Monday, September 30, 2013

Process Piece





Artists' Statement

Going into this project, we felt a little overwhelmed by the sheer potential for material out there, processes being such an integral and ubiquitous part of life, and recording them a pretty simple thing to do. It was easy to get caught up in this plethora of material. It actually made picking a subject more, not less, difficult. After taking a few recordings of mundane morning and night routines, we narrowed down our options by wanting to try something different: these recordings were rather boring activities that anyone could hear on a given morning.  We didn’t want to pick something too ordinary, or we felt we’d have to remake the wheel in order to be interesting. We also wanted to do something that would engage the ear in this purely auditory piece. Music, and musical instruments, proceeded from here very naturally. The appeal of this process comes from its simplicity, while still retaining a kind of quirky and rare quality. It reveals how music itself, which is very process-like, is itself a product of prior preparation, whether it’s practicing or even a quick tuning up before you can grant the ear a song.  
Watching the clip of Jack White putting together a makeshift, one-stringed slide guitar really brought me towards this musical idea. I felt that all this preparation for a musical instrument led the ear to be more engaged in the process, because it expected an sound-focused product, despite the rather visual process. That visual component set that video apart from our project, but it reminded me of what we needed to do to make the process an interesting one for the ear to actually experience, not for the eye to imagine. The first stroke of the ukulele really surprises the ear with its discord and sets up an expectation for that chord to be resolved, as it almost always is in music. Playing with these expectations means it’s really satisfying when the strings are all tuned up and some really much nicer sounding chords are played.  The strum at the beginning and the strums at the end act as the exposition and resolution respectively in order to make the process feel whole and complete for the listener.
In Music 100 here at BYU, the post-modern era included the very eccentric musician John Cage.  He produced many unique recordings people had not thought of before.  In class, we listened to a few clips of John Cage simply tuning a piano.  It had no musical structure as it was just the tightening and loosening all the stings in the piano to sound the correct notes.  At first, I did not really understand the purpose of this song--if song it could be called.  However, having spent so much time discussing and studying processes, it has more meaning for me.  I respect the idea of processes much more than I did before.  The tuning of the piano is one of the things that really inspired Caitlin and me to record the tuning of a ukulele.  This recording that we took has more meaning to me as well since I know how to play the uke and I’ve tuned it many times before.  I am hoping that with this recording, people can really understand that the beauty of an instrument doesn’t come from just playing it, but from simply working with it and urging it to make a certain sound that the musician is looking for.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Tiny Stories

People chuckled at the sign every day--not the parents, they just clasped their children tighter--but the rest. They never knew: the danger wasn't that the water was deep, but that it was now occupied.


Jim drove--loved--trollies. When the city started thinking about liability for the no-longer-pedestrian, he knew the new orange signs splattered with caution were new allies in his quest for preservation.

"I promise! Never again!" But she just walked away. He took out a knife and starting carving an unheard argument, permanent evidence of something already gone.

It isn't much of a Treasure Island anymore, nothing Pinocchio would recognize, the tour guide jokes. But in remembrance of the most hard-core partying his grandparents ever told him about, the name remains.


It wasn't even working anymore, but more trekked through then would have killed to leave decades before. So much fame. He couldn't resist staining it with the memory of his grandfather, Jacob Nighthawk, who was innocent.


Artist's Statement

When we were assigned this project, I really started to think about words, and how so few must stretch to cover a lot of background, and meaning. This led me to think about some of the most public words we see, usually very succinct, and very anonymous. I wanted to create stories showing some background behind the words we see in the world everyday, about how these words that we usually brush off or dismiss as unimportant might be just the opposite for the people who write them or rely on them or know why they were written. Words can be powerful, and I think we often take them for granted, especially when it's a sign that we only want to get the most basic information from, or graffiti that might just annoy us. So I ended up gathering pictures I'd taken of words that caught my attention throughout some of my trips in the last few years, because words have always interested me--even when they annoy or puzzle me. For example, I've always been a little exasperated with some of the safety signs that are so ubiquitous these days. They often seem quite obvious, even condescending. So I wanted to think of better reasons for them, or people who appreciated them, almost as an antidote to my annoyance.

My first two photos and stories came from that. I've had a little more mixed response to graffiti. I don't like the destruction of property, public or private, and I really hate it when it's just to write something stupid that I've felt I've wasted my life reading, but I really value free expression and the power of words as potentially therapeutic, as it seems some people use graffiti for. When it comes to love graffiti, I always notice it with a touch of irony, wondering how many of these relationships fell through, and yet this one permanent mark remains. The tiny story I made to go with this picture played on that irony, with the carving coming after the relationship had already ended. Next, in another bit of irony, I thought the Treasure Island sign was awesome, when I first saw it; the island, not so much, just bare sand and rock. It was named, though, for historical fairs that took place on it, that were apparently important enough to warrant the creation, let alone the christening, of this island. I wanted that tiny story to reflect on reminiscence, but also how sometimes even official government signs can be deceiving.  The last photo was my favorite, and really helped me flesh out my original idea: it's a picture of Alcatraz, and the graffiti seemed so disparate from what we normally associate with Alcatraz. It also seemed clear to me that the artist/vandal (take your pick) must have been quite determined to get those words up there, since they're large, and high up, and on a government building that's probably more guarded than most. It made me wonder why he or she felt so strongly, made me think of possible reasons. I'm still curious, honestly, and I think that curiosity, more than anything else, made me choose this theme for this project: speculating on the motives behind the words we show to the world.

I was inspired by the reading this week to look at things from a different perspective; that's what struck me most about the tiny stories we read. Their main goal, it seemed, was to make you see the world a little differently in as few words as possible. I've actually read a book of tiny stories, one of the six word memoir books, the one for teens actually, and it seemed like the writers had similar purpose in that book, only the perspective and essence they were trying to encompass was their own. It was almost dizzying for me, reading that book, because there are so many people in there, it was practically crowded. Drawing on both these readings, I wanted to make my stories explore vastly different perspectives, so while they shared a commonality of theme and subject, they went at it in different ways and from different lives.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Music Mosaic











Artist's Statement

For this project, I chose to create images to go with the 2nd movement of Beethoven's 7th Symphony, which I've loved for a long time. In fact, I got to play it in a full orchestra in high school, so going at it from a slightly more creative, less technical angle was really interesting. This song has always reminded me of a slow, forced march, with its repetitive, lilting beat. For that reason, I wanted to show a long, long road through multiple environments in my images. One famous image from the Crimean War, "The Valley of the Shadow of Death" by Roger Fenton, came to mind early on and served as particular inspiration for my second image (see below). The road "goes ever on and on," through harsh environments, as the sun goes down. Depth was important to me in creating this impression of a never-ending path, and further helped parallel the early diminuendos. My favorite attribute of this piece is how often and artfully it switches between major and minor chords, most obviously portrayed in the transition from the main theme to the middle, sweeter part, and back again. In my images, I tried to show this by letting the path go through sweeter places, and one point offering respite in the form of a home. At one point, the woodwinds with their countermelodies reminded me strongly of a brook or river. In the end, though, the main theme builds up again into a fugue. The many different layers of instrumentation reminded me of water again, and the slow majesty of the music reminded me of the ocean. I thought its slow growth was also reminiscent of an incoming storm, as the music grew and boomed. So, the long journey is finally ended in the face of the elements.

As far as medium goes, I chose to use an old fashioned pen and inkwell, as representative of the strict format and old traditions Beethoven was working in (also, how cool is using an old fashioned pen and inkwell?). This also lent itself well to the harsh lines I was looking for in the beginning and end. For color, I wanted to be able to blend effectively, like the orchestra, to create cohesive tones. Crayons worked well in this regard, and also gave me a coarse, almost tangible texture that really pleased me because when I hear instruments playing, especially strings, I can almost hear the bows scraping over the strings, trying to get as warm a tone as possible. Similarly, when I see the crayon texture bounded in by the scratched ink, I can't help but imagine how it got there. It was a challenge drawing, and not something I've ever been used to! I felt, though, that the time it took to conceptualize and execute in this way made me think longer about what I was doing than if I had taken photos or done something I was more comfortable with.





"The Valley of the Shadow of Death" by Roger Fenton

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Thinking and Writing


Kung Fu, a television show that aired in 1972, plunges its main character, the idealized epitome of Eastern culture, values and heroism, into the most Western setting imaginable: the Wild West, in fact. There, where characteristics like boldness and initiative and individualism and, above all, action, are most valued, a Shaolin monk looking for family, not fame, teaches not only the cowboys and settlers around him, but us the viewers, the value of patience, quiet strength, and even passivity. This contrast comes to a head in the episode “Superstition,” where the hero saves the day not through daring action or unique deeds, but through patience and wisdom. In this way, the show emphasizes the value of differing, Eastern schools of thought.
Differences in people are best explored through their interactions, and for this reason the characters in Kung Fu are very important in communicating the show’s ideas on cultural cooperation. From the beginning of the episode, Caine shows calm and meek behavior in the face of unjust greed exhibited by rather typical rough, Wild Westerners, when they frame him to work him in the mines. His ethnic differences are continually noticed and pointed out, in a derogatory way until he proves himself with a more relatable show of strength to that culture: when pushed into a brawl, he uses his Shaolin skills to great effect. “I never saw a man handle himself that way… You learn that in China?” asks a fellow prisoner. “Yes. And other things.” It seems clear that Caine values these other things more, as he continually draws strength from childhood lessons. As the episode progresses, their value becomes clear to his new acquaintance also, who learns to master extreme temperatures and in the end, more importantly, himself. It’s interesting that in one scene of the episode, when Caine stands down from a rebellion of prisoners in a show of patience and value for life, his identity as a “yellowskin” and a “coward” is rearticulated regardless of his previous acts—and even more interesting that the foreman recognizes the danger of the hope and dignity that Caine actually brings to the table. This, of course, leads to the crisis of the episode: the miners become trapped in a cave-in, threatened by loss of air. The miners panic and start to try and dig themselves out, but then, in an act of leadership and heroism that I will always remember for its oddity as well as its efficacy, Caine persuades them all to do nothing, and rely on outside help. This act (or lack of) goes completely against Western instincts, which tend towards bold action, and indeed, the former leader of the miners takes great persuading. In the end, however, this course of non-action saves them all, proving the worth of Caine’s differing principles of strength and wisdom.
            The music of this show is a stylistic reinforcement of the theme: East and West meeting. It draws on musical traits from both cultures to create a sound that uniquely characterizes the show, an impressive feat in a time of comparatively homogenous television scores across the board. This is largely done by the introduction of Eastern chords, such as in the main cue of the show. These are played mostly by Western instrumentation,  most distinctively bowed strings. It also is done through the heavy use of woodwinds, which are identifiable not only with an Asian influence, but are also prominent in the style of the Wild West showdowns and open prairies. The juxtaposition of flutes and reeds occurs many times, which not only creates a precise texture but opens interesting avenues of thought when it comes to disparate things working together to create something surprisingly new and worthwhile.
                        In many ways, the making of Kung Fu and its popularity and acceptance among critics and audiences alike mark the increasing intercultural curiosity that started in the sixties with hippies and the new age movement and grew into an even wider and more accessible trait of American life. It is by no means unmarked by bias or stereotyping—indeed, the main character, who is supposed to be half-Chinese, is played by an actor of completely European descent, and there is some controversy on whether Bruce Lee should have been cast or given more credit—but it shows an appreciation for theretofore undermined values. English speaking culture has for eons appreciated the bold violence in tales such as Beowulf and the initiative and smarts in near contemporary Star Trek. The wisdom and patience of Caine is almost alien in comparison, especially in a young hero, and are valued much more in Eastern culture. The portrayal of these differences and the impact of this portrayal is influenced by the history of Western heroism and the slow discovery of Eastern equivalents when this episode was aired.

            Kung Fu by no means solves the issue of East-West relations, and certainly not in one episode, but then, it doesn’t try to. In fact, it focuses mostly on proving the validity and applicability of Eastern values and cultures as the West was just starting to understand them when the show was produced. By exhibiting these ideals in a thoroughly Western setting, the differences are highlighted not for ridicule’s sake but to more easily appreciate what they have that Western culture may more often miss.