One of the things that we've inherited from science is its culture of specialization. To function in a technical culture, you need to possess a great deal of specialized knowledge; without it, you are easily dismissed. The same premise has become a part of the arts as well. I clearly remember one of my undergrad profs criticizing an artwork saying, "it was the same idea I had just seen someplace else. That's why it's important to keep current." Art has become a discourse like science and requires a similar understanding of how one's work fits into a broader contemporary context.
The problem with this idea is the extent to which it makes it easy to be dismissive of others. Placing such a great emphasis on discerning the quality of practice framed through the criteria of a specific discourse often causes us to diminish the voices of other people. We potentially lose shadings and meaningful takes on ideas that we have already deemed naive or irrelevant. It's not like I want to see more artwork about the nature of passion or the ineffability of existence or the alienation of the artist. But we should not automatically dismiss the sum of an artist's thought simply because it begins with ideas that seem to us tired and worn.
Which brings us to Sarah Palin and noise film. The impetus to write this blog entry came when I started trying to understand Palin's popularity. What is her appeal? Why are her advocates so willing to ignore her misleading statements, her poor professional preparation and her vapid interview performances? And it occurred to me that what Palin represents is the voice of people dismissed by technological discourses. Palin's seeming faults (e.g., her misleading statements), then, are simply politics, a way in which she appropriates the grammar of an existing discourse for use against that discourse. Criticisms that she represents a culture of mediocrity only serve to signify the contempt that those in power have for those who are not part of their discursive "elite." Flubs on Palin's part illustrate the fact that she really is an outsider. Palin's reflexive, unthoughtful understanding of leadership shows her refusal to submit to technological authority.
Noise film, then, is Palinesque in many ways. In its barely good-enough craft, it too strains against a culture in which money and the impeccable skills of a trained elite are used to confer a false authority on beliefs. Like Palin, noise film is a homespun product with rough edges. Yet, there is one essential difference. Noise film is an experiment that results in a product existing on a cultural periphery. Palin, on the other hand, is a creature of achievement bent on entering a culture of power.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Speed Racer edited [spoilers]
When I saw Speed Racer at the theater, I remember thinking that the final race scene was barely comprehensible. As color and motion splashed by on screen, I felt that the only thing that helped me understand the sequence was the frequently use of cutaways to Mom and Pops Racer, Trixie, (and others). So last night I made an edit of the final sequence without the flashbacks and cutaways. I wanted to see if the sequence would in fact be incomprehensible. What I ended up with surprised me.
First of all I was surprised to see the rigid structure of the sequence. It's always this: racing, CU of Speed, flashback/cutaway. Racing, CU of Speed, flashback/cutaway. Over and over. So when you cut out the flashbacks and cutaways, you just end up with racing, Speed CU, racing, Speed CU, racing. Not only that, the close ups are basically the same shot: Speed gymbals slightly left or right. What's weird is that the sequence actually seems to make more sense without the cutaways. In fact, it's the cutaways and flashbacks that add a sense of cacophony and urgency to the sequence. Also, without the cutaways, you lose a lot of the feverish emotion of the scene.
There is one part of the sequence that is designed from the ground up to be incomprehensible. It's the part immediately before Speed comes out of the tunnel to win the race. There is some sort of explosion with two cars; I still don't know what happened. All you can make out is that Speed is determined to do something, there's an explosion and flying through the explosion is Speed Racer. It's an interesting, highly abstract sequence.
A couple of other things I noticed: after Speed flies through the explosion to cross the finish line, the car teeters on its front end before skidding to a stop. The animation/effect is really terrible, very awkward. Then, when the Mach 6 finally comes to a stop, you see rubber dripping off a tire which then deflates as if the race was won just in time.
My fascination with the sequence lies in its baroque formalism. There's nothing you need to bring to the scene. It does it all for you telling you exactly what you need to know and what you should be feeling.
First of all I was surprised to see the rigid structure of the sequence. It's always this: racing, CU of Speed, flashback/cutaway. Racing, CU of Speed, flashback/cutaway. Over and over. So when you cut out the flashbacks and cutaways, you just end up with racing, Speed CU, racing, Speed CU, racing. Not only that, the close ups are basically the same shot: Speed gymbals slightly left or right. What's weird is that the sequence actually seems to make more sense without the cutaways. In fact, it's the cutaways and flashbacks that add a sense of cacophony and urgency to the sequence. Also, without the cutaways, you lose a lot of the feverish emotion of the scene.
There is one part of the sequence that is designed from the ground up to be incomprehensible. It's the part immediately before Speed comes out of the tunnel to win the race. There is some sort of explosion with two cars; I still don't know what happened. All you can make out is that Speed is determined to do something, there's an explosion and flying through the explosion is Speed Racer. It's an interesting, highly abstract sequence.
A couple of other things I noticed: after Speed flies through the explosion to cross the finish line, the car teeters on its front end before skidding to a stop. The animation/effect is really terrible, very awkward. Then, when the Mach 6 finally comes to a stop, you see rubber dripping off a tire which then deflates as if the race was won just in time.
My fascination with the sequence lies in its baroque formalism. There's nothing you need to bring to the scene. It does it all for you telling you exactly what you need to know and what you should be feeling.
Theater video projection technique
For the past month or so I've been working on the projections for another theater project. I did a preshow loop, and two cues for the show that ended up being about 10 cues. The producers hired a person to mount the projector. The guy also made a really neat dowser for the projector. It's like a little door that slides up when you pull up the string. This makes life so much easier. Now the stage manager (who's running the show) simply connects her laptop to the projector and pulls up a Quicktime movie. By using the space bar, she is able to stop and go. Then when she needs to change movies, she just dowses the projector and pulls up a new video. SO much easier than the way we did it in the last show. Problems with that show---
1. I should have kept video separate from the audio. We were trying to make it easier for the show runner, but the software we used isn't there yet.
2. It is really easy to make a dowser. Part of the reason the other show was tough was because we were trying to run in true two-screen mode. A dowser is a low-tech, but pretty fool-proff system.
3. Running Quicktime movies out of Quicktime player was easier and cheaper than running out of cueing software. Plus, we were able to use any old computer (in this case a Dell laptop).
4. It was really easy to send updates down. I just sent QT movies via the internet when I had to make changes. No fooling around with cue lists and no having to show up.
1. I should have kept video separate from the audio. We were trying to make it easier for the show runner, but the software we used isn't there yet.
2. It is really easy to make a dowser. Part of the reason the other show was tough was because we were trying to run in true two-screen mode. A dowser is a low-tech, but pretty fool-proff system.
3. Running Quicktime movies out of Quicktime player was easier and cheaper than running out of cueing software. Plus, we were able to use any old computer (in this case a Dell laptop).
4. It was really easy to send updates down. I just sent QT movies via the internet when I had to make changes. No fooling around with cue lists and no having to show up.
Waiting outside the Elephant
[written 2 weeks ago, posted later]
I'm sitting here outside the Elephant Theater waiting for the director to show up. We're supposed to run some video tests today for this new theater project I'm working on. I'm doing a short pre-show video + one other surveillance-style video.
We're still in wait mode on the score. I'm almost scared to talk to Dan and find out how far he's gotten—or not gotten. We'll see. Ben showed Alpha 77 to his brother and new sister-in-law. She said it was "SO Pi." I'm a little afraid that people will pigeon hole it too quickly. But you know, I should have built in some anti-pigeon holing into the video. You know, do an unexpected zig zag. Then the audience is like putty in my hands.
Here's the difference between Ben and me. Ben played me some songs he's been writing. One is about his daughter. I've been circuit-bending some toys. For some reason I just really wanted to do it. I've really been wanting to circuit bend some video. So I bent a Pixel Chix toy I bought a few years ago. It was pretty expensive, $30. But the bend turned out great. I realized that there are two kinds of LCD screens. The really cheap ones have images burned in, like the $1 Space Invaders game I bought at Walmart. There are no pixels in those games, just shapes that blink on and off. Pixel Chix, on the other hand, is pixel based which makes it possible to create some really nice bends. One short leaves the character with a floating head. Another bend creates weird rectangles. I have about five or six bent items waiting boxes.
I was able to get an old circuit working. I forgot what it was originally. Now it has a grid of circles that blink on and off in repetition along with a buzzy noise. I call it the meditator.
We're still in wait mode on the score. I'm almost scared to talk to Dan and find out how far he's gotten—or not gotten. We'll see. Ben showed Alpha 77 to his brother and new sister-in-law. She said it was "SO Pi." I'm a little afraid that people will pigeon hole it too quickly. But you know, I should have built in some anti-pigeon holing into the video. You know, do an unexpected zig zag. Then the audience is like putty in my hands.
Here's the difference between Ben and me. Ben played me some songs he's been writing. One is about his daughter. I've been circuit-bending some toys. For some reason I just really wanted to do it. I've really been wanting to circuit bend some video. So I bent a Pixel Chix toy I bought a few years ago. It was pretty expensive, $30. But the bend turned out great. I realized that there are two kinds of LCD screens. The really cheap ones have images burned in, like the $1 Space Invaders game I bought at Walmart. There are no pixels in those games, just shapes that blink on and off. Pixel Chix, on the other hand, is pixel based which makes it possible to create some really nice bends. One short leaves the character with a floating head. Another bend creates weird rectangles. I have about five or six bent items waiting boxes.
I was able to get an old circuit working. I forgot what it was originally. Now it has a grid of circles that blink on and off in repetition along with a buzzy noise. I call it the meditator.
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