Posts Tagged ‘art’

« Older Entries

Violence and the Art of Recouperation

Saturday, November 26th, 2011

The use of pepper spray has taken center stage in our cultural dialog. Be it police spraying peaceful protestors or shoppers “competing” (an amazing euphemism for unrestrained violent aggression) with other shoppers, pepper spray is there. “Casually pepper spraying cop” has become an internet meme which has honestly shocked me. An act showing such pure disregard for human welfare had, within days, become recuoperated into the narrative of consumption thereby mitigating the impact of this gruesome violation of human rights.

What is the connection between casually pepper spraying cop and the woman who assaulted a fellow human during a crazed shopping spree the day after Thanksgiving? Perhaps there is no connection and they just happened to use the same tool. Or perhaps they are both a manifestation of the same disregard for human welfare and show how fundamentally corrupt the moral structure of our culture has become. How else can Fox News commentators claim that such a weapon is “essentially a food product?” Of course when we enter the moral universe where pizza is a vegetable and corporations are humans all bets are off.

As an artist I have honestly been stunned by these events. Artistically stunned. The utter horror I have witnessed as violent disregard for human well being is seen as the legitimate response to people asking for a corrupted system to be fixed has made me at times physically ill. The violence here in the US is nowhere near the violence in Egypt, yet, the Egyptians are taking their cue from us in firing on civilians. These sequences of events shock me. The shock I am feeling is in large part making it impossible to create. As such it is forcing me to confront the role of the artist in times of upheaval.

Picasso’s Guernica is an amazing depiction of the horrors of war. What is the equivalent work for our time? In a world so heavily saturated by consumerist thinking is it possible to create a work that can stand in critique of that culture and its resulting violence without falling victim to recouperation itself? Perhaps Banksy and his ilk are the only ones. I have seen a number of new Banksy, or Banksy derived, works cropping up all over my Oakland neighborhood recently. For a cultural battle being waged in the streets, perhaps its truest artistic form must manifest in those very streets.

Or is it the rough edges of citizen journalism? In a world where moral and ethical obligations are not even considered in the dominant cultural narrative why should refined aesthetics have center stage? The rough unedited livestream documentary is the film. Not whatever reified and safely packaged docutainment Michael Moore shoves out of his studio in a year or two. The poets are on Twitter. The performance artists are hurling teargas canisters back at the lines of riot cops.

I listen to the narratives on twitter and the theater world appears functionally unaffected by the world around it. For a medium that lays claim to immediacy and the visceral experience, there is no larger conversation happening about how theater can engage this world. Sure there is the isolated individual. There is even a petition on line for #occupyBroadway doing free performances in Times Square. But how will that challenge the system? How will that stand against the dominant modes of power and control? How is that dangerous?

Merely doing a play about characters that embody the 99% misses the point. Willy Loman has nothing to do with the status quo problems. He is a product of mid-century American Capitalism. Sure it shares themes with now but we have moved past that. To do that play is to speak to the world before September 17th, 2011 when tents were set up in Liberty Park. We are on the verge of war. The powers that be have declared war in their violent repression of peaceful protestors. Now we see who will stand up.

Antigone is a play that speaks to now. The lone voice standing up for what is right against the entire force of the State apparatus. A friend of mine is currently working on a stage adaptation of Cory Doctorow’s Little Brother. But when we were talking about it, during the November 2nd General Strike, he mentioned that Little Brother was a post-9/11 story and that Occupy Wall Street has shifted the narrative into the next phase. Even a play that has not been finished yet is already outdated.

Theater is alive not because it is live. Peter Brooks wrote eloquently on the deadly nature of much that passes for theater. Theater is alive only when it connects directly with the world around it. When it plugs into the larger cultural stream and manifests, in physical form, our subconscious and our struggles. The Brecht and Weill debut of The Mahagonny Song Spiel caused riots in the streets. That is theater that is alive.

We do not need any more dead plays. Willy Loman is the champion for those who have not yet woken up to the radical inequalities this world faces. Willy Loman embodies the underbelly of an America we long ago sold to the highest bidder. Willy Loman died with the repeal of Glass-Steagal. Willy Loman died with Citizen’s United.

Antigone refuses to die. Antigone lives wherever the just are repressed. Antigone speaks truth to power wherever the marginalized have their voices taken from them. Antigone stands against the State whenever the State stands against its people. Antigone refuses recouperation into the dominant narrative. Antigone lives another day to chant “We don’t die/We Multiply/Hella hella Occupy.”

Tags: , , ,
Posted in theatre, theory | 1 Comment »

It’s the art stupid

Monday, February 28th, 2011

My work ranges a long vertical spectrum from the basements of art galleries to 1st National Broadway tours. It also has a wide aesthetic spectrum from the deeply esoteric dramatizations of post-Heideggerian texts to popular farce. I light for dance, opera, theater, live music, art installations, and more. No matter what medium I am working in, in whatever aesthetic vein, for however much money, the common thread is that we are all striving to make the best work possible.

It is an amazing thing to behold really. Because when it comes right down to it, if you are not in this for the love of the art you better get out fast. The hours are terrible, the money is worse, projects are inconveniently timed, and career advancement takes a long time as you slowly watch your mentors and idols die off. And did I mention the money was bad and the hours are worse?

There’s an old joke that runs something like this:
Q: How do you make a small fortune in the theater?
A: Start out with a large fortune.

Because of these realities of time and money and love of the product, we all make sacrifices. Some of us work shitty jobs to fund our underfunded art. Others take a de facto vow of poverty. Some are blessed with independent wealth which allows them maintain some degree of creature comfort. And should you be cursed with success every relationship outside of the work is negatively impacted.

The only other group I can think of who willingly suffers in this way is the National Masochist Association. So why do we do it?

I had a mentor of mine once say “If you can think of ANYthing else to do with your life that would make you happy, do that.” Being as I couldn’t, I didn’t. And why not?

Because the magic of creation is unlike anything else I have ever done in my life. Creating a work of art, a true work of art, one that engenders more questions in me than answers, one that leaves an audience breathless, wondering, joyful, and full of tears, is an experience unlike any other. Taking a dark room, a black box, and filling it with another world that moves and changes and transforms, is the most wonderful thing I can think to do.

The only other activity I have engaged in that gave me a similar sense of satisfaction was back when I did black and white photography. Shooting the film was fun. Waiting for it to develop was nice. But watching an image, my image, appear as if by magic, through the rippling tray of chemicals, on a formerly blank white piece of paper was amazing. Tweaking the various filters and exposure times to get the image just the right balance of light and dark was awesome.

So it is with light. Watching the curtain open to reveal a new world is an astonishing thing to be a part of.


Et by Andrew Skeels

Art is not easy and it does not come cheaply. It is no wonder then that throughout human history artists have been supported by nation states, corporations, or wealthy individuals. These people, like the artist herself, do it because of their love for the work. It does not make fiscal sense to pay for a piece of canvass encrusted with pigment infused oils, or to build a theater and attempt to recreate Greek Drama through the use of sung, rather than spoken, words.

No. These people, be they the Vatican, the de Medicis, or the Guggenheims play such a significant role in the creation of art because they love it. Perhaps they love it for reasons other than the creators. Perhaps that love runs less than altruistic. But love it they do. There are far more expedient means to social and political influence than artistic patronage. Without a love of the work there is no reasonable excuse for such otherwise absurd behavior.

Even contemporary examples are, I am confident, borne out of love for the art. While the current Spider-Man musical engenders no end of schadenfreude I firmly believe its creators are there for the sole purpose of making the best work they know how to do. I know some of them personally and can not imagine them doing anything else.

It is easy to sit at some distance from a trainwreck and point fingers and claim those involved are not “true” artists. It is hard to truly accept the fact that these people have the highest artistic standards for themselves and are pushing themselves as far as they can go. I’ve been involved in some trainwrecks myself. They are very unpleasant.

Art is not easy. Art is a delicate balance. A very delicate balance. When one item is off, by even a very slight amount, it affects every other aspect of the work. Sometimes balance is regained. Sometimes not. But if you never find yourself off balance during the creation of a work of art I have a hunch you are not trying hard enough.

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in art, dance, design, opera, theatre | No Comments »

at the end of the tunnel

Monday, February 14th, 2011

During the Passover Seder participants relate the liberation of Jews from Egypt to their own lives. The word for Egypt is Mitzrayyim. While used to refer to the Egypt of Jewish enslavement, Mitzrayyim translates into English as “a narrow or tight place.” During the Seder you examine your life and your own Mitzrayyim and how you have been liberated.

Over the past few weeks we have repeatedly heard the phrase “witness to history” with regards to events in present day Egypt. Since January 25th the common people gathered in Tahrir Square, itself a literal narrow place, in protest of their totalitarian government. This weekend they were delivered from that modern day Pharaoh. How appropriate then that Tahrir translated into English means “Liberation.”

The value of spirituality lies in the ability of metaphor to shed a light on aspects of our lives which are lacking or perhaps, more importantly, on aspects of our life where we lack gratitude. Far and away the situation of most Jews on the planet today is so far removed from the situation dealt with in Exodus as to bear a kinship in name alone. Yet even sixty years ago things did not look so good.

Times change.

The darkness of a tunnel can be foreboding when looking to the side at the imprisoning walls or backwards at the evidence of a long journey. Yet like that narrow place in Egypt it is only temporary. Up ahead shines a light. Outside the tunnel it is a clear and beautiful day.

In 2008 I watched as project after project I had been asked to light lost its funding and either cancelled entirely or reduced from an Off-Broadway to a Showcase contract. Projects fell apart and companies cut seasons. It was not a fun period. By the end of the year I felt brutalized by the economics of theater. Not one year before I was riding high on a fully booked schedule that had me darting back and forth across the country and across the Atlantic. I had no idea what was to come next.

At the end of 2008 I made a rather rash decision. The pretext I used was one of optimism, but the real cause was far from that. My career, it appeared from where I stood, had fallen apart. Time to put down the cards, round up the remaining chips, and go home. There was an air of defeat that I felt which was honestly a quite novel experience for me. Or at least it had been so long it felt new.

Needless to say, the proximate cause of my return to California dissolved in a blaze of glory in rather short order. Add to that a continuing downward trend in the economics of art and things looked bleak. Companies were scaling back on travel expenses. What had made my first year on the West Coast financially viable, the fact that I was for all intents and purposes not working on the West Coast, was now gone. 2010 was going to be rough.

2010, much to my surprise, was far more interesting than I would have first expected.

My friend Mark took over as Artistic Director of a small opera company in the area. We had met a few years before when I was the lighting assistant at SF Opera and he was an assistant director. We had done one show together since that time. As he took over the company he asked if I would light their season. The company was traveling through its own narrow place when Mark took over. The budgets were tightened to the breaking point and they had just lost their long time venue.

Mark found a new venue, twice the size of their last one, and took the reigns of the company directing a new production of Don Giovanni. The show was a hit selling out its brief run and, as if rounding that last corner in a dark tunnel, light began to shine in. I lit three more shows for Mark’s company that year.

The end of the year brought another interesting collaboration. Director Jon Tracy, who had seen my work several times through projects I had done with his fiancee, asked me to light his newest work. The sequel to his, then running, outdoor adaptation of The Iliad. This would be the second chapter, The Odyssey. It was a phenomenal project both on purely artistic merits and for the quality of the collaboration. Of The Earth finished out the year to raving critical success.

While not the best year by economic standards it was quite satisfying creatively.

Finding myself in a bit of a narrow place financially, my deliverance came through creativity. What saved me was, quite literally, the light at the end of the tunnel. A 2K Fresnel perhaps, gelled in L201.

While the financial trials of an American pale next to the struggles of the oppressed to speak freely, they are for each a Mitzrayyim. We can only observe our fellow humans in their tunnels lost in the darkness. It up to each of us, as individuals, to turn our heads away from the past and look up.

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in art, business | 3 Comments »

Artistic Inspiration

Monday, November 8th, 2010

One of the luxuries most artists have, which designers (and other artists for hire) do not have, is the ability to create on their own schedule. Someone who paints, or draws, or sculpts just for the fun of it can take as long as they would like to create something. If a canvas, or a comic book, or a screenplay takes them 25 years to finish, so be it. For a designer, specifically a theatrical designer, we have a hard deadline of opening night. No matter the circumstances in our lives, we have to get up and be creative. We go to work and we make art.

One of the most difficult issues that an artist grapples with is inspiration. Well, inspiration and money, but we’ll focus on the aesthetics for now. For the artist on their own schedule they have the leisure and good fortune to wait until inspiration descends upon them. For the designer or artist-for-hire we must grab inspiration when we need it. Sometimes it is like a hunt, trekking through dense jungles of the subconscious searching, in vain, for that elusive thing called inspiration.

While not every project will be inspired from the depths of one’s soul there are ways of creating inspiration. This may sound odd to those used to waiting for inspiration to strike them, but it can not only be done, but can be done quite effectively.

One of the most direct ways to find inspiration is other artists. Now, if you are designing scenery for Billy Budd perhaps other productions of the opera are not the best route to take as that will often lead to second rate derivative works. But one might look to 18th century paintings of naval vessels for a literal interpretation. Perhaps if you want to echo 20th century political themes, your research might take you to the constructivists.

Personally I find photography to be one of the most resonant mediums for me to find creative inspiration. The work of Richard Misrach is one of my standard go to texts. His formal study of light, using the same exact frame, to capture myriad skies, gives an almost limitless source of inspiration for thinking through a sky drop.

Paul Strand is a favorite for thinking through abstract spaces. His 1915 print Wall Street is a strikingly theatrical look at the real world. Almost operatic in scope, this simple morning scene is transformed through the artist’s rendering of light and shadow. His The White Fence takes another infinitely mundane scene and transforms it into an abstract canvass of great depth and drama. While any reproduction will never do justice to his original platinum print, the frame alone is a powerful thing of beauty.

For more abstracted pieces, I find the work of Man Ray to be singularly useful. His profound humanism, framed within a surrealist approach, brings to life a world of deep and primal emotions. Cindy Sherman provides a very similar frame, though firmly rooted in the world of color.

Several painters I find particularly useful when a color palette just won’t come to me. Marc Chagall’s color sense is almost unparalleled in his ability to convey deep and serious emotions while maintaining an air of play in his works.

Another great source for color is the natural world. While there are any number of computer programs that can pair colors for you that will look good, nothing beats looking at fruit and vegetables. An heirloom tomato, or a banana, or a cucumber, or a honey dew melon, have a perfect color palette ripe for the taking.

Sometimes listening to music can be a powerful inspiration. Other time I just need to get out of my studio and go for a walk through the park, or the cemetery.

When you are feeling uninspired by a project it can be almost painful to get out the drafting pencils and get to work. Spending some time with some great art is never a waste. And it might just be the springboard to a beautiful design.

Tags: , , ,
Posted in design | No Comments »

Live Performance and Special Events

Friday, June 18th, 2010

Most of my work tends to be in the realm of Opera, Dance, and Theater. As such I usually work with variations on three kinds of lights: Lekos, PARs, and Fresnels. These are fine lights and you can do quite a lot with them, but you can not do everything.

I am lighting an event tomorrow that will include ambient lighting of a large courtyard and a dance floor. The lighting is a collaboration between me and a friend of mine veering towards large scale installation. It should be a fun event to work.

Doing special events lighting is a whole different ballgame than working in live performance. In this case, the technology is very different. Here we will be using a lot of LED moving head fixtures and several effects projectors.

Not only is the technology different, but the style of working an event like this is much more on the fly than most of the work I do. At the same time, there are similarities which parallel these two worlds. For a play I might send my drawings off weeks before I have seen a single rehearsal. As such I have to plan out not only everything I intend to do regarding lighting the show, but I have to build in flexibility so that quick changes and alterations can be made in the very limited time available to us in tech. For tomorrow’s event, we met at the shop and talked through what equipment we would place where and combine how and so forth. With a few moments of “Oh let’s turn that on and see what it does.”

The event is at a church with some very nice architecture that should take light beautifully. In addition to lighting several rooms, we will light a large exterior stone wall with various colors and textures. Some of the ideas are about accenting architectural elements, while others are about transforming them. I remember a wedding I lit several years ago at the Brooklyn library. A less than aesthetically pleasing building inside, but quite impressive in scale. I had to transform the space with light in order to bring the qualities of the wedding into that not so romantic room.

Rather than being a carefully drawn out plot, we have a large pile of gear from which to draw. Certain ideas are very clearly formed, and several of the looks have been well thought through. At the same time, the event itself has a DIY ethic which means there could be any number of unexpected additions upon our arrival tomorrow. Because we do not necessarily know what we will be walking into, there has to be a certain amount of flexibility built into the lighting rig.

In some ways this is no different than live performance. I have had countless instances of scenery being built wrong, or me not receiving the final revision drawings, or the FOH positions being drawn in the wrong location on the house paperwork, or some other SNAFU which caused my well laid plans to get tossed to the side.

While there are some difference in terms of how the show or event gets prepped, the underlying skills remain the same. We must create a beautiful work of art that fulfills the project lead’s vision while making split second decisions under high pressure conditions in a very finite span of time.

Our work is not luxurious. We do not have time to sit around and wax poetic (a luxury I give myself in this blog precisely because it does not exist in the work). Rather we have a few seconds in which time to make a decision, see if it works, and change it if necessary. Time is too expensive to spend in anything other than the action of creating a more perfect work.

We are limited by time, and money, and resources, and personnel. The one thing we can not be limited by is creativity.

This is something that spans not only lighting designers, whether you light Opera, or parties, or store windows, but all designers. Our creativity is built around a deadline. We must produce. We have no other option. The doors will open when they are advertised to open. And we don’t have the luxury to not have created a beautiful product.

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in design | No Comments »

Exit through Novelty

Monday, May 24th, 2010

Yesterday I saw the film Exit Through the Gift Shop by street artist Banksy. The film is almost a meta-documentary following the exploits of a man who documented a great deal of street art over the course of several years and then became a street artist himself in the process.

Through the film viewers are given a solid introduction to the world of street art, some of the major players, motifs, and ideas, before the film shifts gears. In the end it becomes a critique of the very notion and meaning of art itself. The absurdity of the commercial artworld, galleries, auction houses, and the like, are shown in stark relief to the gritty working of a piece of art. Appropriately set largely in Los Angeles, the film grapples with notions of originality and authenticity contrasted against celebrity.

An issue that often plagues artists is originality and authenticity. To be anything more significant than mere decoration, art must constantly push its own boundaries and discover new frontiers of aesthetic exploration. As our society becomes increasingly remixed, truly new ideas become harder and harder to find. The duration of the new is ever decreasing as the rate of recouperation into the cultural feedback loop grows faster and faster. The latest fashions hit the racks of discount clothing stores like H&M mere days after debut on runways in Paris, Milan, and New York. Music, painting, photography, performance, all become elements to be remixed upon their release into the cultural data streams due to the near instantaneous rates of communication we have developed.

This fast culture, much like fast food, might satisfy our immediate desires but is not necessarily the healthiest option. Just as the cutting edge of food has taken on slow as its moniker, perhaps culture at large would do well to consider a slower pace. Slow art.

I went to the Whitney Biennial the other day and was radically underwhelmed by the work presented. The biennial, by focusing on contemporary American art, gives a kind of snapshot look at the state of the artworld right now. While I can only assume the camera was in focus, the image it rendered was dull and uninspired. Like the work of Mister Brain Wash in Exit Through the Gift Shop it felt dull, repetitive, uninspired, and derivative. The work felt bored. Not boring, bored. As if there were no suitable subjects left to cover. Or the work had been created without bothering to truly look and find a suitable subject.

There was no sense of a point of view displayed, although there was lots of amazing technique. Don’t get me wrong, there was immense talent. But the talent resided at a craft level only. That deeper level of inspiration was lacking.

Art is first about looking. Before you can make, you must see. You must be able to see the world around you as the unique thing that it is. Then you must see it anew. When you create, you are presenting the world with a window into your particular vision of that world. Duchamp, after Nude Descending a Staircase, taught the world to see differently. He taught us to see both the world in general, and art in particular in a wholly new light. He called the very notion of art, of what can be art, into question.

We can see these kinds of aesthetic ruptures in the flow of creation throughout the history of art. Caravaggio is another game changer. As critic Robert Hughes has said, “there was art before him and art after him, and they were not the same.”

Banksy has garnered international recognition for his work through politicizing an inherently political art form. Graffiti has been around since humanity lived in caves. The first art was public art executed on walls in public space. It is as old as human consciousness itself. In its modern form it rose to prominence in New York in the 1970′s appearing on subway cars and train cars. Despite some critical acclaim it did not truly hit the mainstream until, like many American artforms, it had a white face to champion the medium. Like Elvis turning Blues to Rock and Roll or Shepard Fairey turning Grafiti into street art, the work was finally given an establishment legitimacy it previously lacked.

Banksy radicalized the form by creating deeply political works in highly charged locations like Israel’s West Bank barrier. His own work has called into question the legitimacy of art world standards as far as what qualifies as art by placing his own works inside museums like London’s National Gallery clandestinely.

Every generation of artists asks the same questions. What is art? Why is art? The questions are answered, for better or worse, through the work itself. Some years may be inspired and some dull. The task of the artist is to keep asking the questions and to answer as honestly and authentically as possible. In order to arrive at a truly authentic answer, we must slow down and take the time to look.

Tags: , ,
Posted in art, theory | No Comments »

On Inspiration

Monday, May 10th, 2010

The question of inspiration is one that is central to any creative person. While inspiration might not be thought of in the moment, its lack is one of the most terrifying things to be felt in a creative pursuit. Writer’s block is probably the most commonly heard version of this, but the problem can plague anyone working creatively.

While there is no surefire cure for the problem, there are numerous strategies we can employ to not only prevent it from arising in the first place, but to create a plethora of creativity such that we never approach such a situation. For those of us working on deadlines, like an opening night, we quite literally do not have time to be bogged down with writer’s block. We must simply get to work.

Inspiration can come from any direction and often can hit us by surprise when least looking for it. While we can not ensure that we will be struck by inspiration we can create situations that will increase the chances that we will. In short, we can create our own luck. We may not know what bit of stimulus will spawn a creative flurry, but we can be open to new sources of stimulus, new ideas, new images, new sounds, new people, and new art. Ninety-nine percent of all this will just be enjoyable diversion, but that one percent is invaluable. That one new painting, or new restaurant, or random conversation will spark a creative fire that could not have happened without it.

This kind of luck requires two discrete actions on our part. The first is access to novelty. We must actually experience these things. We must go to the museum, or the movie, or the concert, or the library. This is the easy part. Every day we are exposed to novelty if we are open to seeing it. And that is the second, deeper, and more difficult aspect of this. We must be open to new experiences. We must train ourselves to see things in a new light. Inspiration often comes from seeing the familiar in a new and unique manner. We must take each moment as the new, unique, and novel thing that it is.

I find exposing myself to new art, new music, new people and so forth to be mandatory as an artist. Seeing the old as new, reframing the familiar as the novel, is a powerful exercise to increase novelty in your life and thus increase your luck in discovering the right spark for that next project. Situationists like Guy Debord used techniques like the derive to give new meaning to the familiar environment of their well worn urban streets.

While the SI looks a bit old fashioned from the perspective of the early 21st century, their techniques, or variants on them, can be profoundly powerful. Breaking with routine has an amazing effect on the creative mind. That break in routine can be through something wholly new, or it can come from turning the familiar into the novel.

I find music to be a powerful source of inspiration. While I will certainly listen to a single album, score, or a general genre, one thing I love to do is put my entire music collection on shuffle and hit play. The juxtaposition of a Mozart symphony with minimal techno with gangsta rap presents me with a kind of aural derive drifting between radically different musical styles, causing my mind to reprogram connections as it finds similarities between previously disparate songs.

I remember, years ago, going to a poetry event somewhere in the East Village. There were people reading works, and poems on the walls to be read. There was music, and wine, and shifting lighting. Perhaps a bit more raucous than what many people think of when they think poetry event. But then this is New York. There was a station set up with a typewriter. Guests were encouraged to sit down and write for five minutes. It was timed. When the timer was started, in addition to the lighting and music for the general room, a boom box was played, flashlights were shined on the person, and several books were read aloud right in their ears. The effect of this was to wholly shortcircuit the thinking rational part of the brain and leave only the creative generative part able to function in the sensory barrage. Manufactured Inspiration.

One of the simplest sources of inspiration I find is in living life. Simply being open to experience and aware of one’s surroundings and interactions with others can provide a deep and rich palette upon which to draw. Unfortunately too many people sleepwalk through their interactions in life. With a focus on what could have been or what might be they fail to actually take the time to appreciate what is. Being in the present is where the creative power lives. Cultivating presence of mind is an invaluable exercise to build one’s creative muscles.

The quest for inspiration is eternal. As we move through experiences our perception of different inputs as sources for inspiration will shift and change. It is necessary to be vigilant and create opportunities for inspiration that change with our changing needs.

What inspires you?

Tags: , , ,
Posted in art, theory | No Comments »

Abstract Realism

Friday, May 7th, 2010

There is an assumed dichotomy, when discussing works of art, between abstract pieces and realistic works. Realistic might be substituted for naturalistic, but the basic dichotomy reigns. I have discussed abstract minimalism quite a lot in this space. The counterpoint to abstract minimalism is not realism or naturalism but abstract realism.

Art, by it’s very nature, demands of the creator that choices be made. An object, event, idea, image, plot, and so forth are all framed. The frame might be literal in the sense of a classical painting, or it may be metaphoric through the use of language. In all cases a human experience is reified and placed within a frame. Art is the abstraction of reality.

To understand how fundamental abstraction is to art we should look, not to those considered abstract like Mondrian or Beckett, but to those considered realists like Ibsen or Caravaggio. In understanding the abstraction inherent in naturalistic works, this will lead us to a deeper understanding of and appreciation for those works more traditionally considered abstract. Even photography, by the nature of framing an image, abstracts our experience of reality before we even get to issues of color or focus. Walker Evans, about as naturalistic a photographer as has ever shot a roll of film, is highly abstract. Not so much in what he includes exactly, but with regards to what lies outside the frame. Through his images we have a limited understanding of a particular view of reality. A deep and rich understanding of that piece of the real, but a piece nonetheless.

Ibsen is a fantastic example of linguistic framing. He takes a story and distills it into the formalism of the three act play. Life is abstracted from the glorious non-linear mess that it is into a tight and controlled sequence of events. Act 1, Introduction. We, the audience, are shown the major players, ideas, and themes that will run their course throughout the play. Act 2, Conflict. We see the characters, ideas, and themes evolve and come into conflict. Act 3, Resolution. The conflict comes to an end perhaps through some transformation of the people, ideas, and themes. This may all sound familiar.

Should we choose to abstract this structure further we would do well to look back at Hegel and his dialectic. His thesis, anti-thesis, synthesis follows the same rhythmic pattern as the three act “well made” play. Once we understand that structure we can apply our understanding to any work and see that the distinction between realist and abstract work is a surface distinction at best. Good works that exist as temporal art (music, theater, opera, dance) all share this rhythmic structure. The form may be infinitely varied but the underlying structure is the same.

In the visual realm, rhythmic structure is replaced with proportion. When I looked at minimalism earlier I used Mondrian as an example. His work throughout his career was an exploration of proportion, though the form was multi-varied. Rothko is a painter whose work is focused on proportion almost to the exclusion of anything else.

The rigor needed for minimalism points to the necessary abstraction in any work of art. It is impossible to include everything in a work of art. Reality is the only experience that is not abstract.

Mondrian, or Rothko, are wonderful examples of the formalism of proportion exercises. We can look to Caravaggio, a so called realist, to better understand the formal structure of proportion. At the time he was active, his work was derided for the realistic style he employed, especially with regards to the painting of religious figures. While his realism is indeed impressive, and arguably unparalleled in the history of painting, it is at the more abstracted level that his works take on their true power. His sense of proportion, in terms of color, composition, and contrast, are impeccable.

As close to reality as some of Caravaggio’s works get, they are the product of clear and decisive choices at every level. From general composition, to the finer details of relative value between figures, to the color palette, we are looking at an abstracted space. Foreground and background, or depth of field to return to the world of photography, play a critical role in solidifying a well proportioned image.

Working as a lighting designer for live performance, I am concerned with both the rhythmic structure of the temporal work and issues of proportion. Foreground and background play a critical role, as do relative light and darkness, color, and other issues of contrast. At the same time, I must deal with these issues over time as the stage picture constantly changes. Temporal Rhythmic Proportion is a synthesis of the structures of temporal art and static art. It is the basis of what we do as visual artists for live performance. Navigating the ever shifting compositional needs through time is the primary concern of the lighting designer.

As naturalistic as a work might be, we are moving through an abstracted space bounded by abstracted time. From Beckett to Ibsen we navigate an abstraction of reality. Fundamentally understanding abstract space allows us to do so with full efficacy and powerful results.

Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in design, theory | No Comments »

The Affirmative No

Monday, May 3rd, 2010

I was given two pieces of advice about how to evaluate potential projects when I was in graduate school. Both came from successful designers and with me just starting out figured I would incorporate this advice as best I could. The first piece of advice had to do with criteria for evaluating projects. There are three reasons to do a show; the art, the people, or the money. So long as any two of those three were present, the job was worth taking. The second was much more straightforward, take every job you can since you have no idea where it might lead.

Over time, the criteria I use to evaluate projects has gotten more refined, but in truth, more personal. Increasingly, I find myself drawn to projects that fully meet my creative artistic needs. If I am doing a job just for the money, the money better damn well be worth it. Otherwise the project must support my artistic needs.

In these lean economic times finding work has been much more difficult than it has in years past. As a function of this I was on the path for a while of taking a few projects for which I had no artistic connection because I felt I needed the money. The more I thought of this, the more these projects would bother me. Finally, I realized what it was.

As a freelance designer I do not have the luxury of sitting in my studio and creating wholly out my mind. I do not get to generate the project. Rather, I am asked to do a project and I can either accept it or turn it down. While I learned a lot during my years of saying “yes” to everything, I am increasingly learning the value of “No.” This is not the No of negation. Rather this No is an affirmation of the aesthetic viewpoint I want to propagate in the world.

By saying No to projects that I do not wholly believe in I am saying Yes to the projects that I truly want to work on. The more I do this the more I find it has less to do with the specific pieces themselves as it does the people involved and the final product being created. In short, I have discovered that there are only two reasons for taking a project, the People and the Art. Follow those two things and the money will take care of itself.

There are a hand full of directors who I will work with at the drop of a hat and without hesitation because I believe in the work they do. One of these, a long time friend, has a very different aesthetic than I do when it comes to lighting. The process can often be quite a struggle for me as I overcome my own ways of seeing to get behind his eyes. Nonetheless, I believe in his work and larger vision strongly enough that this has sufficient artistic merit for me to take the project.

Working for the money, all you have to fall back on when things get difficult is the thought of that paycheck. Working for the Art and for the People keeps in clear view that what you are working for is something larger than yourself. It is, in fact, bigger than everyone involved.

As Moss Hart has famously said: “I have had many successes and many failures in my life. My successes have always been for different reasons, but my failures have always been for the same reason: I said yes when I meant no.”

Tags: , , ,
Posted in business | 1 Comment »

Honesty, Trust, and Art

Friday, April 23rd, 2010

There is a lot of confusion over the difference between a healthy ego and a big ego. A healthy ego is one that is sure and confident of its ability and efficacy. It knows itself and its limitations. It is based in and on reality and facts. It knows its worth implicitly. A large ego is often very boisterous. It needs to be heard and to be seen. It must prove its worth to the outside world because it does not have its own sense of worth internally and must be constantly validated by the external world either through actions or through outright demands for visible signs of validation, “love”, and support.

The arts are filled with big egos. We find countless examples of people whose self worth is based wholly on their ability to create works and receive credit for it. When praise and attention is lavished upon them they are filled with smiles, appear gracious, and look confident. When praise and adoration is not forthcoming they wilt, or lash out in anger, or throw tantrums. Sadly, we have all seen this.

While it is unfortunate, it is a regular part of the artistic landscape. There are large egos that are merely big inflated things and there are large egos that are robust and healthy. Too often, because of the former, it can be quite difficult to get honest feedback from friends and collaborators. Too often we have seen a friend or collaborator visibly wilt at the slightest hint of negative criticism. Certainly there is a time and a place for decorum. You don’t mention the late entrance at the opening night reception. But there must be room for honest critique or we fail to grow as artists. If we don’t grow the work suffers.

Different artistic communities treat critique in different ways. I have been involved in collaborations where we would call one another out as soon as something felt false. These were very honest and direct collaborations. Sometimes we would get into serious arguments. Rather then being an inflated unhealthy ego lashing out, this was the impassioned discourse of artists striving for the best work we could make. In the end, the work was vibrant and strong.

I have also worked in situations, quite a few recently, where the criticism and concern was so timid and understated that I did not often recognize it as such. It would be as if my collaborators were so scared of puncturing that inflated ego they would dance around a concern or just let it slide entirely. This baffles me, “Well if you didn’t like the light cue, why didn’t you say something?”

If a director or fellow designer has a concern about the viability of the work it is deeply important to raise that concern as early as it arrives and in as direct a manner as possible. One member of the collaboration holding back their critique weakens the collaborative bond between the artists.

Collaborative art requires trust. We must trust that every one of our collaborators has, as their intent and focus, the best interest of the piece at heart. If we lose that trust we can never make a work of true and lasting beauty. As Picasso said, “Art is not truth.  Art is a lie that makes us realize truth.” But to construct that lie so that it may point us to the truth, to make art, we must be honest. We must be honest with one another. Honesty, after all, is the foundation of trust.

When one of our collaborators is not forthright in their concerns, reservations, or praise, our trust lessens. If we do something that we know does not look good and hear from them “that’s great” then our trust in their taste is diminished. We know it did not look good. We can only assume that any praise they might have is qualified by a desire to not ruffle any feathers or threaten any inflated egos.

Unjustified praise can be more damaging than unjustified criticism. Praise without justification can stunt growth or push it in less than useful directions. We are always limited by time and must fix all the broken parts before time runs out. If we are told something is fixed when it is not then we stop looking at it in order to focus on the many other pressing concerns. We work to fix the other parts. Those parts then do not truly come together because of the loose end we left with the first unfinished part.

To create truly powerful work we must be unflinching in our honesty. We must give, and be able to receive, honest feedback about the work. To do this our egos may or may not be large, but they must be healthy. When we can honestly accept and receive feedback we can truly trust one another as collaborative artists. When we trust each other, then art can begin.

Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in theory | No Comments »

« Older Entries
Creative Commons License

All text on this site, unless otherwise noted, is licensed under a Creative Commons License. All other rights reserved.