Wonder Women :: Art & Technology

Part One:
My stress level was for once not that high on Tuesday. I didnt' have much homework to do that night, and it was a beautiful day outside, so I was in a pretty good mood. I usually judge how stressed I am based on how much school work I have, so I noticed that since I was caught up with school, I was getting stressed about other things, but I wasn't stressed about anything too serious. For being at the end of the semester, I think I had my stress level under control, far more so than at the beginning of the semester.
I went to this little plaza area for the hour we had before the presentation, and found out there's a sun dial in the middle of it. I thought this was pretty amazing because I've walked by this plaza a lot, but I never would've guessed that there was an actual sun dial in the middle of it. I layed down in the grass, which was still a little damp from all the rain, and enjoyed the sunshine. It was a very relaxing experience.
My first experience of the installation was that we were only supposed to look at it, not touch it. Then, I finally gained the courage to go inside of the installation and experience it. Once I realized that it was designed to lower your stress level, I thought it would be more successful if the space was completely closed off. There's just something stressful about trying to relax while other people are passing by, looking in on you.
Part 2:
I would evaluate the Present Moment Project as a very dynamic piece of art, because I think it's one that's open to change and suggestions. Instead of saying this is how it is and how it's going to be, the creators of the project seemed very open to hearing people's opinions and suggestions on improvement. Also, I think this project deserves a little more of an explanation than it received. From the current set up, it's just a white, cut off section of a room, something a lot of people may not immediately associate with a stress relieving sanctuary. I think a brief introduction or description is needed to bring people to the comfort level, where they're going to want to try it.
The Present Moment Project, to me, is art because it's manipulating a space to create something beautiful and with meaning. Just like decorating a room can be a form of art, creating a space for stress relief is a work of art, just a unique medium. Art isn't just a painting on the wall, sometimes it is the wall.
I honestly think that keeping kids inside all day during a beautiful day (especially when it's been such a cold winter) is especially cruel, so I would fight for teachers having to hold one day outside of the classroom (depending on the size of the class) College students are so stresed out that sometimes, we really do forget to stop and smell the roses. So maybe a Present Moment Project set up outside would be a good idea for this campus. Not only is it getting kids to slow down while being outdoors to enjoy themselves, but it also gives them some grounds on which to reflect about their stress. Otherwise, I really like the idea of adding water to any installation for the Present Moment Project; there's just something so calming and serence about moving water.

Posted by fjest003 at 05:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I wasn't in class on Tuesday, so my reflection will most likely differ from the context in which everyone else reflected.

My experience with stress is probably like any other college student who's trying to juggle school, work and having a life. This time in the semester is one of the most stressful times with school winding down. I will admit to getting stressed out easily. This is something I'd like to change about myself, because I think that stress about important things is intensified when I stress about the little things.

I think that people, including myself, don't take enough time to just sit and relax in a calming area. I know I don't, because I don't feel like I have the time and I know that if I were to do this on a daily basis (even for only 10min or so) I would spend the time worrying about all of the things I have to do. I think this is a result of being born and raised in a very high-paced society. Everyone is always in a rush, and I think that this pushes me to stress out more. I worry about not getting things done in time. I've even had nightmares about a project not getting done, or being late to a class.

This entry may make me sound crazy, but ironically I'm not bothered by being stressed. There's always that chunk of time where I'm worried and upset, but once I get past that, I'm very productive. And for me, nothing beats the feeling one feels when they're finished with a big project.

Posted by matth120 at 03:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Part 1:

My level of stress Tuesday afternoon was high for a number of reasons. In general, Tuesdays are long days for me in terms of class, but there was some added stress due to dress rehearsals for the show performed in this past weekend. I definitely felt my self go into shut down mode, which occurs when I have a lot of things going on. I feel so burdened with things that need to get done that I sort of stop and watch TV instead. My state of being has been in stress mode all semester, and this is the time when it really starts to peak. I feel like I’ve really been doing to much this semester in terms of theatre, and my paper writing commitments have really been procrastinated. Stress and procrastination go hand in hand for me, and I’m really hitting the wall where I have to use the pressure of that stress to get it into gear and get my work done. This is the time of year that will make or break your grades because the bulk of what your graded on occurs in this last stretch. For me, I won’t be able to think about anything else until its over.
During the hour before the presentation I spent some time just sitting in the lounge at Nolte and journaling about my thoughts on stress and space. One of the things I wrote down about the lounge:
“A comfortable place to do work—and doing work is key right now because every space I’m in gets evaluated on the bases of whether it will hinder or help my ability to get work done.”
After jotting down some notes, I decided to go outside and walk to Northrop Mall. I particularly like the mall space on warm days because it is simply nice to see so many people outside lying in the grass or playing Frisbee. I sat down at one of the tables in front of Northrop Auditorium and continued to write about stress. I often feel guilty about enjoying the outdoors like that because I feel like I should be doing something else. And there are always other things I should be doing.
This nagging thought is always in my mind, so while I enjoyed the instillation, I still felt that the brief pause it provided for me from the outside world was all too fleeting. I certainly felt relaxed in the space, and I allowed my vision to blur as I picked up an especially circular stone and held it in my hand. I only wish I new how to carry that feeling into the world and still harness the motivation to get my work done. As of now, I use the high levels of stress as a motivating tool to get through the end of semester crunch time, and I don’t think that that is the best way to get things done in life.

Part 2:

If I were a student representative for an arts committee on campus, my evaluation of the Present Moment Project would be that the space created by the instillation is something that every student should take a moment to experience. It is, at the very least, a nice respite from everything else going on in the world. It is a space where a person can just sit and breath for a few moments with a blank mind. The rocks in the space ground the senses with the sound as one walks on them, the simple gray color with the soft blue lighting beneath them, and the wonderful feeling on picking them up and hold them in the palm of ones hand. I would say that the Present Moment Project is experiential art. Unlike some art, there is no statement being made or a hidden meaning of any kind. Instead it is art that purely engages the senses for the relief of the beholder. Art of this kind is meant to evoke something within the spectator, which I think is the point of any creation. What is unique about this piece though, is that it was created for the spectator and with their best interests in mind. I like art that aims at a greater good, and the aim of this one to reduce stress is very noble.
If I were to propose a project that addresses stress in student life, I think I would focus on creating a program or event that goes beyond providing momentary relief by teaching students, if it’s possible, to devise ways of reducing stress in the same moment as getting their work done. I think deadlines are a source of major anxiety for all of us on campus, students and teachers alike, and it would be wonderful to find a creative way to empower individuals so that they may reduce stress even during times when it may be quite high. I have no idea what form that might take, possibly a workshop of some kind where participants create an pocket size kit or object that helps them focus and relax without being a distraction.

Posted by remu0019 at 01:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Part 1

My stress level on Tuesday was low. I think that the weather played a big part in that -- when it's nice outside I tend to be in a better mood and dwell less on stressors.

I'm rarely stressed. I know, I know, you all must be thinking that I'm some sort of a freak or something, but I honestly don't feel stressed very often. Some of my friends get weirded out by it -- some of them have said to me in the past they wish I would complain about an upcoming test or paper once in awhile. If they're stressed they like to talk about it. I don't. I attribute my lack of stress to both my good time-managing skills and my relaxed personality.

For the hour before the presentation I made several stops. First, I went to that arc thing (very scientific name) on Lily Plaza and listened to my voice sound weird. I know that it has something to do with physics but I can't remember what it's called. Side note: there's a much bigger arc like that between Ferguson and Anderson halls on the West Bank, although that one is much more humorous because people standing down there always feel compelled to shout and scream at the top of their lungs, causing a good laugh for passers-by. Then I went to Starbucks (have to get rid of that FlexDine!) Tasty drinks relax me. And then I sat in the sun with Miranda on Northrop Plaza and we talked about stress and other things. Sometimes if you're stressed it's good to talk it out. I'm not advocating complainging, just talking.

I liked the installation in Nolte, but it didn't do much to calm me. When I need to destress I want to be alone. In my room. Door shut. No one else. So this project space was a little too open for me; I didn't like the idea that it was so open and other people could watch you. The stones on the ground were soothing--nature tends to sooth me. And I also liked the blue light in the floor; it added kind of a "magical" quality to the space. But overall, I probably wouldn't go there to unwind.

Part 2

I would say that it's a great start, but like the presenters noted in the presentation, the space doesn't work for everyone. Everyone deals with stress in different ways, so if that particular installation doesn't work for you maybe one of the future ones will.

The project has to do with art because it's essentially an art installation, except the key point here is that the viewer can interact with it, shifting his or her role from viewer to user. I love that you're actually allowed to touch it, to interact with it. It brings the museum out of art and puts it into the real world.

I like the idea of the Present Moment Project, but if I were to propose a program to address stress on campus I would propose one that targets stress at its roots, kind of like the commercials for that certain medicine that claim to "stop heartburn before it starts." What I mean by that is I would want to create a program to deal with stress prevention and not just stress relief. The program might include talks about how to budget time, organize, deal with personal relationships, works with finances, or any one of the other issues that cause people to stress. The Present Moment Project is great if you already are stressed and need to relax, but it doesn't address the causes of stress. I'm not saying that it should--it has its specific purpose and fulfills that purpose well--but my proposed program would be more proactive.

Posted by teich024 at 12:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

1) My stress level on Tuesday was very low, especially compared to the rest of the semester. Much of my stress was coming from the knowledge that I had to complete my honor’s thesis before the end of the semester and I wasn’t sure that I had managed my time well enough to do that. But since I turned in my final draft of it the Friday before, I felt like the worst was behind me and I could just relax for the rest of the semester. Add to that the nice weather last Tuesday, and I was feeling pretty good.

For the hour before the presentation, Michelle and Kelsey and I went over to the little amphitheater nearby and laid on the grass and talked and enjoyed the sunshine. It was very quiet there, and very relaxing. That hour went by quickly.

My experience of the installation in Nolte was fairly brief; I didn’t sit down there, I just walked inside and stood there for a little while. My immediate thought was that I wanted to play with the rocks, which after listening to the presentation it seems was a common response. I felt a little bit wobbly walking over the rocks, but I didn’t want to sit down because I didn’t like the fact that people would be able to see me sitting there if they happened to walk past. I wanted to be able to enclose myself in the space and not have that connection to the rest of the room be so strong.

2) I think the Present Moment project is really great. It’s true that just about everyone on a college campus is stressed out all the time, and just about no one feels they have time to devote to classes on stress reduction. Especially in the winter when people can’t go outside, I think it’s very important to have these sorts of spaces to keep people from going crazy. I would be all for having one of these spaces in every building on campus, and I’m disappointed that I will be leaving the U before the completion of this project because I think it would have had a really positive effect on my experience here.

The Present Moment project has to do with art in that it takes scientific ideas and data on how to reduce stress and responds to that data aesthetically, creating something that can exist either as a sculptural object that sparks ideas from afar or as an interactive space that provides each person with a different experience.

I think if I were to attempt something to address stress on campus I would want to organize an open discussion between students and faculty members about the issue—I think that there are a lot of things that instructors can do to help ease the stress of students and themselves, like offering a choice of deadlines for projects. This way students can schedule major assignments during lulls in work for their other classes, plus it spreads out the grading for instructors. Leading an optional mini yoga/meditation session during breaks in long classes might be helpful too.

Posted by lips0037 at 11:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Part 1:
On Tuesday, I had a lot on my plate: a soul-searching paper that wasn't writing itself, my Bible study's final meeting that I hadn't prepared for, a farewell letter and gift for our study leader, a dirty apartment that would soon be swarmed by a wonderful group of girls--in short, I had a lot to do. I gauged my stress level as a six.

However, the semester as a whole has been about a two: only one class pertains to my major, the rest are fun (like this class :D) or easy, and I only have fifteen credits. It's been less stressful than prior semesters to the point where I worry because I'm not stressed (can you tell I'm a type-A honors kid?!).

Before the presentation, I sat with Lisa and Kelsey (I just realized that we don't use names much in this class, so hopefully I remembered correctly) on the grass behind Rapson where there's like an inverted hill with stairs (I realize that's not a great description...) and just talked and enjoyed the sun and the air and the grass. It was really nice to forget about the day and just relax OUTSIDE.

I felt like an intruder in the installation; I wasn't sure if it was okay to walk inside, and I never would have thought to sit down or play with the rocks. I really did appreciate the sounds of the rocks under my feet, though--very soothing. The lights were really great too; I can't pinpoint why I liked them, but I really did. However, I did find myself wanting more privacy. Overall though, it was pretty exciting to step into this altered space; it was like a mini-adventure that showed up randomly on campus.

Part 2:
I would say that the Present Moment Project is an excellent two-fer: it provides a means of expression and research for University faculty as well as a relaxing moment for anyone who partakes in it. On top of that, it allows for dialogue between the two groups where there otherwise not have been any; admittedly, if I were not in this class I would have little interaction with the "artsy side of campus life," but this project may have been a way for me to approach the art world more readily.

I think that that is also how I see this installation as related to art: it is a created thing that allows for communication. This may be an extremely broad, encompassing definition, but it works for me.

Even though I didn't think of it myself, I think that the Present Movement Project would be a good project to address stress on campus. It would be nice to have several different installations with different variations so that you could create a space better suited to people who wanted more privacy, people who wanted sound, people who wanted something to do with their hands, etc. If there were more installations, people would probably talk about it more to compare notes. Maybe if we talked more about stress and de-stressing...we would de-stress more?

Posted by hurl0063 at 06:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Keeping in mind your reflective time from the first part of our seminar
class on Tuesday and the presentation during the second half, would you
make a post on our blog reflecting on the following:

Part 1:

Describe:

- how you assessed your stress level on Tuesday afternoon.

- how you compared your state of being - stressed or not - within the
continuum of your experience of stress during this semester to date.

- what you chose to do for the hour prior to the presentation.

- your experienece of the installation in Nolte.

Part 2:

If you were a student representative participating in an arts committee on
campus, how would you evaluate the Present Moment Project?

What, from your perspective, does the Present Moment Project have to do
with Art?

If you were asked to propose a project, program or event to address stress
on campus, what would you propose?

You may address these questions in any manner that suits you.

Posted by Diane Willow at 10:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Part 1:
My stress level on Tuesday afternoon was about average - lots of projects, papers and exams coming up in addition to non-school stuff running through my head all day like figuring out summer plans for housing/jobs and preparing to host friends...not surprised I had come down with a bad cold over the weekend.
This is about the level of stress I feel most of my time and I think I’m so used to it now that I don’t even really consider it stress anymore – I pretty much just accept that this is what college life is like. The only times I’m not thinking about these things would probably be over long breaks from school like winter break, spring break, or weekends when I’ve planned far enough ahead to get everything else done that I feel I need to prior to it. I know final exams are usually considered a high stress time for students, but I think it’s approaching so quickly I don’t really even have time to think about it, but I do wish I had more down time to enjoy my last weeks here before school ends.
For the hour prior to the presentation I went to stand on the special sound point in Lily Plaza; which was very cool and something I hope to share with other people when I walk by it. Then I walked with Nick to Starbucks at the Cube because I think drinking coffee/tea beverages is relaxing and one of my favorite ways to avoid doing school work and spend time with friends. Fortunately it was a beautiful day and we walked back to Northrop to sit outside at the tables. Campus is much more lively and a happier place to be when the weather is nice and other people are outside. I felt much more calm after my free hour and didn’t really think it was worth being stressed out about other things when it was so nice out – although I admit we talked about future plans and summer jobs even during our free time.
At first I wasn’t even aware of the installation at Nolte…I think I walked right by it the first couple of times I entered and exited the room. I probably would have missed it unless I knew I had to find it because I really only think about where I need to be and not always what else is around me. I really liked the blue light showing underneath the rocks, I thought that was one of its strong points because it made it soothing and not just a pile of rocks on the ground. I also liked the soft-wall and think that if I lived in a larger apartment it would be really cool to be able to separate off a section of a room with it. I liked that light could show through it and reflect, but I guess I felt the space was too small. I would either want to be in a small space like that entirely closed off from the public, or have a much larger space like that accessible to the public. I thought it was interesting that later in the presentation there were pictures of the rocks being picked up and examined or played with, but I didn’t really feel like it would be entirely appropriate for me to do that myself when I initially walked in. I also don’t think I would have sat down on the stool or spent a lot of time in that space if I were by myself because I’d feel out of place which is another reason I’d want it to be a bigger space with a lot of seats or bigger chairs to really sit down in for a longer period of time instead of a small stool.

Part 2:
If I had to evaluate the Present Moment Project I would say it’s a great idea and I would definitely be interested in seeing more installations being put into place around campus. Right now it is just getting started and I think it will take a lot longer to really make an impact on a large group of students. I would like to see installations in areas of campus that have more student traffic because that was the first time I had ever been in Nolte and it’s not somewhere I’d go out of my way to stop by on a regular basis even though I liked the space. I am excited to see what happens in Rapson Hall and I think it’s interesting to note the kind of spaces chosen for the project so far. I consider Rapson pretty open to allowing an installation since it is the home of architecture students, and Nolte also seems like a pretty laid-back space, but I couldn’t imagine it in some of the other buildings on campus like Moos Tower or Willey Hall where I feel people are always in a hustle (maybe these are the areas where students need to be reminded to take a moment to de-stress the most).
The Present Moment Project is an art because it takes the mental sensation of stress and tries to construct a physical environment that will have an effect on targeting that stress and hopefully alleviating it or at least making people aware of their current stress level. Just like going to an art museum or gallery allows the viewer to focus on artwork, the environment created by the Present Moment Project aims to get a person to focus on their immediate surroundings instead of thoughts and worries that will be occurring in the future.
If I were asked to propose a project to address stress on campus I would like to see something that really grabs peoples attention and doesn’t require the student to go out of his/her way to be a part of it but also doesn’t force the student to do anything on his/her part. I know I’ve been invited to participate in stress-awareness related events before and sadly but truthfully I would just decline because that’s another thing I don’t want to see on my To-Do-List. I like when I’m walking on campus and I come across things that are right on my way to class because that’s usually the only way I’d find out about them. I love when I walk over the Washington Avenue Bridge and there is stuff set up right where you begin or end walking across. Usually it’s people giving away free food or drinks (which I think makes all students happy) but if there were an installation to walk through for all or part of that stretch it would be something I would definitely remember and it might even get students to walk outside instead of take the bus. I think it would be particularly powerful to have something visual for students to see and think about when they’re walking on campus. I always like looking at the murals painted on the inside portion of the bridge advertising the various clubs on campus so I think it would be kind of cool to see some other kind of artwork along the way. Nature sounds, soft lights, and other outdoor elements are always a plus.

Posted by beckx214 at 08:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Part 1:
Last Tuesday, I evaluated my stress level at a five on the dice (that is, five out of six), six being totally beyond functioning, and 1 being a serene summer morning with an agenda waiting to be filled with Arnie Palmer's beachside. Well, being at five, I was quite stressed, and it is in part due to the fact that within two weeks time, I need to find a full time job to pay the bills and for the excess Haagen Dazs I have turned to settle the storminess that is my last semester. On the continuum of the entire semester, I would say its been relatively similar, although I do remember having one or two comfortable evenings way back when, not to be seen since.

So you can imagine that an hour of free contemplation time was a bit miraculous. So I began by sitting outside of the Bell Museum of Natural History in that adorable little pseudo-wild nature space. It was nice for while, I even made a little pinecone person, but it wasn't long before riotous frat boys across the street ruined the semi-quietness of it all. I figured there was no way I would be able to absorb myself in contemplation, so I decided to call a friend who I haven't seen in over a year and haven't had the time to call for a while. And I have to say, it was the best hour I have had in a long time.

The return to Nolte was nice as well, and the present moment project space was definitely like no other space I have experienced. For me, the rocks were the most soothing aspect of it, because I was one of those kids who used horde rocks in my pockets. Don't worry, I didn't steal any! I liked how they were all very smooth, and they reminded me of those worry stones that you're supposed to hold to release stress. So I guess it worked for me. I sat there for a little bit just staring at the wrinkles in the paper and feeling the uneven ground beneath my feet.

Part 2:
If I were asked to evaluate the Present Moment Project, I think I would just tell people that they should go if they want to see and experience somehting different, with the disclaimer that it was not an adventure like skydiving, but perhaps, in the spiritual sense it can be. I'm not sure what it means to evaluate this installation: how do you critique something that is both art and a usable public amenity. I think it is art in many different ways: It pushes the boundaries of how we use public space. It challenges us to give ourselves, if even just for a minute, a breath of fresh air and a clean screen to be able to think of the things we actually want to think about, if anything. It provides a space in which our spirituality can intermingle with our public life. It opens the door for more and different projects with a similar aim. If I were to propose a project, program or event to address stress on campus, I think I would try to organize a campuswide yoga event covering all the greenspace in the Mall.

Posted by Kari Volkmann at 11:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

As you all know, I was unable to attend class this week because I had the opportunity to shadow/interview Dave Dahl, who is the chief meteorologist for KSTP Channel 5. I had to shadow him for an assignment for another class, but I would like to reflect on my time at the studio and connect it with the discussion of art and technology, and the discussion of stress.

Dave has worked at the studio for 31 years, so he has seen the gradual and drastic changes in technology over the years. When he started, they used an easle with a map set on it. Technology was nowhere near what it is today. After his first few years at the studio they started using a big plexi glass map that they would draw on with markers while giving the forcast. A few years after that, KSTP Channel 5 was one of the first studio's in the country to use a computer graphics generator as a part of their weather forecasts. This eventually led to using multi-colored maps with graphics and satellite photos to show cloud cover.

Here's an interesting factoid about the satellite photos: in the beginning, all of their satellite images were individual still frames put together to make an animation of clouds. Dave said it was a lot like claymation. I thought this was really interesting, because the technology used in the studio is extremely connected to art. When I asked Dave to comment about the progressive technology he said that meteorology is a mix of art and science. The science aspect is all of the research and monitoring of radar and the art is how they present the forecast. Weather forecasts would not be what they are without the use of graphics and advanced computer technology. If you think about it, it really is a form of art. Artists capture the various aspects of nature in their work, and this is what meteorologists do as well. They show the viewers images of clouds traveling across the green screen, or moving fronts that are shown in vibrant colors.

As far as the idea of stress in connection with my trip to the studio. Basically, the studio is full of stress constantly! Dave didn't have a moment to himself. He was either on the computer checking the weather, getting ready to do the "teaser" before the newscast aired, doing the weather forecast on KS95 or being interviewed on 107.1 Talk Radio. He's obviously used to what he does everyday no matter how busy it may be, but it still gets stressful from time to time.

One final point before I wrap this long entry up. Not surprisingly meteorologists get complaints about the weather, expecially if they predicted the wrong forecast. Reporters also get complaints about stories they write. The broadcast journalism business really teaches people how to deal with criticism and deal with stress. It's an intense business and my trip to the studio confirmed that, but it's amazing what these people do on a daily basis.

Thanks for reading!!!

Posted by matth120 at 02:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Stress in general ---
well... As the end of the semester is in sight I find my stress levels rising... It seems as though the procrastination that has taken place in the past three months has had little pay off.... Now I'm left with a ton of work to compete and all I really want to do is hang out outside. I usually deal with such stress by making tea... I watch the water transform from cold stagnant water to excited bubbling tea... I think... It may be getting a little hot right now... But soon I will have tea...

Stress in Nolte---
I find myself being fairly productive in this space... I'm sitting over by the present moment unstallation... Next to the unconvincing fake plant... I'm not inside the space, but being by it helps me to focus... Maybe it is bexaisei know that there is a place near by where I can relax... I feel that the rest of the space in nolte is open for students to relax while being productive.. I find the fake plant a little distracting...

Venturing outside---
being outside is giving me slot more distractions--- it reminds me of how every summer I try to bring a book the beach but never read it.... Last summer it was the awakening .... I thought it was an appropriate beach book... Being outside does make me worry a lot less about the things that I need to do... I think that nature reminds me that things are more complex than the deadlines
that are creeping up... Papers will get written and read and life will go on...

I just realized that I wrote all of this in the entry body... Since I'm in my phone it will have to stay there since i cant copy and
paste

Posted by Benjamin Faga at 08:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

From art works in Nash Gallery M.F.A thesis exhibition, the most interesting piece was Gail Heidel's work.
It was at the middle of the gallery, and made of bricks. The reason that I like the piece among other is that the piece looks like "lego" that I loved to play with. When I was a child, everyday I spent 5 hours to play with lego. I made car, airplane, train and many other things. And, at the end of the play, I always designed to make a city in my room. Because the city is made of many buildings and complicate roads, it was fun to design. My city was somehow interrelated to its elements, and Gail Heidel's work reminds me the city. As my city, his work looks like interrelated to its elements. Each buildings that made of different shapes of bricks are interacting with others. To me, it looks like a giant city or computer system.

When I watch the piece in specific, the center of the work is made of bricks that have cube shape. The brick was a perfect normal brick shape, and didn't have dates on it. The center was made of "prototype" bricks. However, when it goes to outside of the piece, the buildings were made of distinctive brick shapes. To me, the changes looked like an "evolution" of the bricks. Thus, I felt time passage from the work. Around the piece, there are a lot of bricks that have different shapes, and it looks very interesting.
Because the piece was made of one kind of material, it unifies whole works. However, because the shape of the bricks are all different, it also made me to feel variety at the same time. The work shows two different things (unity and variety) at the same time.

The coexistence of Unity and variety is not expressed in only material itself. It is expressed in the structure of the piece, too. As I said, it looks like a city that perfectly designed. However, at the same time, at the out side of the piece, there are several buildings and bricks that are not just in order. The structure of the work looks like planed or designed in center, but not in outside of the work.

Posted by yoonx080 at 07:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Past all of the large pieces of artwork in the very back of the Nash, the back section of the room is filled with noise and an entire wall is covered with small square videos of all different kinds of people. I chose to reflect on this piece because of its impact. You see the dark room and don't know what to expect and then you walk in and hear noise before seeing anything. Then you turn around and see a wonderful collage of people covering the wall.

The use of technology in this piece is incredible and essential to the piece. The last thing I expected to see when I walked in the room was a massive amount of videos put together in a giant collage. If there were just a couple of videos, the piece would not mean the same thing. The large amount of videos aren't just to show a variety of people, they are needed in order to create a massive amount of noise.

You can't pick out ONE person speaking or singing or whatever they are doing in their video. The piece is about enjoying noise. At first I found it frustrating to look at this piece and not be able to pick out one video to listen to. I was able to get close enough and look at one individual video, but I couldn't hear them specifically no matter how hard I tried. This was extremely unenjoyable. Then I did what the title of the piece said to do. ("How I learned to stop listening and love noise") I stopped listening, and it opened up an entirely new world of the piece. Our world is full of people and noise, but we don't necessarily stop to listen to noise as a whole. We listen to individual people and what they have to say. This piece brings to light all of the noise we're missing out on. When a lot of people talk at the same time it creates a new sound. This piece shows how many people come together with their own ideas and thoughts and create one unified sound.

Another interesting point about noise is that it doesn't matter what language you are speaking or what age or gender you are. The noise that this piece creates encompasses all of these things and I think that is beautiful. The piece has a whole new meaning when you sit back, close your eyes and just listen.

The images on the wall are also incredible, but in a different way. There are so many things going on in the collage. It would take hours to look at each individual frame. No two are the same, or at least not that I saw. There are people of all ages doing many different things. Some are dancing, some are showing signs, some are just talking. It's amazing to see everything that people do when they're being filmed. I loved how the videos spanned the full length and height of the wall. It is so large that you cannot stand back and see the whole thing at one time. You have to walk along the back wall to see everything. The fact that there aren't any gaps in between any of the frames connects with the idea of noise, because they are connected together into one unified collage. Even though each frame contains a different person, they are all contributing to the noise of the room.

This piece really made me look at noise in a different way. I used to think of noise as annoying and chaotic, but if you take the time to just listen it is actually quite amazing.

Posted by matth120 at 06:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

One of the most interesting pieces on display at the Scapes exhibition at the Nash Gallery is Christopher P. Baker’s Hello World! or: How I Learned to Stop Listening and Love the Noise. The piece is a 60’ by 10’ video projection collage of hundreds of YouTube videos, specifically “diary” type videos in which the subject of the video addresses the audience directly.

Although this piece is in the back of the Nash, gallery-goers encounter it immediately upon entering the space. When I first walked into the gallery, I thought there must have been a large group of people discussing something behind the back wall. I was quite surprised to turn the corner and see that it was a large group of people talking, in a sense. Only these people were video images projected onto a wall, their voices emitted through speakers. Although all the work in the exhibition is excellent, Baker’s audio-visual creation starkly contrasts some of the more traditional, static forms presented by the other artists.

It is difficult not to be awestruck by this piece. When you first encounter the piece it is difficult to take it all in. How does one begin to look at a piece of art that is 60 feet long? I decided to sit down on one of the benches along the back wall and try to watch the video in the best way I could. Sometimes I would decide to focus on one specific video and watch just that one. Other times I decided to take in the entire piece at once.

To say that Hello World! is mesmerizing would be an understatement. Part of that effect comes from the way the videos transition. Some videos will fade into the next, but most will flash quickly, creating a blinking affect.

Christopher’s work raises interesting questions about communication in the 21st century. Is it possible to talk to everyone and no one at the same time? How has the digitization of communication affected interpersonal relationships? Have new mediums of communication, specifically video-sharing Web sites, enhanced communication or diluted it?

I find it interesting that all of the people who made these internet videos believed that they had something very important to say. They are either discussing issues that are very important to them or divulging some aspect of their life that they think the world should know. In that way, they are addressing the entire world at the same time; whoever has internet access could be a potential listener. And yet it is entirely possible that absolutely no one will decide to watch their videos.

How would these people feel if they knew they were part of an artwork? I would imagine that anyone would be excited to appear in a gallery, but at the same time I think that these people would be a little dismayed to see how their voices are lost among the voices in the crowd. By taking away their words they lose some of their identity. They become little more than talking heads, their words indistinguishable above the dyne.

The title of this piece is reminiscent of the classic Kubrick film Dr. Stangelove or: How I Learned to Stopped Worrying and Love the Bomb. The Cold War has been over for nearly 20 years now and the world doesn’t worry about nuclear disaster the way that it used. So what is one of our greatest fears nowadays? One is the increasing computerization of society. Some people are afraid of technology, that it will “take over” our lives, that personal relationships with real human being will be replaced by false, digital relationships. Think of Facebook, MySpace, AIM, etc. Some might argue that those are modes of communication that stifle person-to-person relationships and become a replacement for human interaction. But we don’t need to worry about this, Christopher posits. We should just learn to love this blur of communication: the videos, instant messages, junk email, Facebook applications, text messages, and all their other various forms. The new modes of communication we’ve created are not necessarily bad, just different. It’s a beautiful mess.

Posted by teich024 at 04:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I think the piece that I ignored most during my initial visit to the exhibit, or put out of my mind the fastest, was R Justin Stewart’s self-portrait (October 7th- November 6th). His series of blue inkjet drawings is overshadowed in many ways by the spectacle of his piece bus structure 2am-2pm. However, the more I mull over this work, especially in terms of it being a self-portrait, the more intriguing I find this piece to be.
In the series, each blue page is a representation of a day within the time frame noted in the title. There are a total of thirty. The shade of blue varies to a greater or lesser extent, but always remains within the palette of blues that appear in the sky. On each page there is also small kind of discrepancy that takes the form of one or two thin, white, pixilated, jagged lines. Sometimes the lines spread out, other times they cross each other. They seem like a flicker of lightening amidst a huge blue back drop.
Something that expresses the self (of the artist) is contained in every page using some variation of shade and line pattern. It is a representation of the artist’s self on a given day within the framework of these two qualities. The pages by themselves could not show much about the individual, but the placement of them in a line creates a month-long timeline that gives a sense of movement and change. For example, a couple of the pages seem to have matching shades of blue signifying a consistency in the self from one day to the next; but then the third day ruptures this with a deeper shade of blue showing a greater change in the individual. The fourth day returns to shade of blue from the first two days (October 14th-17th). There is a shade of blue that appears more often than the others, and it has a greater likelihood of being repeated for two or three days at a time. This might mean a couple of things: it may be a sense of normalcy within the self broken up by deviated days, or it could be a dullness of the self broken up by days of more interest. What ever the case may be, the choice to use blue to represent the self is interesting. To me, blues that exist in the color palette used by the artist have an inspirational quality. Since they remind me of the sky, the overall effect is both mythical and optimistic.
The white lines can be interpreted in a million different ways. From my viewpoint, the lines reminded me of a figure diving through the sky. The patterns of the line signified something different about the degrees of openness, grace, awkwardness, fear, etc., of moving through the space we live in.
The viewer can walk past the piece from left to right to see the progression, they can walk from right to left as if moving backward in time, or they can back away from the piece and see the continuum of time all at once. In this last option, the viewer can almost break into a different dimension in which time exists not just a fixed point but in all points at the same time. I kind of like this thought because it alludes to greater possibilities of life beyond what we know as the third dimension.

Posted by remu0019 at 03:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When I entered the Nash Gallery, the first thing I saw was a series of paintings by Caroline Kent. I was as intrigued by their unusual shapes and their titles as I was by the painting itself. A painting called “I Saw the Sound of the Romanian Language” and a series of drawings in the next room (which seemed to be a meditation on Romania and its language) clued me in that Kent’s relationship with Romania must be the driving force behind her work, though I’m not sure what the nature of that relationship is.

There are clear similarities between her paintings; all of them have a sculptural quality, all have narrow cutouts or “spaces”, and all have similar color schemes and patterns. The repetition of these shapes all over the gallery gives the impression that this is an obsession of Kent’s, an idea that she has to work out through many, many different pieces. Through different media too, since she displays paper cutouts and drawings alongside her paintings as well. I could see how long she had been working with this one idea, or this one place, and I could see how important it is to her. There’s a very intimate quality about the exhibition of this obsession of hers, like she is inviting everyone into her struggle with expressing this idea. One of the pieces that immediately gave me the feeling of being invited in is “I Carved a Space for You,” which is an almost-rectangular piece with two thin lines cut out of it. When I got to this piece, I was thinking, She carved a space for me. That is sweet. But could I fit in there?

This brought up a problem in my mind, thinking about the smallness of the spaces she had created in her work and what that meant. “I Carved a Space for You” was friendly and inviting on one level, but exclusive on another. Thinking in terms of Kent’s experiences in Romania, it seemed to me that the size of these spaces might indicate the extent of her own willingness to yield to another culture, or perhaps America’s willingness (or unwillingness) to create spaces for other cultures within its own. I also started to think about the “spaces” Kent had created as “gaps”––gaps between cultures or between languages––that people need to get around or across in order to build new relationships. One piece, called (I think) “Look to the Rock From Which You Were Hewn” made me think also that Kent’s work might represent her own roots and the spaces in her life where she had been cut off from them.

Language is clearly an important aspect of her work as well. In her series of drawings, it looks as though a child wrote over them with Romanian words or letters. Her paintings almost seem like letters themselves, and the graffiti-like patterns on them have that quality too. These shapes get repeated in different contexts, signifying different things, like words and letters do. It’s as if she has created this metalanguage through her art to talk about the Romanian language and culture, and I think that is the impression you get when you walk into the gallery. That she’s had to develop this alternate language where she can express these complicated ideas, and that the viewer has to go in and figure it out and somehow bridge the gaps she has created between our language and hers.

Posted by lips0037 at 08:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It was hard to miss Justin Stewart’s “bus structure 2am-2pm,” as it took up much space directly to your left when you enter the gallery. But that was not the only thing that attracted me to it: it was so geometric and architecturally driven that there was an immediate sense of order and symmetry to it. I thought that it would have been interesting with clear thread (like fishing line) so that from a distance the wooden balls and copper and steel appeared to be floating, but I really enjoyed the blue thread that was there (plus this way people are less likely to run into it!). The pattern of the thread changes depending on where you stand; if you look from one angle, you can see all of the threads running to their respective places, but if you look from dead center of the wood and copper structure, it looks like fewer strands that are much thicker.

Even though it’s not an interactive piece in the sense of “touch me, play with me, figure me out,” the fact that you can approach it from so many angles and walk between the outer sides and the inner structure, that it does feel interactive in a sense. I wished that the outer steel weights were bells; wouldn’t that have been fun (but annoying for the person at the front desk of the gallery!)?

Speaking of the weights, that system is so intricate; there must have been a lot of work put into the hanging alone! Think about it: having to find perfect balance for each thread so that the entire thing would hang straight. I did hear that the wood and copper structure was put on something flat until all of the threads were hung, but there still would have been room for error if one (or more) of the threads wasn’t quite taut, weights were estimated incorrectly, if the threads weren’t just the right length, etc. I wish I could know more about the actual setting up of the piece, but wondering is good, too—keeps me occupied and out of trouble. : )

I also wondered about the center structure: how are the wooden balls and copper wire held together? Did he drill little holes into the wood? Superglue? Both? I have no idea, but I’m curious. Architectural pieces must demand these kinds of questions, because they aren’t questions I’ve generally asked myself before—except for the headless, rhinestone horses at MIA (which was a fascinating process)! I also wondered how the whole structure tied to “bus structure” as in the title. I don’t think I looked closely enough at the elaborate center structure to notice specific patterns, but it was all so intricate that it wouldn’t have mattered. But then again, I’ve seen Metro Transit maps of their entire system and that in itself is incredibly elaborate; perhaps that was the artist’s point: we have an elaborate system that is complete, functional, and holds itself together. If that were the meaning of the center structure, I would venture to see the threads as those who ride the bus, because there would be no reason or need for such an intricate busing system (or any busing at all) if not for its riders. The riders (or thread) go off in their perspective directions and each one is different in length when it reaches its weight (which could maybe portray a final destination kind of scenario??) but still attached to that busing system. The piece gives a very neat and self-contained perspective of Metro Transit, which makes me think that the artist has spent a lot of time on the bus, has depended on it, and has come to appreciate it or at least recognize its immense presence in his life. I have personally found the busing system to be difficult, tiring, and time consuming, so a fresh perspective was interesting and encouraging to see.

I did have one problem with the piece, though, and that was in the title—specifically the “2am-2pm” part. What bus is going at 2am? I couldn’t catch a bus at 2am and had to walk in the freezing cold from downtown to campus because we hadn’t planned the return trip. Okay, end rant.

In the end, I found the piece engaging and calming in its geometric nature; if I had a really large living room, it would be a fun addition!

Posted by hurl0063 at 01:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When going through the “Scapes” exhibition at the Nash, Tim Roby’s artwork caught my eye because of its quirky quality. My first encounter with the unusual shapes and distinct color scheme presented as paintings, drawings, and three-dimensional structures made me curious to find a deeper meaning. Initially I couldn’t come up with an underlying theme and felt that maybe these were all new objects to me, however, the more I focused on individual pieces I got the odd sensation of being surrounded by objects not quite familiar – yet not completely alien either. All of a sudden the long 3-D tube (colored nude on the outside and red inside) reminded me of a capillary blood vessel. The thing it was lying on (colored gray) looked like a storage cart. The standing pink object seemed similar to a portable AC/heating unit. The black object creeping over the gallery wall - barely kept from falling seemed to be a bird-cage come to life, and the painting of what appeared upside down on its legs suddenly became an overturned sofa-chair.
The color scheme of pastel blues, pinks, and nude colors as well as a few kicks of yellow, black, red, green, and a lot of white had an interesting effect on me as a viewer. I initially think of the use of pastels as having a submissive effect on the environment and making objects pale in comparison to other things, but that is not how I felt with Roby’s work. It definitely added to the whimsical element of the 3-D objects and made me feel like a child in a candy shop surrounded by a lot of sweets. It seemed to have an air of playfulness about it – like it was daring to be touched but that it also might spring into action and surprise you if you did. One such object that looked enticing was a yellow wedge (looked like cheese) mounted at the tip of a longer, thinner blue post. As a viewer you almost wanted to pick it up or touch it because it looked like it might fall over yet it stood very solid on the ground. I also feel the colors had an effect on how I interpreted the shapes, because the same tube I described as a capillary could have been a pipe if colored silver, or a hose if colored green. It was this peculiar color – shape combination that required my innovative side to come out and I would recommend any new viewers to put on their best thinking caps.
The paintings and drawings had a little bit of a different vibe. They were more structured and most reminded me of manufactured materials like parts of buildings, doorways, and furniture. One specific painting done on a wood background with black blades and bumpy pink surfaces on the bottom made me think of parting a dog’s fur and getting out a microscope to zoom in as if looking for fleas between rows of individual hairs. After taking a look at everything, what I felt everything had in common was the sense that these were small pieces of larger units severed from the whole and made to stand independently. Perhaps not all physically separated, but sometimes zoomed in, zoomed out, or focusing in on a perspective of an object that a person would not normally take into account. None of the objects were very complicated or intricate – they all seemed rather simple and basic which is probably why they felt like such familiar bits and pieces.
After taking all of this in without any prior knowledge about Roby’s artwork, it was very interesting to go back and look at the titles that he provided for each piece. It was at this point that I discovered that there seemed to be a political theme going on which really made me change my mind about how to view the objects. With titles like “The Fragility of Democracy”, “Negotiating with Terrorists”, “The Power and the Glory”, “Rise Above”, and “America the Beautiful,” I found a new interpretation for what I saw. All of a sudden the cage became a symbol of imprisonment, a lump on the floor became a symbol of our country’s failures, and the cheese wedge became more of an Olympic torch. I could definitely see two distinct mountainous structures in a drawing after I read the title “Beyond the Mountain is a Mountain”. I’m not sure if political commentary is what Roby intended or if he wanted the viewer to make up new meanings for what he portrayed, but I was glad to have my initial experience and then to see everything in a different light the second around. I still don’t have any answers about this exhibit, but I think that’s the best way to see it. I think it’s meant to engage your creative side and it definitely got me to think twice about everyday objects. I would best relate this experience to comedy skits where a group is presented with a seemingly everyday item like a pool noodle and asked to come up with as many different uses for it as possible.

Posted by beckx214 at 01:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

R. Justin Stewart's piece entitled "Self Portrait (Bus October 7th–November 6th)"

Immediately upon entering the Katherine Nash Gallery, the multiple shades of brilliant blue rectangles lined horizontally across the wall are hard to miss. Stewart's piece demands an inquisitive eye, for it is not straight away noticeable that the color squares have white scar-like lines methodically etched on 30 of the 31 pieces. After that, one can see that each solid blue square has a date marked in the lower right corner, and that many of the scar-like marks are replicated in others: the same length, same location, same twist to the left here, or a sharp upward turn there. These lines are none other than the bus route taken on the day each square represents, presumably traveled by the artist himself, considering it is entitled "Self Portrait."

One can walk from one end of the horizontal "portraits" to the other, and develop a narrative about the bus routes taken. Many days there is just one way taken; other times, a return trip is evident, overlapping the other line. Some of the days have a line that looks completely different than any route we have seen before, indicating a change in routine, perhaps a visit to a friend, a trip to the mall, or maybe he fell asleep on the bus and it took him too far. Some days it looks like a transfer route was taken, revealed by multiple lines criss-crossing the vast expanse of blue. Then one must consider the significance of the color blue, assuming there is one. The changes in shade can also create a narrative, possibly one signifying a particular emotion for that day, but really could be any number of factors, such as specific data compiled to create a darker color for one day and a lighter color for the next. And as you near the end of the 31 days, you come across a very pale day, so pale that it is very difficult to see a bus route so you stare for awhile trying to spot it until you think, "Actually, I don't think he took the bus this day. What on earth did he do that day?" He is clearly someone who relies on the bus system, given that 30 out of 31 days include at least one bus ride. However, if all of the days had had a bus route marked, I wouldn't have taken notice. This pale blue day is special, and one that that gives the piece a certain feel to it.

Stewart has uniquely graphed out a simple daily routine, and though it is his own self portrait, it is portrayed in a way that many can create their own story for it. In a way, it looks like a story board, and though it is a finished artwork, there is so much room left to work with that each viewer has the freedom to create their own narrative, effectively finishing what Stewart began.

My own narrative allowed me to imagine in what circumstances I would need to ride the bus so frequently. This person probably doesn't have a car, which leads to two more possibilities: that is a voluntary choice, or an involuntary reality. The first situation forms in my mind the image of an environmentalist, and that is the narrative I followed in my own interpretation. The second option (involuntary reality) implies a certain level of needs unmet. In any case, both narratives are very different and both demand a willingness to inquire and discover and create, at the same time as bring to light some social situations that just need to be thought about.

Posted by Kari Volkmann at 01:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Gail Heidel’s brick sculpture/display/work of art is a unique use of the medium clay. I’m also amazed at the way she filled up the space in the Nash Gallery with several bricks being prominently displayed on shelves, scattered among the walls. My eyes were first drawn to the elaborate brick structures, which ranged greatly in height, how close the bricks were together, and how many bricks were used. Then I noticed how each cluster of bricks had a slight modification to the brick, such as a piece cut out of the middle. These bricks were professionally cut to the artist’s specifications, and then arranged in a freestanding architectural design. On the wooden shelves, there were the bricks’ shapes on display, and as far as I could tell, there was only one of each special cut.
I think the shelves were used as an organizational tool to show how each style of brick contributed to the central structure. The numbers on the bricks serve as a coding system, and although there were usually one or two digits in common, each brick had a unique code. It’s like you could look at the shelves as a classification system and find “brick 9232” easily because they are so plainly displayed on the shelf. Since the central structure doesn’t show each brick as a whole, the shelves show what the bricks look like apart from the main piece. Also, I think the shelves of bricks help to frame the work of art in its space because otherwise, the central structure randomly trails off and ends. With the shelves, there is a distinct sense of framing and containing the art.
The center of the central structure is comprised of the standard brick shape; no pieces have been cut and the brick has not been altered in any way. That part of the structure is very simple, sturdy, and there are few spaces in between because the bricks fit so well together. However, the structure has several extensions from the main structure that experiment with variations of the bricks. Some of these extended structures are still fairly solid, depending on how much of the brick was removed, but some of them have been changed so much that they can only make very small structures. If they were to be any taller, they’d fall over for sure.
I interpret this piece as both a model of civilization and of life in general. For instance, the basic building block of life is the atom, and it’s from that particle which everything else is formed. As the basic building block (the bricks) are modified and slightly broken down with different formations, they become a little less stable and able to work well with each other. But if you follow the line of transformation back to the original structure, you can see how well the original model worked. This interpretation also works for architecture in civilization. The basic structure of a building is fitting bricks together with little to no gaps in between. This is why the original brick mold works so well, but when the brick is altered, the structure becomes less sturdy until eventually, they can’t even form a full structure.
A deeper interpretation is that this is how relationships are formed. By taking the same analogies as for the previous interpretations, it’s once again clear that things cannot form tight sturdy structures if they are missing key parts that make them a whole. People cannot work together if parts of their relationships are missing; it ruins the structure all together.
I think Gail Heidel’s brick construction can have that first impression that reminds us of our childhood and building blocks, but if you consider the deeper meaning behind her art, it still has the basic principle of the building blocks. Plus, I had this strangely intense inclination to start knocking over those teetering structures. Maybe Heidel had that as her main intention: to bring the audience back to their childhood with her art.

Posted by fjest003 at 11:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Here are some resources for learning about contemporary artists.

Please add additional resources.

MN Artists

Artists working at the intersections of art, technology, science and culture

Rhizome

Posted by Diane Willow at 10:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Choose one of the 6 artists presenting their MFA thesis work in the [ ] scapes exhibition in the Nash Gallery.

Write a 2 page description of this work.

The artists include:

Carlos DeGroot
Caroline Kent
R. Justin Stewart
Gail Heidel
Tim Roby
Christopher baker

April 2 - 24, 2008

Posted by Diane Willow at 10:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I attended "Moving the Moving Image," a panel discussion on 3/13 at the Walker Art Center. The event brought together Steina Vasulka, Christianne Robbins, and Amy Youngs -- three artists who work with video.

Steina Vasulka showed one of her pieces that combined black and white footage of violinists with footage of a "concert" in which a violinist controls an animation on a screen by moving the bow and the instrument in different ways. I thought that the first segment of the piece was particularly jarring. The way that Vasulka warped the sounds and the images was disorienting. It was strange to see a bow, always stick-straight in the real world, waver back and forth like Jell-O. The part with the electronic violin was very interesting. I kept thinking to myself "I wish I could try that!" I'm a string musician, so I thought it would be fun to manipulate the images on the screen like the performer was doing.

Next was Amy Youngs. One of the pieces she discussed was the one of the ones at the Nash Gallery. In that piece, she combines webcams of peoples pets into a montage. The video is then projected on the floor, and visitors to the word take furry platters and try to "catch" the images on their platter to see them better.

Last was Christianne Robbins. She read a very long paper she wrought about ideas of time and space. Even though it was maybe too long for a panel discussion, I found some of the things she mentioned to be very interesting. She talked about how nowadays people can be completely immersed in their cars as they drive to work. Their cars become alternate realities where they have their music, their cell phones, and their coffee. Her work involved setting up a camera on a California highway and taping the cars as they drove past.

The three artists took very different approaches to using video. Vasulka's was highly interactive; the user could directly manipulate the video. Furthermore, in the black and white segments, Vasulka deliberately altered the image and the sound to create something completely different. Youngs work involved simply capturing others' videos and then interpreting them in new ways by making a moving collage. The audience could interact with the video after it was displayed. Robbins's approach was very different. She simply pointed the camera and something at let the film roll. There were no actors. There was no commentary. It was simply a means of capturing real life.

I enjoyed seeing the artists and listening to them talk about their work. It was cool to actually be able to hear them explain their thought processes and the creativity that drives their work.

Posted by teich024 at 04:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)