Dissing The Dada

   Today I want to talk about Marcel Duchamp's sculpture 'Fountain'. Where to begin? It's a porcelain urinal. That's pretty much all that can be said to describe this 'work of art'. This shining example of Dadaism is something about which I feel quite strongly.

   The Fountain is merely a urinal. A run-of-the-mill mass produced piece of toilet furniture, which has been placed on it's back and signed with Duchamp's pseudonym 'R. Mutt'. This piece created controversy, with many of his contemporaries refusing to accept its validity. It was also refused for exhibition by his fellow members of the Society Of Independent Artists. I would tend to agree with them, as personally I just can't see it as a genuine piece of art. It is argued that he was putting forward the question 'what is art?'. It was Duchamp's intention to change peoples' view of the artform from the physical object and the skills required to make it, to the intellectual interpretation of the object as art in itself. I would have to challenge such a notion, after all it would surely follow then, that we would gain enough nourishment talking about our food rather than eating it.

   It has been suggested that what Duchamp was attempting to create was 'anti-art', and it was his own way of passing comment on some of the work on offer during his time. If this is the case, I don't feel he pulled it off successfully, as he spawned many imitators and in so doing created a 'bona fide' genre, which in my humble opinion is a rather a lazy and pathetic excuse for creativity, which undermines the best will, intentions and hard work of so many more worthy individuals. The way I see it, true artistic expression takes time, effort and passion. Not only should it convey quality and craftsmanship, it must also have some power of transcendence. For me, and I am sure many others, a 'pisspot' or its ceramic cousins just does not cut it.

   You may well have gained the impression from this, that I am not the biggest fan of conceptual art and it's ilk. And you would be correct. You may strongly disagree with me, and you are perfectly entitled to do so. For me, it was a period that I find to be quite undesirable, aesthetically and emotionally. Although it may have inspired some modern conventions that we have today, personally I believe that this period, and much of which followed destroyed the prestige that art once had. The legacy of this genre meant that anyone can become a renowned 'artist', simply by making a hasty scribble, splashing paint or bodily excretions or re-purposing everyday objects, 'et viola c'est l'art!'. Rant over. 

Some Links, in case you want to read on further:
Dada 
Marcel Duchamp 

(all pictures used are the copyright of the relevant owners. No copyright infringement intended.)

 

  

Deep, Dark And Dangerous

   On another breezy autumnal day in Dundee, I made my way to the University lecture theatre. After finding a seat I settled in to listen attentively to this week's subject, which covered a range of art styles, from Renaissance to Modernism. The period that I found particularly interesting was Romanticism. One particular piece of work that really spoke to me was 'The Nightmare' by Henry Fuseli. During a series of slides being shown to us, this painting really stood out, being both striking and evocative, portraying a dark and eerie scene full of symbolism.

   Apart from it's bold composition, one of the most interesting things that struck me about the painting was it's ability to invert and upset the accepted traditions of the time. For example, we may typically expect to see a recumbent female nude, surrounded by cherubs or attendant maids in a light and airy scene enjoying abundant fruits or gazing upon a beautiful vista, et cetera. Instead, with 'The Nightmare' we are treated to a reversal of these norms as we gaze upon a woman in the midst of night terrors. Her clothed form lies back slumped over the edge of her bed and upon her exposed and vulnerable chest sits a demon, malevolently staring out towards the viewer. This bizarre scene is made more disturbing by the presence of a dark horse with soulless eyes, peering from behind a voluminous red drape in the background.

   As I lock eyes with the imp, I believe that he represents the oppressive weight of worries and fears that can trouble the subconscious of the unconscious. The term 'nightmare', as much as I might like to link it to the horse in the background, actually refers to a feeling of suffocation and of difficulty in breathing during a tormented state of sleep. I feel that the incubus sitting upon the troubled female effectively represents this aspect, as his presence, weight and malevolence bear down upon her. Sitting in a position of oppression, he casually commands her ability to breathe easily or not. Perhaps the rather peculiar expression on the face of this creature, as he sits appearing to ponder something with a hand raised to his chin, could represent the victim as she internally struggles with her woes. Fuseli makes effective use of light and dark to provide a very striking composition, a realm of darkness, doom and foreboding contrasted with areas of light, colour and hope. I'm not quite sure what to make of the 'blind' horse, perhaps it represents a vehicle for escape from the hellish turmoil, or even a method of being delivered deeper into the torment. According to Germanic folklore, horses (nags or mares), often appear in the dreams of men experiencing troubled sleep and carry them around on a wild journey.

   I was very interested to learn that Fuseli's painting was an inspiration to Mary Shelley as she wrote her best known work 'Frankenstein'. In fact Henry Fuseli had a lengthy love affair with Shelley's mother (Mary Wollstonecraft) a few short years before her birth. In Shelley's novel, there is a scene which reflects the imagery of 'The Nightmare' in which Victor Frankenstein's bride Elizabeth is murdered by his 'creation', and her corpse drapes lifelessly over her bed. Whether it was Fuseli's painting or any of his later variations, or perhaps Shelley's writing and that of her peers, there was a desire amongst their receptive audience for a diet of mystery and horror. This is all rather odd perhaps, as it comes under the umbrella of romanticism, which seems something of a paradox. However, this movement helped inspire a great many artists and writers to produce many splendid works enjoyed both at the time and to the present day.

Here are some links: 

Romanticism 

Mary Shelley 

Mary Shelley's Influences 

Gothic Nightmares 

Henry Fuseli 

Mary Wollstonecraft 

   

Before Is After

   A pair of brown trousers billow and drift across a blue sky. Suddenly, an old Winnebago hurtles down a dirt road in the New-Mexico desert, trailing plumes of dust and scattering volleys of gravel. The driver, a man wearing only a gas-mask and his underpants, struggles to control the wallowing vehicle, as his respirator becomes obscured with the condensation caused by his rapid breathing. In the passenger seat, a younger man sits unconscious, also wearing a mask. As the large motorhome careens side to side across the arid desert road, we see two lifeless bodies sliding across the vinyl floor inside the vehicle, amidst spilled chemicals and an improvised chemistry lab. As the driver's mask fully steams up, he loses control of the vehicle, and veers wildly into a ditch.

   In his bizarre state of undress, we see the man stumble out into the desert sun, after bursting open the vehicle door. Yanking off his respirator and throwing it aside, he then dons a green shirt which had been clinging to the wing mirror, having been hung there previously. In the distance the faint wail of sirens can be heard, gradually becoming louder. Filling his lungs with air and holding his breath, the man climbs back inside, returning quickly with a camcorder, a wallet and a gun. Composing himself, the man then looks into the camera and records an ad hoc farewell to his wife and son. As the insistent cry of the sirens grow louder and louder, and the tangible force of authority comes closer, he then places the camcorder on the ground, next to his wallet. The man then steps out on to the road, facing the direction of the sirens howl, and draws the pistol, taking aim at his impending doom. He stands waiting, gun in hand as the tension builds.

   So it is, that we are introduced to Vince Gilligan's Breaking Bad, and the character of Walter Hartwell White. This is the opening scene from the pilot episode. The first time viewer knows nothing of the character on screen, nor how he ended up in this situation. We, the observers are thrown straight into the action, with no explanation of the events leading up to this scene. With a sense of mystery created, the audience desires to know more and willingly become involved in the story, in the hope of finding out what happens next, and perhaps more importantly, what came before.

   In film, television and writing this type of opening scene is classed as 'In Medias Res'. This term for the narrative technique is taken from Latin and means 'in the midst of things'. When a story employs this approach in its structure, the tale is told from a point in the middle or later, rather than the beginning. In most cases we are often thrust into a scene of intense drama or conflict, rather than allowed the more classical character introduction and gradual exposition. Incrementally, the backstory is unveiled to the viewer with the use of flashbacks, which serve to bring us up to speed with the plot and it's history.

   The opening introduction to Breaking Bad perfectly defines 'In Medias Res'. Having been introduced to Walter in such surreal and dramatic circumstances, we are later clued-in to the 'whys and wherefores' of his predicament, as we witness preceding events through 'flashbacks'. As the audience, we can enjoy the dramatic irony as we watch the story unfold, knowing full well what Walter does not. Having caught up on itself, the story then continues along a more conventional and chronological path, carrying both Walter and his audience in the same direction.

   When it comes to film and television, I am quite fond of the above technique, as it can inject a rush of adrenaline and excitement, thereby grabbing my attention from the start. It's a narrative device which I have been aware of for quite some time, and I like to naively refer to it as 'Before is After'. When used well, a sense of interest is imparted to the viewer, compelling him or her to be drawn into the story and become intrigued to learn more.

Some links relating to the subject:

In Medias Res 

Examples of In Medias Res 

How We Got Here 

Video used is property of AMC. No copyright infringement is intended 

Blink And You'll Miss It

   Put simply, animation is an illusion. It's very essence relies upon the ability of the human mind to interpret a series of quickly moving images as a continuous motion. Without this phenomenon, we would not be able to appreciate the wonders of animation or film. The name given to this experience is the 'Persistence of Vision'.
  
   Persistence of Vision is a theory that lies at the core of animation. It is a phenomenon that occurs within the human eye, in which an image remains for approximately 1/25th of a second in the retina. The concept was first written about by the physician Peter Roget in his 1824 paper 'The Persistence Of Vision With Regard To Moving Objects'. In his work, he attempts to describe the effect, and suggests that the eye works in such a way that when it perceives two or more images rapidly replacing one another, it is seen as a continuous flow of motion. 

Thaumatrope Example

   Roget’s writings on the subject influenced the development of several experimental animation devices in the Victorian era. Two such machines were, the Zoetrope (invented by William Horner) and the Thaumatrope (invented by Sir John Herschel). These rudimentary mechanisms helped demonstrate the theory, by demonstrating the above theory, and they soon became amusing parlour tricks that entertained many. Many now recognise these devices as the ancestor to the modern film and animation industry.

 

Who's Knocking At The Door, Zoetrope, 1870's

   It was discovered quite early on, that if a sequence were to be played at less than 16 frames per second, noticeable flickering would occur in the movement. Once the frame rate rises past what is known as the 'flicker rate', the sequence will appear fluid, as the blank spaces between frames are filled in by the residual image in the eye. Without the ability to perceive the images as an unbroken sequence of motion, we would be aware of the 'black' gaps between each frame. If you would like to mimic this experience, try blinking your eyes and slowly waving a finger in front of your face. Blinking fast, you will perceive a small break in your vision, but when you blink slowly you will begin to notice an obvious break in your vision. This is a very crude example, however, it should serve well enough to demonstrate the effect.

   These discoveries and the many experiments that were carried out around the time, influenced the modern frame rate of the motion picture, which was standardised at 24 frames per second. This was found to be the best speed to achieve a smooth motion, whilst remaining manageable with regards to quantities of film used, etc. Animation also stays close to this, with a standard rate of 25 frames per second. However, sequences of animation are commonly shot 'On Two's', which means that every drawing will hold for two frames of film, which basically cuts the workload in half. Therefore every second of film requires only 12 drawings as opposed to 24. This is a way of saving time, and reducing the costs involved with producing such features. Fortunately, we are still able to perceive motion at 12fps, however, it it is noticeably not as smooth as an animation produced at a higher frame rate. Of course, if the constraints of budget were not an issue, the possibilities and creative output would become more flexible and interesting

   It is safe to say that The Persistence of Vision is a theory that has helped define an art form. It lies at the heart of the magic that allows moving media to exist and be enjoyed by millions around the world. It's discovery led to a massive leap forward in the development of film and animation, the techniques used and improved upon, and helped the art forms become what they are today.

Here are some cool links to look into:

Victorian GIF's 

Frame Rate Comparison

Interactive Frame Rate Comparison

Frame Rate on Wikipedia 

Peter Roget
 

(All pictures used are the copyright of the relevant owners. No copyright infringement intended.)