Batfort

Style reveals substance

Tag: art (page 1 of 2)

The Reader: Funding the future of research and sushi for cats

Meghan Caughill

New year…same ol’ me. Have you ever felt that making a big change to your lifestyle—like moving or getting a dramatic new hairstyle—will also change you on the inside? I’ve been guilty of that for many years. Surely THIS TIME I’ll get my new apartment decorated and keep it in impeccable shape. It never comes to pass. I keep repeating patterns of thought and behavior, so of course the past repeats itself! I hadn’t yet done the work to change.

I have high hopes for 2019, but so far I’ve been lying low. I’m avoiding the work—the early stages are always so painful. But like sore muscles after the gym, you (and I) have to work through the discomfort to get somewhere worth going. I have muscles now, after going through the gym. What will I have after going to art gym for 6 months? Let’s find out.


» How gorgeous are these cyanotype notebooks???

» Michigan State is a bellwether for things to come in academia. Universities are full of people who like to avoid responsibility and making difficult decisions. Structurally, the fiefdom model (only each discipline has the authority to oversee itself) provides lots of room for shady things to develop. Combined with the cult-like devotion that most universities foster, any misdeeds open a powder keg of bad emotions.

For colleges and universities, tragedies of this scale more commonly take the form of fatal accidents or mass shootings. In such cases, campus communities tend to pull together rather than split apart. The failure of a leader as a moral actor, however, elicits a different kind of grieving. This is an angry grief, a confusing sorrow that tempers enthusiasm for the institution with a kind of quiet shame. It is a phenomenon that finds its singular historic parallel at Pennsylvania State University, where top administrators were criminally charged with covering up the crimes of a serial sexual predator.

As at Penn State, where Graham B. Spanier served for 16 years as president before he was fired and later convicted of endangering the welfare of children, Michigan State struggles to come to grips with what the Simon era means now. Her prosecution brings that struggle to the fore in ways that her long-serving colleagues had not fully anticipated, opening a dam of emotion and ambivalence.

» Ignore all the art-school-ese and this is some pretty cool internet-based art.

» You reap what you sow: “My daughter asked me to stop writing about motherhood. Here’s why I can’t do that.” Check the comments; they’ll say everything that you’re thinking and more.

» Investigators are starting to root out the infiltrators of the alt-right (aka the ones designed to make the alt-right look and act more extreme than they really are)

» I’m not a fan of any type of feminism but this article makes some very good points: “This is everything wrong with mainstream feminism

» That isn’t to say that I don’t love women. Many women are doing cool and interesting things, like Riva-Melissa Tez. I like her ideas about funding research, and that she’s actually doing something about it.

We really need to improve incentive structures between groups. How can we give other people access to fundamental research? When you read academic papers, researchers are incentivized to keep private the exact details that would explain the breakthrough. I’m opposed to people being private about discovery, even though I understand it would be suicide to do the opposite. I love today’s emphasis on being open source, but we need more incentives for following through. Right now, you need to be altruistic or charitable to be open source. There is no cost benefit. We don’t live in a world where individuals get rewarded for contributing to society. Instead, the message is, contribute to your own thing and you’ll be rewarded for it. Then use that money to contribute to society. That process is too slow in my mind.

» “Gen Z Is Forgoing College To Attend Trade Schools

» If you’ve ever wondered why the world is a hall of mirrors, this article will help explain why. (Please note that I do not endorse all of the theology. The bit on mimetics is great, tho.)


 

I never understood Goya until

Three years ago, I saw death close-up for the first time. My grandmother, after a long and full life, died at home surrounded by family. I can still remember how viscerally the sound of death lingered around her breaths that day.

After that, for the first time, Francisco Goya’s painting Saturn Devouring His Son was no longer creepy or unsettling to me.

I thought of it that night, alone, in bed, even though I hadn’t seen or thought about the painting in years.

Somehow, it made sense.

 

I still don’t like looking at this painting—it’s not pleasurable to look at—but it’s no longer alien. I feel like I can speak somewhat of the language of the artist, the inchoate expression that he was putting into form. (Pardon the art-school language.)

I’d prefer not to post this image on my site. I’d prefer not to look at the body of my grandfather, who died this week. There are a lot of things that I’d prefer not to do, but that life dictates otherwise.

That is why I believe in art.

It’s crazy to me how much art can help make sense of the world, and how some art doesn’t make any sense until you need it.

There is art that is bullshit, but then there is art that communicates something so deeply that it bypasses words and goes straight for the heart.

This is the art we need.

I want to live in a Gustav Klimt painting

 

I want to weave his lush and vibrant colors into a cloak that is warm and velvety as the night, and hide under it forever.

 

I want to crawl into the dappled depths of texture that he renders onto the canvas so like a living, breathing tree.

 

Most people know Klimt for his ladies. His ladies are pretty great. They exude power and femininity and sensuality. I kinda want to be this lady, TBH.


 

But Klimt’s landscapes are out-of-this-world.

 

I want to count every blade of grass, every flower, every leaf. I want to burrow myself into the texture until every fiber of my being screams at me to come up for air.

 

I want to run into the depths of his forests and never look back. To hide myself in the shadows.

And even his gardens…

(Ah, but I want to inhale this into myself, make it part of my Being.)

…even his gardens look like his women.

 

Needlepoint is meditation AND instant gratification

I’ve gotten back into needlepoint lately. Counted cross-stitch, to be precise.

It’s great on multiple levels.

Creativity

Even using a pre-planned design, working on a needlepoint project involves creating something that has never existed in the universe before. There is something primally satisfying about the act of creation.

This time around, I’m developing the design myself. I have an idea, and I’m planning out sections as I go. I picked the colors that I wanted (shades of coral and moss green, my favorites, with a tiny glimmer of yellow). Some of the specific patterns and fonts I’m stealing from other sources, but the overall plan is mine. I’m greatly enjoying the anticipation of seeing the execution of a design I’ve conceived.

Problem-Solving

Needlepoint projects are a mini-lesson in logistics. Do I start from the right or from the left? Do I do one stitch at a time, or go through the row one way and then back the other way? Letters first, or decorations? So many questions to answer.

I’m not a needlepoint expert, so I can’t give you answers to those questions.

But I can tell you that working on a project like this is a tiny way to stretch your brain in the arena of planning and execution. You know where you want the project to end up, and then you have to make all of the medium- and ground-level decisions to get to that end point.

Most needlepoint projects can’t be done in one sitting, so it’s also an object-lesson on working on a project bit by bit until it’s finished.

You can take this knowledge and extrapolate it to other areas of life.

Instant Gratification

While it sounds like the complete opposite of the long-term benefits, the thing that I like the most about needlepoint is the instant gratification. Every stitch that you finish is there, stitched into the fabric, for you to admire. That stitch, and all the stitches surrounding it, have changed the texture of the fabric forever. You can feel the difference if you run your finger across the stitches.

And that happens every single time you work on the project.

With other types of long-term projects, you don’t always get the satisfaction of a job well done until the very end. Cooking can be like that, and definitely event planning is like that. But with needlepoint, there are pretty things to look at (even if it’s just the colors!) at every step on the way.

Meditation

I like the idea of meditation, but I’m not huge on the traditional practice of it. Experience has shown me that it’s valuable to stop thinking (in words) for a period of time, but I feel that it’s more important to shift the mode of thinking than it is to stop thinking altogether.

When I take a ballet class, I can’t focus on anything else. When I play music or focus on a drawing, my thinking shifts into those ways of thinking and all my verbal worries evaporate.

Same thing with needlepoint.

When you’re focused on creation, you’re not focused on yourself or what’s wrong with the world. Better for all involved.

In Conclusion

Consider trying out needlepoint. It’s fun, satisfying, and therapeutic.

Craftsmanship Squared

 

A beautifully produced video of a beautifully produced garment.

A reminder that this is what we can get to if we put in the work.

That beauty is transcendent, and we have the power to make it.

The capacity for beauty lies within us.

Sweep away the chaff and allow it to shine.

 


*Complete sentences are for days that are not Saturday.

A metric: the Creative Achievement Questionnaire

I’ve been listening to Jordan B Peterson lectures on YouTube again. (Always super motivating and super depressing at the same time. Reality has a way of doing that to you.)

One of the hardest things to learn about creativity (and anything, really), is that potential means nothing. What matters is what you produce; your body of work.

For those of us just starting out on our creative journeys, it’s important to define what success means and cobble together some metrics to judge whether or not we’re heading in the right direction.

JBP and Shelly Carson created the Creative Achievement Questionnaire to test creative production (not merely creative potential!), and it turns out that it could make a perfect objective measure for achievement in creative pursuits.

My score is 11, which places me at the top end of the Novice Creative category. Mostly of those achievements happened in during my teenage years; I neglected to cultivate my creative talents in university and afterward. There are a couple of scores I could fudge to push myself into the Maker category, but that’s edging into “lying to myself” territory.

Now, as far as using this as a metric: looking over the scoring system shows that each creative domain is scored in a logarithmic scale of difficulty. It will take an immense amount of work to bump up my total score even 1 point, let alone a whole category. However, 1 more point will push me over into Maker–which I could make happen by next year.

If I really double down, I could push myself into the Creative category. I’ll have to formulate some concrete systems and goals to make that happen.

But! We now have a measure for creative output. Let us watch The Gap again and put it to good use.

Read on for the full questionnaire with my scores.

Continue reading

I’d rather be…

I don’t smoke, but I’d rather be doing this than what I’m doing today.

Love this drawing by Ginger Haze.

Normally I hate Lord of the Rings alternative universe reimaginings, but this one seems both faithful to the book and imaginative (rather than full of gratuitous fanservice).

Anyway, today is the day I get paid to pretend to be an extrovert for 24-hours straight.

I’m going to pretend that I’m Galadriel instead.

4 artists, 1 tree

[Trigger warning: Disney]

Back in the days when Disney wasn’t (as) evil, they produced this video about artists working production of Sleeping Beauty. It covers just as much about the nature of art as it does about the nature of teamwork on such a big project.

There are so many things to say about this piece.

Often there’s this perception that as an artist you must always have your own voice and always strike out on your own trail. Obviously this is a propaganda piece from Disney (it’s as much of an job advertisement than anything — yo, young guys who might be interested in art, it’s okay you can keep your identity and we want you to be the best artist you can possibly be but also Disney is a really great place to work join the army), but it’s important to think about artists working on such a huge project as a hand-animated movie. Every artists, from the character designers to the background artists, has to subsume his own personal style and quirks to the greater whole. The animation style has to be reproducible by all of the artists, not just one guy, so nobody gets a monopoly on design.

At the same time, there’s the sense of camaraderie, of people pulling together to work on something that’s bigger than each of them. I’m reminded of artisans working on cathedrals, or the reasons people give when they join the army. Walt Disney’s narration takes a similar view: “This entire operation puts one in mind of a symphony orchestra, where men who are good enough to be soloists in their own right are thinking only of the effect they are producing on the whole.”

While the movie is a visually stunning and cohesive end product, there’s the vast differences between each man’s individual styles. Some of the end products are very 50s looking, but that’s okay. You have the architectural/structure guy, the 3D/form guy, the personality guy, and the detail guy. You can see their strengths in the individual art they produce, and can see how those strengths would be of benefit when they all combined as a group.

Marc Davis

Character Animator (refining the ideal character in motion)
Tree as explosion of force – reorganized into its most decorative aspect

 

Eyvind Earle

Production Designer
Tree as a microcosm of the richness and variety of nature
“Portrait of a trunk”

 

Josh Meador

Supervising Effects Animator (magic fairy dust)
Tree as a living thing, full of personality

 

Walt Peregoy

Background Artist
Tree as engineering, structure

Personally, I find it fitting that they’re working on Sleeping Beauty, which I find to be the most beautiful of all animated Disney movies. The backgrounds (especially the animated backgrounds!) are one of my very favorite things, and the “dueling fairy dust” scene is one that I can distinctly remember watching as a child. Since there are no coincidences, of the four artworks produced in the making of this film, I favored the study of the tree trunk painted by the background scenery artist.

On a technical note, I appreciate how the script was written to both give the reader a sense of conversation, but also to explicate and narrate each artist’s focus and process. The end result does sound hokey (because it’s neither natural conversation nor a polished voiceover) but despite that it kept me engaged. Kind of a peek behind the curtain of how everyone worked together as a team, with complementary thought patterns in addition to art styles.

This is the best kind of “behind the scenes” production. It gives insight into the process of making the movie, highlights some of the people who do the work, and allows Disney to explain some of their philosophy of art. Plus, it’s interesting to watch.

The gap between head and hand

It’s relatively easy to recognize good art (or writing or music or whatever).

Some people have terrible taste, but most of us do alright.

It’s also relatively easy to conceptualize the act of drawing in our heads.

Or even watch it on a YouTube video — Draw with me! — when someone else’s rendering looks so easy.

So you go to take the leap and try it for yourself. You grab a sketchpad, and a pencil, and say “Self, today we’re going to draw X.”

(Congratulations for taking that leap, btw.)

Despite what your brain knows to be true, despite all the time you’ve spent looking at reality and at artful depictions of it, what comes out on the other end of your pencil is trash.

Your eyeball neurons don’t know how to connect with your finger neurons. Your fingers don’t know how to hold the pencil. You try to see what is in front of you, but you cannot recreate it.

There is a gap.

When you are a child, it’s easier to see past it. Maybe you don’t even know that it exists, because you haven’t yet had the chance to take in great works of art. So you practice, and you improve, but you never cringe at yourself.

As an adult, you know full well what you’re producing is garbage.

Maybe you want to stop, in shame, thinking that you should be better — even though there’s no way you could be better, having never drawn X before.

There’s now a conceptual gap, not just a behavioral one: you versus what you think you should be. Nevermind that your conception of yourself is unrealistic.

The hardest part is knowing that it is impossible to jump or bridge or maneuver around the gap. The only way across is through — through all the garbage and the shame and the unknown.

I started drawing again this past week, after a very long time of not drawing. I did a practice sketch this evening.

Guess what? It was garbage.

Nobody wants to look at garbage, especially myself.

But it’s the first step into the gap. Someday, with effort and persistence, I’ll get to the other side.

Maybe then my drawings will be worth looking at.

In the meantime, I’m going to watch THE GAP on repeat.

Modern Renaissance

Every once in a while, you come across regular images that evoke an artistic spirit. These aren’t images where the photographer was trying to create “ART,” but simple photos that are nonetheless striking and aesthetically coherent.

One such photo was posted by the Portland Police’s East Precinct a few days ago. Officers were deployed to a Domino’s Pizza to stop drunk customers from fighting with the pizza people (who in their right mind would mess with the pizza people?), and someone snapped a pic.

The Domino’s, lonely in the night but lit from within like its trying to withstand the darkness, reminds me of an Edward Hopper painting. The saturated colors, the well-lit windows, the strategically placed figures and barely-lit cars in the parking lot, all evoke that lonely, desolate mood–that 2:00 am mood.

Sometimes I think of art as being completely fabricated by the artist, but this goes to show that good art–the kind of art that resonates–reflects reality. And the 2:00 am desolation is common across time periods.

Good composition is also common across time periods, and Antifa graciously arranged themselves into the golden ratio for this photo. David Burge remarked on Twitter about this “Renaissance painting of stupid,” and indeed, it is.

Don’t believe it?

Indeed, all the horrific things that Antifa throws, swings, drop-kicks, hurls, and spits wold not be out of place in a Bosch painting of hell. Modern hell, but instead of cracked out Medieval fever dreams, we have cracked out Postmodern feral rioters.

So thank you, Twitizens, for showing us that art can occur in the strangest of places, even among people who are actively destroying beautiful pieces of craftsmanship across the country. Say what you will about the Confederate statues, but most of them are beautifully rendered.

Perhaps someday we will have a grandiose statue or three commemorating the Battle(s) of Berkeley and the rout of Antifa.

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