Sean Quimby stood upright in a tailored black suit, walking firmly to the podium as he was introduced as a librarian scheduled to teach a new class next year on fear at Syracuse University. Though his stature and humor both exuded a marked feeling of confidence, his presentation, entitled “American Phobia: Collecting in the History of Fear,” lacked coherence, absent of the single most important aspect a lecture can have: a thesis. Quimby began the lecture referring to Edvard Munch’s famous piece, “The Scream” with a notable clarity and articulate tongue. The piece, noted for its ability to evoke fear in the viewer, allowed the audience to also experience fear on a very minute level, personalizing the lecture on a small scale. Quimby quickly digressed to the larger, overall concept of fear, simply stating “everyone knows it.” He attributed the almost debilitating emotion to both an emotional and physical origin. In terms of the physical aspect, he noted Charles Darwin as a key scholar who recognized that people along with animals have the innate emotion society deems fear. Quimby comments that “fear is deeply woven into the inner fabric of our landscapes,” which adequately supports Darwin’s theory that man naturally feels such emotion. Fear is in the genetic makeup of each person, something which man and animal alike cannot escape.
Quimby digressed once again to pose the question, “Why are Americans scared of the wrong thing?” He further questioned why Americans are scared of terrorist attacks, plane crashes and cancer, while dying in a car crash is more likely than any of the aforementioned fatalities. He attributed the 9-11 tragedies with solidifying this long term theme of fear in American life. According to Joanna Bourke, author of Fear: A Cultural History, fear is the most pervasive emotion in everyday life. Ultimately, she affirms, there is no “American” way of fear. Interrupting the flow of the lecture, Quimby paused for a moment to share the official Oxford Dictionary’s definition of fear as an emotion of pain or uneasiness causes by a sense of impending danger of by prospect of some evil. Somewhat out of place, Quimby undoubtedly should have provided the audience with this definition at the beginning of the lecture. The definition included no personal findings from the research and provided the audience with a very narrow explanation.
Quimby moved back into the rhythm of the speech, telling the audience that two trends persist in the presence of fear: the “dogged invasion fantasy” and the “gradual emergence of therapeutic culture.” This idea of invasion stems from the American fear of an internal threat, whether being immigrants, communists or terrorists. He relates this to Sacco and Venzetti, two dark skin Italians accused of being communists. This threat of communism snow balls into the Red Scare and Senator Joseph McCarthy who furthered these invasion fantasies. Ultimately, people lack the fundamental ability to differentiate reality from fiction. In terms of the emergence of a reparative community, the goal is to eliminate fear from day to day life, or as Quimby says, “[Cripple] the effects of fear.” Concluding the lecture, Quimby notes that he is especially partial to John Vassos’ theory that fear is ultimately psychotic. A follower of Sigmund Freud, Vassos claims that the root of all fear is selfish, sexual desire, which inevitably leads to materialism.
While the lecture centered around fear as an emotion and ever-prevalent issue in society, Quimby’s speech failed to focus in on a particular aspect of fear that could be exploited and explored. Fear is too broad of a topic, to which he only devoted thirty-six minutes of time. Because his focus was much too general, it felt as an audience member that he just skimmed the surface of such a captivating topic. Looking back, Quimby might have intentionally done this to lure people to his class on this very topic that he will teach in Fall 2008.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Saturday, September 8, 2007
September 9, 2007
How does the Binh Danh exhibit function as a testimony about the Viet Nam war and as a reflection of our current times? How does your impression of this exhibit compare to the views from Sontag?
Bin Danh’s exhibit pays homage to the Vietnam war, ultimately leaving a lasting legacy of pain and suffering on today’s aesthetic world. The photographs are naturally imprinted into the landscape, creating an almost organic account of those lost in the war. According to Danh, the process is an “elemental transmigration,” transforming ordinary leaves into a resurrection of lost souls. In his research, Danh thought about atoms and the concept of matter regenerating itself; for Danh, recognizing that matter never escaped the Earth allowed him to reach a “oneness” with nature, saying “the blood, sweat and urine become part of the landscape.” Every time one breathes, he breathes in the smoke and dust particles still lingering from war. In essence, this faded quality mirrors the faded memories of each fallen man. He uses the organic nature of the leaves and grass to reflect the similarly organic nature of death. While examining Danh’s work, the ambiguity of the grass prints conveys a sense of unity; the viewer’s inability to identify a specific man in these works symbolizes that the featured subjects can be any man-- any son-- lost at war. These pieces are a testament to everyone killed, whether white, black or Asian. As a reflection of our current times, these pieces try to de-emphasize the importance of the individual and instead, allow the viewer to feel the pain of every fallen man. In Danh’s speech reflecting upon his life and his artwork, he said that Americans, and society as a whole, often overlook death, not wanting to experience its pain. His creations counter this trend and force each person to look inside themselves and how the war affected the greater community. The exhibit has an even greater affect because it is reminiscent of the war being fought in Iraq, some even calling this war a “modern Vietnam.”
In Susan Sontag’s “The Image World,” she writes, “A photograph is not only an image..., an interpretation of the real; it is also a trace, something directly stenciled off the real, like a footprint or a death mask” (Pg. 350). Relating this quote to Danh’s exhibit, both Sontag and Danh believe photography extends past the black and white shades imprinted onto a paper, or for Danh, a leaf or blade of grass. Danh uses these organic materials in conjunction with photography because the images erected from Vietnam act just as a “footprint” from the past. When one imagines a footprint in the sand, he sees a specific design, a print that while unique, is universally classified as just a footprint. Like Danh’s works, his images are imprinted into the landscape of the natural earth; and, similar to the footprint, while every fallen man was unique, he ultimately represents a larger being. According to Sontag, a photograph confirms that something existed. Danh uses similar theology while creating his artwork, as he collects bona-fide artifacts and pictures used in his final product. Sontag writes, “And like all credible forms of lust, [photography] can not be satisfied” (Pg. 367). While listening to Danh’s explanation as to the meaning and motives behind his work, the audience understands that his craving for more artifacts will never cease to exist. Even though an exhibit shows at Lightwork, this is by no means an end to Danh’s aspirations that will likely continue through the rest of his artistic career. Both Danh and Sontag understand the importance of photography as an art form, for as Danh explores Vietnam through all different angles of this media, Sontag affirms that photography is merely “note taking on potentially everything in the world, from every possible angle” (Pg. 364).
Bin Danh’s exhibit pays homage to the Vietnam war, ultimately leaving a lasting legacy of pain and suffering on today’s aesthetic world. The photographs are naturally imprinted into the landscape, creating an almost organic account of those lost in the war. According to Danh, the process is an “elemental transmigration,” transforming ordinary leaves into a resurrection of lost souls. In his research, Danh thought about atoms and the concept of matter regenerating itself; for Danh, recognizing that matter never escaped the Earth allowed him to reach a “oneness” with nature, saying “the blood, sweat and urine become part of the landscape.” Every time one breathes, he breathes in the smoke and dust particles still lingering from war. In essence, this faded quality mirrors the faded memories of each fallen man. He uses the organic nature of the leaves and grass to reflect the similarly organic nature of death. While examining Danh’s work, the ambiguity of the grass prints conveys a sense of unity; the viewer’s inability to identify a specific man in these works symbolizes that the featured subjects can be any man-- any son-- lost at war. These pieces are a testament to everyone killed, whether white, black or Asian. As a reflection of our current times, these pieces try to de-emphasize the importance of the individual and instead, allow the viewer to feel the pain of every fallen man. In Danh’s speech reflecting upon his life and his artwork, he said that Americans, and society as a whole, often overlook death, not wanting to experience its pain. His creations counter this trend and force each person to look inside themselves and how the war affected the greater community. The exhibit has an even greater affect because it is reminiscent of the war being fought in Iraq, some even calling this war a “modern Vietnam.”
In Susan Sontag’s “The Image World,” she writes, “A photograph is not only an image..., an interpretation of the real; it is also a trace, something directly stenciled off the real, like a footprint or a death mask” (Pg. 350). Relating this quote to Danh’s exhibit, both Sontag and Danh believe photography extends past the black and white shades imprinted onto a paper, or for Danh, a leaf or blade of grass. Danh uses these organic materials in conjunction with photography because the images erected from Vietnam act just as a “footprint” from the past. When one imagines a footprint in the sand, he sees a specific design, a print that while unique, is universally classified as just a footprint. Like Danh’s works, his images are imprinted into the landscape of the natural earth; and, similar to the footprint, while every fallen man was unique, he ultimately represents a larger being. According to Sontag, a photograph confirms that something existed. Danh uses similar theology while creating his artwork, as he collects bona-fide artifacts and pictures used in his final product. Sontag writes, “And like all credible forms of lust, [photography] can not be satisfied” (Pg. 367). While listening to Danh’s explanation as to the meaning and motives behind his work, the audience understands that his craving for more artifacts will never cease to exist. Even though an exhibit shows at Lightwork, this is by no means an end to Danh’s aspirations that will likely continue through the rest of his artistic career. Both Danh and Sontag understand the importance of photography as an art form, for as Danh explores Vietnam through all different angles of this media, Sontag affirms that photography is merely “note taking on potentially everything in the world, from every possible angle” (Pg. 364).
Monday, September 3, 2007
September 3, 2007
What is art?
Art is any form of creative expression that evokes an emotional response in either the viewer, the artist or both, whether being sculpture, painting, literature, photography or another medium of the like.
The Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania captures Warhol’s finest art pieces, affirming his position in the modern art world, whether being forty years ago or today. After taking and art history class in high school, the Warhol Museum ranked high on my itinerary of sites to visit while in Pittsburgh last spring. Each of Warhol’s pieces hung with prestige, yet one of his famous series of screen prints “Shoes” magnetically drew me into the piece. The print’s black base melted into the distance, as the diamond dust hypnotically removed my conscious mind from the very place I stood. Unknowingly, I spent approximately five minutes merely standing in what felt like the twilight zone. Mesmerized by the glitter particles, which seemed to jump of the print and surround my entire body, I unconsciously planted my feet, refusing to look away, afraid that this magical effect would disappear. Perhaps what most intrigued me was that I felt part of this painting. Even Baroque art, which characteristically engages and participates with the viewer, never affected me as did this Warhol piece. Simply standing in front of this screen print, the entire world evaporated, leaving only me and the artwork in a seemingly endless tunnel of nothing. While unsure of Warhol’s original intention for this print, it appeared very commercial, maybe an advertisement for a company. However, based on my previous knowledge of Warhol, I believe his work provides the audience with a different viewing lens, which in turn forces the viewer to respond to average images in different way. Such tactics range from alternating color palettes to repetition of the same, humdrum object. Thus, Warhol was successful in his attempt for the audience to look at a mundane object, such as shoes, and experience an entirely new emotion.
Discuss de Duve’s essay in relation to my definition.
De Duve’s central argument in “Art was a Proper Name” concludes that art essentially has no definition. Instead, the idea of art snowballs into several other definitions based upon one’s own feelings about the particular subject. De Duve proclaims that every piece of art builds upon a foundation, changing and evolving the definition of art into something new. As art renews itself, one struggles even more to set certain boundaries. De Duve uses Marcel Duchamp’s The Fountain to prove that art is ultimately what one deems art to be; what essentially matters is what art means to the viewer. He questions the undeserved disparity between Duchamp’s urinal the famous marble Aphrodite. De Duve also affirms that art must evoke an emotion already present within the viewer. One’s identity drives one’s personal understanding of art as a whole. However, while he believes that everyone loves art to some extent, “No one falls in love with Art in general” (31). Thus, this subjective view as to what qualifies as art allows everyone to be somewhat correct in his own definition.
Art is any form of creative expression that evokes an emotional response in either the viewer, the artist or both, whether being sculpture, painting, literature, photography or another medium of the like.
The Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania captures Warhol’s finest art pieces, affirming his position in the modern art world, whether being forty years ago or today. After taking and art history class in high school, the Warhol Museum ranked high on my itinerary of sites to visit while in Pittsburgh last spring. Each of Warhol’s pieces hung with prestige, yet one of his famous series of screen prints “Shoes” magnetically drew me into the piece. The print’s black base melted into the distance, as the diamond dust hypnotically removed my conscious mind from the very place I stood. Unknowingly, I spent approximately five minutes merely standing in what felt like the twilight zone. Mesmerized by the glitter particles, which seemed to jump of the print and surround my entire body, I unconsciously planted my feet, refusing to look away, afraid that this magical effect would disappear. Perhaps what most intrigued me was that I felt part of this painting. Even Baroque art, which characteristically engages and participates with the viewer, never affected me as did this Warhol piece. Simply standing in front of this screen print, the entire world evaporated, leaving only me and the artwork in a seemingly endless tunnel of nothing. While unsure of Warhol’s original intention for this print, it appeared very commercial, maybe an advertisement for a company. However, based on my previous knowledge of Warhol, I believe his work provides the audience with a different viewing lens, which in turn forces the viewer to respond to average images in different way. Such tactics range from alternating color palettes to repetition of the same, humdrum object. Thus, Warhol was successful in his attempt for the audience to look at a mundane object, such as shoes, and experience an entirely new emotion.
Discuss de Duve’s essay in relation to my definition.
De Duve’s central argument in “Art was a Proper Name” concludes that art essentially has no definition. Instead, the idea of art snowballs into several other definitions based upon one’s own feelings about the particular subject. De Duve proclaims that every piece of art builds upon a foundation, changing and evolving the definition of art into something new. As art renews itself, one struggles even more to set certain boundaries. De Duve uses Marcel Duchamp’s The Fountain to prove that art is ultimately what one deems art to be; what essentially matters is what art means to the viewer. He questions the undeserved disparity between Duchamp’s urinal the famous marble Aphrodite. De Duve also affirms that art must evoke an emotion already present within the viewer. One’s identity drives one’s personal understanding of art as a whole. However, while he believes that everyone loves art to some extent, “No one falls in love with Art in general” (31). Thus, this subjective view as to what qualifies as art allows everyone to be somewhat correct in his own definition.
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