification of spirituality. Feodorov magnifies this issue by creating art pieces that take everyday commodities and ‘spiritualizes’ them by adding on elements from the Navajo and Christian religions to create a confusing and slightly (or more if you’re religious) disturbing mesh of commodity and spirituality.
Take for example Feodorov’s Totem Teddy art series, in which he takes normal teddy bears, adds on totem masks, then resells the teddies. What makes these teddies attention-grabbing is the fact that adding the totem masks brings power back to the sacredness of the bear in the Navajo religion, yet at the same time is a slap in the face to that sacredness by turning the bear totem into nothing more than a mass-produced commodity. Feodorov clearly states his intentions when making this art piece:
Something that really comes out in my work, or I hope comes out in my work, is trying to infuse the intimidating back into the spiritual. Spirituality should be intimidating. It really should. Because people have no business being on a buddy-buddy basis with God. I think that's just really stupid.
Personal opinions on gods aside, I believe that Feodorov’s tactic definitely works for scaring people away from commodification of spirituality by showing them the extreme. It gives any audience, religious or not, an uneasy feeling at the realization that something meant to be personally precious and meaningful has been bastardized so artificially. And to the truly religious, I imagine it would repulse and shock them into thinking critically of the issue of commodification of religion, and how to avoid this in their personal lives. Yet, I cannot help but worry that too much poking fun at the concept of commodification of anything we deeply value by doing exactly that runs the risk of actually legitimizing its commodification in the future.
While it is important to think about how to protect the ideas and objects that we value, it is also important to question what we value and why we value it so as to make sure it truly holds the meaning we always thought it had. What makes something precious to us? Let’s start in terms of art. What comes to mind is Gijs Bakker’s art piece in which she took a photo of a diamond and glued a real diamond on that picture. The diamond itself is worth more than a picture of the diamond ever would, but if the art piece itself is made by a famous artist, the piece will be bought by some big spender for way more than the worth of both the diamond and the picture. This is reminiscent of the Colbert Show episode in which Colbert upped the value of his photograph by letting it get completely destroyed aesthetically... by famous artists. What does this tell us about what we value in the art community? I personally would not in a million years buy a mediocre art piece just because a famous artist made it, and I think the fact that some people would is a result of uber-rich people getting bored with their money and caring way too much about status. I believe this really takes away from the true appreciation of art purely in terms of its message, innovation, genius, and most of all its aesthetic beauty. If an art piece would not stand a day on the market without being backed by the label of a famous artist, it is in my opinion likely not good art.
Combine the issue of lack of appreciation for quality art with the issue of commodification of spirituality and it ultimately gives you a capitalistic society to blame. But delve deeper, and it seems that there is another way of looking at it: capitalism, while supported by laws, is a socioeconomic structure, not a completely determined lifestyle that must also control how we calculate value in terms of art. While a long ways from implementing a possibly better socioeconomic structure or countering the adverse effects of capitalism, being simply aware of capitalism's effects can at least grant us as artists one indispensable ability: to use this unique perspective to discuss and influence what the art community considers precious art.
Works Cited
Art 101 Lecture Series (Winter 2011): Anya Kivarkis
Art21: John Feodorov
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/feodorov/]
Right click on images for sources.
Commodification is a subject that came up often in both lecture and our research on John Feodorov. It feels almost silly trying to write about commodification alone since we live in America and, at first glance, it seems there’s nothing I can say that any thinking American is not already acutely aware of. So, let’s start with something especially controversial: the commodification of spirituality. Feodorov magnifies this issue by creating art pieces that take everyday commodities and ‘spiritualizes’ them by adding on elements from the Navajo and Christian religions to create a confusing and slightly (or more if you’re religious) disturbing mesh of commodity and spirituality.
Take for example Feodorov’s Totem Teddy art series, in which he takes normal teddy bears, adds on totem masks, then resells the teddies. What makes these teddies attention-grabbing is the fact that adding the totem masks brings power back to the sacredness of the bear in the Navajo religion, yet at the same time is a slap in the face to that sacredness by turning the bear totem into nothing more than a mass-produced commodity. Feodorov clearly states his intentions when making this art piece:
Something that really comes out in my work, or I hope comes out in my work, is trying to infuse the intimidating back into the spiritual. Spirituality should be intimidating. It really should. Because people have no business being on a buddy-buddy basis with God. I think that's just really stupid.
Personal opinions on gods aside, I believe that Feodorov’s tactic definitely works for scaring people away from commodification of spirituality by showing them the extreme. It gives any audience, religious or not, an uneasy feeling at the realization that something meant to be personally precious and meaningful has been bastardized so artificially. And to the truly religious, I imagine it would repulse and shock them into thinking critically of the issue of commodification of religion, and how to avoid this in their personal lives. Yet, I cannot help but worry that too much poking fun at the concept of commodification of anything we deeply value by doing exactly that runs the risk of actually legitimizing its commodification in the future.
While it is important to think about how to protect the ideas and objects that we value, it is also important to question what we value and why we value it so as to make sure it truly holds the meaning we always thought it had. What makes something precious to us? Let’s start in terms of art. What comes to mind is Gijs Bakker’s art piece in which she took a photo of a diamond and glued a real diamond on that picture. The diamond itself is worth more than a picture of the diamond ever would, but if the art piece itself is made by a famous artist, the piece will be bought by some big spender for way more than the worth of both the diamond and the picture. This is reminiscent of the Colbert Show episode in which Colbert upped the value of his photograph by letting it get completely destroyed aesthetically... by famous artists. What does this tell us about what we value in the art community? I personally would not in a million years buy a mediocre art piece just because a famous artist made it, and I think the fact that some people would is a result of uber-rich people getting bored with their money and caring way too much about status. I believe this really takes away from the true appreciation of art purely in terms of its message, innovation, genius, and most of all its aesthetic beauty. If an art piece would not stand a day on the market without being backed by the label of a famous artist, it is in my opinion likely not good art.
Combine the issue of lack of appreciation for quality art with the issue of commodification of spirituality and it ultimately gives you a capitalistic society to blame. But delve deeper, and it seems that there is another way of looking at it: capitalism, while supported by laws, is a socioeconomic structure, not a completely determined lifestyle that must also control how we calculate value in terms of art. While a long ways from implementing a possibly better socioeconomic structure or countering the adverse effects of capitalism, being simply aware of capitalism's effects can at least grant us as artists one indispensable ability: to use this unique perspective to discuss and influence what the art community considers precious art.
Works Cited
Art 101 Lecture Series (Winter 2011): Anya Kivarkis
Art21: John Feodorov
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/feodorov/]
Right click on images for sources.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Entry 6
The focus of discussion this week was Roland Barthes’ ‘Death of the Artist’, in which Barthes posits the idea that the author must remove himself or herself from his writing in order for the reader to find their own interpretation of the stories the author relays. What I interpreted from the reading was that the reader is the mind that connects, interprets, and sees the final design of all the characters and views in the story; yet, classic criticism ignores the reader in favor of concentrating on what the author must be interpreting/thinking, when he is actually just the ‘dictionary’ which relays information to the reader. We must let go of the concept of the author being the force of meaning behind the writing, in order to let ourselves as viewers act as what we really are, the interpreters that find their own meaning and interpretations.
I can understand Barthes’ point of view as the author being the final destination that decides the meaning of the writing, and understand that Barthes presented a revolutionary concept for his time: giving power to the viewer rather than creator. Yet, I cannot help but disagree with several of his points. The first one being, that I believe the author is also an interpreter of the story, thus the story told by the author cannot be fully trusted to be an accurate ‘relay of stories’ due to bias. Take for example, a giant meteor shower that is seen by two people; one writes an article in the newspaper on it, the other reads that article. The author of the article is a scientologist who states, in what he considers scientific and realistic terms, that he saw a bunch of spaceships with alien DNA flying to the earth sent by the evil lord Xenu in attempts to conquer the human race. The second person who is not a scientologist who also saw the meteor shower reads this article. Is it wrong for the reader to believe the author has his own ulterior motives and/or biases that turns the author into just as much an interpreter of information?
My opinion sides more so with that of Kiki Smith, who believed that art is just a way to think; “Art is something that moves from your insides into the physical world and at the same time, it’s just a representation of your insides in a different form.” While it was noble of Barthes to honor the reader as the sole interpreter that find the meanings of the author’s story, considering the author as a simple ‘teller of stories and facts’ gives the author way too much power; it puts them in a position whose authority is hard to be questioned even though the presentation of information is greatly affected by the author’s personal opinions. In my view, considering the author as simply an interpreter above all brings the author down a notch of undeserved power, and onto the same level as the reader by recognizing the humanity of both author and reader.
I can understand Barthes’ point of view as the author being the final destination that decides the meaning of the writing, and understand that Barthes presented a revolutionary concept for his time: giving power to the viewer rather than creator. Yet, I cannot help but disagree with several of his points. The first one being, that I believe the author is also an interpreter of the story, thus the story told by the author cannot be fully trusted to be an accurate ‘relay of stories’ due to bias. Take for example, a giant meteor shower that is seen by two people; one writes an article in the newspaper on it, the other reads that article. The author of the article is a scientologist who states, in what he considers scientific and realistic terms, that he saw a bunch of spaceships with alien DNA flying to the earth sent by the evil lord Xenu in attempts to conquer the human race. The second person who is not a scientologist who also saw the meteor shower reads this article. Is it wrong for the reader to believe the author has his own ulterior motives and/or biases that turns the author into just as much an interpreter of information?
My opinion sides more so with that of Kiki Smith, who believed that art is just a way to think; “Art is something that moves from your insides into the physical world and at the same time, it’s just a representation of your insides in a different form.” While it was noble of Barthes to honor the reader as the sole interpreter that find the meanings of the author’s story, considering the author as a simple ‘teller of stories and facts’ gives the author way too much power; it puts them in a position whose authority is hard to be questioned even though the presentation of information is greatly affected by the author’s personal opinions. In my view, considering the author as simply an interpreter above all brings the author down a notch of undeserved power, and onto the same level as the reader by recognizing the humanity of both author and reader.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Entry 5
Guest speaker John Park gave us a lecture on the pros and cons of digital media, making us ask ourselves if we had a responsibility to be conscious of the impact certain innovations had on our lives. On the positive side, technology allows us a whole new level of organization, communication, and information storage that would otherwise be unobtainable without the internet and telecommunications. On the negative side, digital media is making us less involved in essential face-to-face interaction, takes a toll on the environment from so much manufacturing upgrades in technology, and ultimately holds the risk of turning us into zombies in the sense that we will learn to not think for ourselves, but instead let technology rule our lives and make our decisions for us. From all of the above, my biggest concern is that this transition to digital media in our society is slowly turning us into zombies because it just gets too easy to rely on technology to not only replace our critical thinking skills, but also our independence of thought.
In the case of ‘zombie threat’: while I can see how some applications of digital media pose the threat of turning us into inactive button-pressing cogs in the machine of society, I do not see digital media as the direct cause of this trend. As stated in class discussion, art is a reflection of current social attitude – the same goes for every other form of communication, including digital media. But is digital media really an accurate portrayal? Like traditional art, digital media is simply a medium through which members of society can express their will, and naturally those with more control over this new medium will use it to impose their own will. Take a look in the history books and it is apparent that this concept of zombification is not new – those in power have always tried to find ways to sedate the general public into acceptance and even idolization of the ‘greater will’ – the bourgeois’ will.
Take Facebook’s founder, Mark Zuckerberg, for example. When asked in January 2010 why he keeps on taking away privacy capabilities from Facebook users, he replied, “"People have really gotten comfortable not only sharing more information and different kinds, but more openly and with more people. … We view it as our role in the system to constantly be innovating and be updating what our system is to reflect what the current social norms are [Read Write Web].” While we may want to blame digital media for this trend towards zombification and tell ourselves we need to be aware of the dangers this new medium of communication poses, the real danger is and has always been the will of the people in control of the medium. We mistake digital media as the problem because it is now the most dominant and accessible tool through which those in power can impose their wills on us; what we need to do is take this tool away from them and use it to improve the living conditions of the whole. We do this by creating opportunities through digital media that promote personal initiative and involvement.
I do not believe creating art pieces and digital programs that allow the audience to be involved in the creative process is enough alone to foster a more engaged and conscientious community. I do, however, think it is a great start and one of the biggest ways to influence society through creative means. Janet Cardiff’s ‘Walks’ art series is an example of this. I really wish I could experience one of her Walks so I can give a more informed view, not to mention also because I love mind-bending experiences, but for now I can only make inferences. Participating in one of Janet Cardiff’s ‘Walks’ art pieces seems like it would be a fun experience, but what really makes it interesting to me is the fact that it creates an uncommon, alien point of view for the audience. Because the audience is the active participant that pushes the experience along through opening doors, actively walking through the art piece, et cetera, hearing the audio that at times directly contradicts what is seen forces the audience to not only question environmental factors beyond their control, but their own actions as well. This, in turn, provokes the audience to develop a sharper sense to probe for the hidden realities around them, and question the results of their own actions. While it may seem a stretch to imagine art installations even make a dent in the big picture of society, these smaller things count on the subconscious level; I imagine a child going through The Walk and having the experience resonate with them so profoundly in their formative years that they learn to critically question everything they do, and in general, use a higher level of thinking.
Delving even deeper in the area of the psyche, my pessimistic and cynical view of society may just be due to my own personal mindset and experiences. What comes to mind is Paul Pfeiffer’s Dutch Interior which is based on the Amityville Horror staircase. This work of art focuses on the meeting of gazes between the devil and a human from different perspectives: one at the top of the stairway looking down, the other at the bottom looking up. Unlike Cardiff’s art piece which adds audio that does not accurately portray real-time reality, Pfeiffer allows you to look at the same real object through two different views, literally and metaphorically giving you a completely different perspective on the same unaltered object. It makes me think: wouldn’t this mean that I can lead a happier life simply by looking at the real facts about society’s condition in a different, more positive light? I definitely believe a positive attitude is important to being happy, but in the sense that it is important to stay positive in your attempt to change the world for the better, despite all the crap in the world you know to be real. I value the medium of art because it is the easiest outlet through which I can express my will. I think it’s great that now with the prevalence of digital media, the potential for anyone to access an outlet for expression has greatly increased. Although digital media has the tendency to be mistaken as a replacement for critical thinking and interactivity, it eases my worries to know that there are artists willing to counter the trend towards zombification and use digital media for providing new perspectives, provoking thoughtfulness, and promoting creative expressions of will.
In the case of ‘zombie threat’: while I can see how some applications of digital media pose the threat of turning us into inactive button-pressing cogs in the machine of society, I do not see digital media as the direct cause of this trend. As stated in class discussion, art is a reflection of current social attitude – the same goes for every other form of communication, including digital media. But is digital media really an accurate portrayal? Like traditional art, digital media is simply a medium through which members of society can express their will, and naturally those with more control over this new medium will use it to impose their own will. Take a look in the history books and it is apparent that this concept of zombification is not new – those in power have always tried to find ways to sedate the general public into acceptance and even idolization of the ‘greater will’ – the bourgeois’ will.
Take Facebook’s founder, Mark Zuckerberg, for example. When asked in January 2010 why he keeps on taking away privacy capabilities from Facebook users, he replied, “"People have really gotten comfortable not only sharing more information and different kinds, but more openly and with more people. … We view it as our role in the system to constantly be innovating and be updating what our system is to reflect what the current social norms are [Read Write Web].” While we may want to blame digital media for this trend towards zombification and tell ourselves we need to be aware of the dangers this new medium of communication poses, the real danger is and has always been the will of the people in control of the medium. We mistake digital media as the problem because it is now the most dominant and accessible tool through which those in power can impose their wills on us; what we need to do is take this tool away from them and use it to improve the living conditions of the whole. We do this by creating opportunities through digital media that promote personal initiative and involvement.
I do not believe creating art pieces and digital programs that allow the audience to be involved in the creative process is enough alone to foster a more engaged and conscientious community. I do, however, think it is a great start and one of the biggest ways to influence society through creative means. Janet Cardiff’s ‘Walks’ art series is an example of this. I really wish I could experience one of her Walks so I can give a more informed view, not to mention also because I love mind-bending experiences, but for now I can only make inferences. Participating in one of Janet Cardiff’s ‘Walks’ art pieces seems like it would be a fun experience, but what really makes it interesting to me is the fact that it creates an uncommon, alien point of view for the audience. Because the audience is the active participant that pushes the experience along through opening doors, actively walking through the art piece, et cetera, hearing the audio that at times directly contradicts what is seen forces the audience to not only question environmental factors beyond their control, but their own actions as well. This, in turn, provokes the audience to develop a sharper sense to probe for the hidden realities around them, and question the results of their own actions. While it may seem a stretch to imagine art installations even make a dent in the big picture of society, these smaller things count on the subconscious level; I imagine a child going through The Walk and having the experience resonate with them so profoundly in their formative years that they learn to critically question everything they do, and in general, use a higher level of thinking.
Delving even deeper in the area of the psyche, my pessimistic and cynical view of society may just be due to my own personal mindset and experiences. What comes to mind is Paul Pfeiffer’s Dutch Interior which is based on the Amityville Horror staircase. This work of art focuses on the meeting of gazes between the devil and a human from different perspectives: one at the top of the stairway looking down, the other at the bottom looking up. Unlike Cardiff’s art piece which adds audio that does not accurately portray real-time reality, Pfeiffer allows you to look at the same real object through two different views, literally and metaphorically giving you a completely different perspective on the same unaltered object. It makes me think: wouldn’t this mean that I can lead a happier life simply by looking at the real facts about society’s condition in a different, more positive light? I definitely believe a positive attitude is important to being happy, but in the sense that it is important to stay positive in your attempt to change the world for the better, despite all the crap in the world you know to be real. I value the medium of art because it is the easiest outlet through which I can express my will. I think it’s great that now with the prevalence of digital media, the potential for anyone to access an outlet for expression has greatly increased. Although digital media has the tendency to be mistaken as a replacement for critical thinking and interactivity, it eases my worries to know that there are artists willing to counter the trend towards zombification and use digital media for providing new perspectives, provoking thoughtfulness, and promoting creative expressions of will.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Entry 4
Craig Hickman was our guest speaker this week in Art 101, and he talked about a wide range of topics including different photographic styles, the ideas behind choosing them, and critique from the art community on those styles. A point of interest was the works of photographers that presented candid or ‘on-the-spot’ photography that was ‘unedited’, such as Diane Arbus’ portraits of strangers on the streets that she found interesting. What made Arbus’ portraits especially interesting was not only the fact that she spontaneously found subjects to photograph, but that these people were funny or amusing people to look at; to put it bluntly, like a mild freak show carefully selected by a good photographer. While the quality of her photography and choice of subjects were no doubt enough to grab the attention of the public, Hickman pointed out an issue surrounding Arbus’ work: Is she exploiting her subjects because some pictures are obviously taken for their humor value, poking fun at the subjects’ odd choice of garb (expression of personality) or physical features?
There is often a fine line between exploitation of photography subjects and art taken for the sake of art. But then again, sometimes the answer lies with just that: Did the artist take the photograph for the sake of art, or with the intention to exploit its subjects? With this interpretation, the answer becomes crystal clear in most cases. Take, for example, E.J. Bellocq. This 'mysterious' photographer’s works were discovered by fellow photographer Lee Friedlander in Bellocq’s desk after his death. They were pictures of prostitutes posing in the nude for him. While Bellocq was a professional photographer, those particular photographs were obviously taken purely for selfish personal pleasur(e/ing), which makes it exploitation. In stark contrast, Diane Arbus did not exploit her subjects if she intended to take the picture purely for its artistic value and appreciation its viewers had for the photograph.
Which brings me to this: Have we become so egotistical as artists that we only take into account whether or not the artist is exploiting the subject, ignoring the subject, viewer, or distributor's intent? What of fact that Friedlander exploited Bellocq by taking his private photographs and showcasing them for his own goals? Personally, I’d be rolling in my grave if I died then some sick guy found my porn stash and displayed it to the world as my personal ‘art’. And I’d be damned if those subjects of Arbus’ photographs were not willingly being photographed. Instead of dealing with complicated labels of ‘exploiting, ‘not exploiting’, ‘exploited’ or ‘not exploited’, I’ve finally reached the conclusion that some things must just be taken with all their facts and interpreted as a whole without labels. Labels in this case will do no good unless you’re a lawyer looking to defend a case, and they take away from the essential point of this debate: artists need to think about exploitation and be aware of the implications their photographs have on both their subjects and their audience.
Artists must be concerned about exploitation not only in the sense of 'taking advantage' or degrading the human worth, but also in the sense of misleading the viewer to believe falsified information. Errol Morris discusses in his article Photography as a Weapon the photoshopped Iranian missiles controversy where an Iranian news company, Sepah, edited a photograph of Iranian test missiles to add in an extra missile. It is already a shame that we are lied to every day by advertisements of models who have been heavily photoshopped; that’s business for you. But editing pictures in the news just for a better story or to lie to the public about incredibly important issues? This trend in photo-editing for the sake of misleading its viewers is a great danger to the credibility and integrity of all formal news sources and while we cannot control what another country does as far as digital editing goes, I at least want a solution to this in the United States. I can imagine putting a sort of fine on heavily misleading newspaper photographs, but then there are too many loopholes: large news companies doing it anyways because they can afford the fine, comedy news being unjustly fined, and more than anything just the very issue of it being a restriction of freedom of expression and art. But as much as I value freedom of expression and art, there has to be a line drawn somewhere when it interferes with the general public’s perception of reality and facts! I can think of a dozen ideas for solving this issue, but none are likely to be a lasting method to fix this problem. As Albert Einstein said, “The world we have is a product of thinking; it cannot be changed without changing our thinking.” Our most ideal path would be to change the ethics and purpose behind photojournalism altogether. Oh, but that's just idealism; Wouldn’t it be swell to be able to simply change others’ perspectives and values to fix all of our problems?
Alas, a more moral and sensitive public doesn’t have to remain a far-fetched fairytale that philosophy majors sit around and fantasize about while sipping lattes. Some people take the initiative to effectively work towards making it a reality through art; Alfredo Jaar (A.J.) is a perfect example. In his Rwanda project, he traveled to Rwanda to take as many photographs as he possibly could to send back to the U.S. and inform us about the horrors being experienced in Rwanda while genocide is taking place. His technique of using zoom-ins of the eyes and face of victims emphasize their humanity and emotionally influence the viewer to be conscientious and help out. An argument against this goes, “Well, isn’t that still a form of manipulation, thus exploitation, even if it is used for good?”
Manipulation has such a bad connotation stuck to it because the knee-jerk reaction is to assume it means a misleading of others in order to achieve an ulterior, selfish motive. Clearly, A.J.’s work fits none of this negative definition of manipulation. That definition is far different from the broad definition that his art may fall under: doing something with the intent of influencing (something or someone) cleverly and skilfully. This means any good communicator, including artist, can be described as a manipulator.
A.J. said of his art, “My imagination starts working based on the real life event [Art21: Protest].” In other words, he keeps his facts straight and doesn’t try to photoshop dynamites and lions into his photos in order to influence the thoughts and feelings of others. A.J. is not only taking steps to make the world a better place, but also to make the world of photojournalism a more honest one in his own way. I admire him because he is an inspiration to any artist aspiring to positively change the attitudes and actions of others around the world, without exploitation, through art.
Works Cited
Art 101 Lecture Series (Winter 2011): Craig Hickman
Photography as a Weapon by Errol Morris
[http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/08/11/photography-as-a-weapon/]
Art21: Protest
[http://video.pbs.org/video/1239788836]
Art21: Alfredo Jaar
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/jaar/]
Right click on images for sources.
There is often a fine line between exploitation of photography subjects and art taken for the sake of art. But then again, sometimes the answer lies with just that: Did the artist take the photograph for the sake of art, or with the intention to exploit its subjects? With this interpretation, the answer becomes crystal clear in most cases. Take, for example, E.J. Bellocq. This 'mysterious' photographer’s works were discovered by fellow photographer Lee Friedlander in Bellocq’s desk after his death. They were pictures of prostitutes posing in the nude for him. While Bellocq was a professional photographer, those particular photographs were obviously taken purely for selfish personal pleasur(e/ing), which makes it exploitation. In stark contrast, Diane Arbus did not exploit her subjects if she intended to take the picture purely for its artistic value and appreciation its viewers had for the photograph.
Which brings me to this: Have we become so egotistical as artists that we only take into account whether or not the artist is exploiting the subject, ignoring the subject, viewer, or distributor's intent? What of fact that Friedlander exploited Bellocq by taking his private photographs and showcasing them for his own goals? Personally, I’d be rolling in my grave if I died then some sick guy found my porn stash and displayed it to the world as my personal ‘art’. And I’d be damned if those subjects of Arbus’ photographs were not willingly being photographed. Instead of dealing with complicated labels of ‘exploiting, ‘not exploiting’, ‘exploited’ or ‘not exploited’, I’ve finally reached the conclusion that some things must just be taken with all their facts and interpreted as a whole without labels. Labels in this case will do no good unless you’re a lawyer looking to defend a case, and they take away from the essential point of this debate: artists need to think about exploitation and be aware of the implications their photographs have on both their subjects and their audience.
Artists must be concerned about exploitation not only in the sense of 'taking advantage' or degrading the human worth, but also in the sense of misleading the viewer to believe falsified information. Errol Morris discusses in his article Photography as a Weapon the photoshopped Iranian missiles controversy where an Iranian news company, Sepah, edited a photograph of Iranian test missiles to add in an extra missile. It is already a shame that we are lied to every day by advertisements of models who have been heavily photoshopped; that’s business for you. But editing pictures in the news just for a better story or to lie to the public about incredibly important issues? This trend in photo-editing for the sake of misleading its viewers is a great danger to the credibility and integrity of all formal news sources and while we cannot control what another country does as far as digital editing goes, I at least want a solution to this in the United States. I can imagine putting a sort of fine on heavily misleading newspaper photographs, but then there are too many loopholes: large news companies doing it anyways because they can afford the fine, comedy news being unjustly fined, and more than anything just the very issue of it being a restriction of freedom of expression and art. But as much as I value freedom of expression and art, there has to be a line drawn somewhere when it interferes with the general public’s perception of reality and facts! I can think of a dozen ideas for solving this issue, but none are likely to be a lasting method to fix this problem. As Albert Einstein said, “The world we have is a product of thinking; it cannot be changed without changing our thinking.” Our most ideal path would be to change the ethics and purpose behind photojournalism altogether. Oh, but that's just idealism; Wouldn’t it be swell to be able to simply change others’ perspectives and values to fix all of our problems?
Alas, a more moral and sensitive public doesn’t have to remain a far-fetched fairytale that philosophy majors sit around and fantasize about while sipping lattes. Some people take the initiative to effectively work towards making it a reality through art; Alfredo Jaar (A.J.) is a perfect example. In his Rwanda project, he traveled to Rwanda to take as many photographs as he possibly could to send back to the U.S. and inform us about the horrors being experienced in Rwanda while genocide is taking place. His technique of using zoom-ins of the eyes and face of victims emphasize their humanity and emotionally influence the viewer to be conscientious and help out. An argument against this goes, “Well, isn’t that still a form of manipulation, thus exploitation, even if it is used for good?”
Manipulation has such a bad connotation stuck to it because the knee-jerk reaction is to assume it means a misleading of others in order to achieve an ulterior, selfish motive. Clearly, A.J.’s work fits none of this negative definition of manipulation. That definition is far different from the broad definition that his art may fall under: doing something with the intent of influencing (something or someone) cleverly and skilfully. This means any good communicator, including artist, can be described as a manipulator.
A.J. said of his art, “My imagination starts working based on the real life event [Art21: Protest].” In other words, he keeps his facts straight and doesn’t try to photoshop dynamites and lions into his photos in order to influence the thoughts and feelings of others. A.J. is not only taking steps to make the world a better place, but also to make the world of photojournalism a more honest one in his own way. I admire him because he is an inspiration to any artist aspiring to positively change the attitudes and actions of others around the world, without exploitation, through art.
Works Cited
Art 101 Lecture Series (Winter 2011): Craig Hickman
Photography as a Weapon by Errol Morris
[http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/08/11/photography-as-a-weapon/]
Art21: Protest
[http://video.pbs.org/video/1239788836]
Art21: Alfredo Jaar
[http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/jaar/]
Right click on images for sources.
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