An artist’s life is often a cascade of choices; making decisions about subject, medium, style, color – the list is basically endless. Each choice prunes the tree of possibilities and dramatically effects not just the final result, but also the process. Making a painting with hammer and chisel is pretty difficult.
The choice of sculpture as my chief focus came as a natural progression from my exposure to and background in construction and carpentry. From laborer to craftsman to artist. The tools of these trades impacted not only the output of each discipline, but the artist himself: my body paid the price for my choices in the form of tendon and joint damage. Pain is another highly effective filter, forcing me to put down some tools and pick up others – like the computer. Working digitally enabled me to continue exploring form without the pain, the frustration of lost dexterity. The medium of 3D software comes with its own constraints and demands, including the obvious level of remove from the physical interaction with the work, as well a the massive intellectual overhead of learning how the software functions. I’ve run through the litany of software I use on this blog before, so I won’t burden you with that again. Suffice it to say that the number and complexity of tools between me and what I want to make can be frustrating. If I have to watch one more half hour tutorial video just to get the effect I envision, I may explode.
I’ve once again taken the Oblique Strategy of returning to the beginning: my first exposure to creating on the computer was via vector drawing and Adobe Illustrator. In pursuit of simplicity and creativity through constraint, I’ve elected to see what I can make using just my iPhone and the App ecosystem thereon. A company called Pixite makes several interesting creative apps, including a simple but powerful vector drawing program, Assembly – far simpler than Illustrator, but that’s the whole point. An added bonus is portability and the freedom to sit or lie in any position while working – it’s a great way to relieve the stress of desk jockeying (not to mention standing around all day on cold concrete, melting frigid stainless steel together).
Here’s some of the things I’ve come up with:
I’ve been working on another edition of my “Event Horizon” piece. The concept behind the sculpture has to do with the theorized existence of a gravitational border around a black hole beyond which nothing can escape. I wondered what it might look like to see something torn apart but not completely consumed by the black hole; what might the remnants look like as they were spun off into space? I thought it might be stylized into something like this:
“Event Horizon” sculpture in Stainless Steel – with powder coated veneers.
Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across this video, showing a Red Giant star being ripped apart by a massive black hole at the center of a nearby galaxy:
Thank you, Steve.
More info here.
“The advice I like to give young artists, or really anybody who’ll listen to me, is not to wait around for inspiration. Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself. Things occur to you. If you’re sitting around trying to dream up a great art idea, you can sit there a long time before anything happens. But if you just get to work, something will occur to you and something else will occur to you and somthing else that you reject will push you in another direction. Inspiration is absolutely unnecessary and somehow deceptive. You feel like you need this great idea before you can get down to work, and I find that’s almost never the case.”
Matthias Pleissnig makes some beautiful and complex forms in wood.
I’ve been spinning in place a bit. On a whim, I tried dipping into Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies for a little inpiration, and the message was “Retrace your steps.” I wandered back through the timeline of my experiences as an artist, and arrived at the time when I had first fallen in love with the computer as a creative tool. I was using my Apple Macintosh LC, and had installed a program called “Canvas” that had an unbelievable set of both vector and pixel tools. I remember the clean, infinitely-tweakable lines (command-Z, how I love thee!) that I could use to make drawings. I wish I’d managed to save some of that stuff so we could have a good laugh.
Anyway, like any proper geek, I have a dual-boot system with Vista and Ubuntu. Part of my inertia has been related to frustration with the constant pull of new and newly-upgraded software, especially the heaps of cash involved. Thus the appeal of Ubuntu – and of Inkscape thereon. Inkscape is, IMO, the best Open Source software available. I own a license of Adobe Illustrator, and DREAD opening that bloated behemoth – Inkscape doesn’t have the depth of tools, but that’s the point. It is a streamlined Illustrator driven by the needs of the user rather than the need of a corporation to sell licenses and upgrades. Another contrast comes from my involvement in 3d modeling – it just starts to feel like the means are so involved that the ends often seem off in the foggy distance. Vector drawing brings the immediacy of making marks on paper to the computer, while still allowing amazing control over the process.
I understand that part of the point of this piece was to call attention to the massive amounts of waste we in the developed world produce, and to highlight the ephemeral essence of all the “stuff” we strive so hard to acquire. Gormley is one of my favorite sculptors – but this kind of condescending spectacle has definitely lowered his esteem in my eyes. Why exacerbate the very problems you are hoping to solve?
This brings up a point that bugs me no end regarding my own choice of method and material: how to reconcile the obvious environmental crisis-in-progress and my part in it with my (and our culture’s) need to create and express. Is Gormley’s monstrous cloud of smoke any worse in the end than the unseen multiple such clouds emanating from the iron mine, the steel mill, the tractor-trailer delivering the raw material for MY sculptures? Finding a point of equilibrium that allows one to be in the world without accelerating it’s destruction is probably the most profound and important question we all must ask ourselves as we venture into a new millennium.
What do you think?
This idea – or at least the seed of it – has been floating around inside my mind’s eye for quite a while. I finally have the tools to make it a reality, which I find pretty damn exciting. It is meant as a symbolic treatment of Richard Dawkins’ “meme” concept:
“A meme (pronounced /miːm/) consists of any unit of cultural information, such as a practice or idea, that gets transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another. Examples include thoughts, ideas, theories, practices, habits, songs, dances and moods and terms such as race, culture, and ethnicity. Memes propagate themselves and can move through a “culture” in a manner similar to the behavior of a virus. As a unit of cultural evolution, a meme in some ways resembles a gene.” (From the Wikipedia article.)
It’s that “propagate” bit that this piece plays on in the form of a concentric ripple – an idea moving from mind to mind like a wave, spreading out from it’s origin and altering the energy state of other ideas within the culture. It also employs the imagery of a matrix or lattice to illustrate the memeplex being made up of individual, discrete consciousnesses experiencing a collective and individual transformation through the propagation. I think of this process when I analyze the slow but steady progress our species is making from one cultural paradigm to the next, as ideas like liberty, responsibility, and reason spread virally and replace those of dominance, exploitation, and superstition. As more minds begin to cohere, constructive interference amplifies these waves – and everything gets just a little bit better.
I finally had the motivation to get professional photos of some of my recent small pieces. Happily, I happen to know a guy who is both a brilliant photographer and interested in my work – enough to want to work a trade. As I was importing the fruits of his labors into my computer, I realized that each and every image was beautiful. Thanks, Jafe.
I’m currently reading “Mind Wide Open” by Steven Johnson (his most known work is “Everything Bad is Good for You”). It’s subtitled “Your Brain and the Neuroscience of Everyday Life”. In it he cites the work of researcher Joseph LeDoux, who has found that the experience of danger actually follows two distinct pathways in the brain – one conscious and rational, the other unconscious and intuitive. The second pathway, dubbed the “Low Road”, ends at the amygdala, which basically specializes in emotional response. This bifurcation is why you will find yourself suddenly frozen in place when you glimpse a very snake-like branch on the trail, before your cortex is able to analyze the much more high-resolution signal it receives and conclude that it’s not a threat. It’s very much a matter of bandwidth – the amygdala gets a very low-res version very quickly, while the cortex signal is slower but richer in content. Other studies show that our ability to apprehend the emotional states of others is handled much better by this brain sub-system as well – your immediate, intuitive reaction to someone’s facial expression is much more accurate than the one settled on through your cortical deliberations. First thought, best thought.
This made me wonder if a person’s predilection toward more sketchy, painterly artworks isn’t somehow tied to this neurological phenomenon – we tend to think of it as a “gut reaction”, but could it be that this is a function of the way our brains work? It’s interesting to note that as we grow more knowledgeable about art, we tend to value works that embody a more spontaneous, less fussy visual style. Is this because we learn to trust our amygdala and depend less on our cerebral cortex – and it’s greater complexity? To me, the whole purpose of art is to convey something universal about an individual, internal emotional state – what better part of the brain to utilize than the one that specializes in emotion?
“In my sculptures I transform powerful images into sculptures that interweave personal narrative, with social issues. Made from newspaper and tape, which I refer to as “social materials,” everybody can equally access these materials; I cover each sculpture in expressive and abstract graphite markings. The contrast between the methodical binding of materials and the abruptness of the mark making suggests physicality as sensual and destructive. The intimacy of the figures’ interaction is agitated by the presence of the viewer. I am interested in how the viewer relates to the sculptures as either participant or voyeur. With this juxtaposition, I seek to reveal the corporeal and mental boundaries of desire.”
It’s a rare and wonderful experience for me to find an artist’s work that is utterly new to me and utterly spectacular. Ned Kahn’s work makes me wonder why I bother – it’s just that damn good. Mmmm, humble pie. My favorite.
Sometimes I feel really limited by the constraints of reality on my creativity. Trying to always figure out how to make something out of real-world materials can be a serious buzzkill. Inside my computer, though, I’m free to experiment and do things that would be impossible eldewhere. I use the amazing ZBrush to sculpt digitally what I can’t make with my welder. Very fun.