Sunday, December 6, 2009

Brigador Spinelli, Art Gallery Owner

[A fictional, humorous monologue told from the perspective of a VERY pretentious art gallery owner.]

"Brigador Spinelli, Gallery Owner"

By Christine Stoddard



Welcome to my art gallery--the finest in all the city! No, the finest in all the region--no, the coast! No, the country! That's right, it's the finest art gallery in all of the continental United States of America. Yes, all the major newspapers and magazines have reviewed it. Did you see the latest article in, you know, what's it called? That rather prestigious magazine with the little top-hatted man holding the monocle? Well, you know what I mean.


Anyway, you should feel honored to be here. After all, there are authentic Fallen-Longhorns in your presence. Yes, real Fallen-Longhorns. Not reproductions, but actual canvases. I even have "Conversations with Intestinally Confused Clouds" and "Golden Czech Fruits Floating in the Sun" Right here. Oh, why the quizzical expression? Oh, I guess I shouldn't have used the abbreviated titles. My apologies. I really shouldn't be so casual. I have "Infinite Conversations with Ten Intestinally Confused Cumulous Clouds on a Sunday Afternoon in Paris Before the Fog" right here. And "Forty Golden Czech Fruits Frivolously Floating in the Hot Sun on a Tuesday Morning." Here. In this very gallery. Isn't that incredible?


Don't tell me you haven't heard of Marcus Fallen-Longhorns, Jr. You look like you've never even heard of the name. How dreadful! Pitiful! Impossible!


No, that expression means 'possible.'


Please! Don't widen those simian eyes of yours any wider. I understand. You don't recognize the name. I'm appalled. You don't actually consider yourself a cultured person, do you? You must've stepped foot into my gallery because you heard there was free food. Maybe you wanted a sip of a French wine whose name you couldn't pronounce because you failed Spanish class in the ninth grade and were placed in an extra period of gym instead of being subjected to another foreign language class. Well, I only hand out my sliced rosemary parmesan baguette dipped in extra virgin olive oil to potential buyers. And, just based upon that plaid shirt of yours, I see no potential buyer in you.


I can't believe you came here. You haven't heard of Colton Andy Hersch, have you? You can't even name the latest Georgette Steinberg collage, I bet. I'm embarrassed that people like you even exist. What's your conception of art--the Chuckie Cheese logo?


Step right out this very second! Your K-mart boots are scuffing up my Danish floors. And I don't see scratched hardwood coming into vogue anytime soon.


Thursday, November 19, 2009

Gorelore: Tim Burton and Three Special Effects


Tim Burton is to cinema what Edgar Allen Poe is to literature: a master of the dark, bizarre, and mysterious. Burton's ghostly taste and ‘Goth’ niche in Hollywood are undeniable. Films he has directed and/or produced include: “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street,” “9,” “James and the Giant Peach,” “Batman Forever,” “Cabin Boy,” “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” “Corpse Bride,” “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” “Big Fish,” “Planet of the Apes,” “Sleepy Hollow,” “Mars Attacks!”, “Ed Wood,” “Batman Returns,” “Edward Scissorhands,” “Batman, “Beetle Juice,” “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure,” “Frankenweenie,” and “Vincent.” His influences range from Ray Harryhausen’s animation to early Disney cartoons to Fellini to Vincent Price and more (Cortez 2004). From "Nightmare Before Christmas" to "Beetle Juice," Burton's films usually feature sinister palettes, deep shadows, the topics of love and belonging, and pariahs for principal characters. In order to convey his trademark themes and achieve his unique aesthetic, Burton employs a variety of special techniques. His use of stop-motion animation, elaborate makeup, and dramatic lighting/coloring truly distinguish his films from others made during our age of CGI omnipresence. For Burton, worshipping detail trumps all else. In a time when most animators deem stop-motion animation and puppet films "a dying art,” Burton continues using it because it gives the audience the feeling of actually "being there" (Burton 2008). Stop-motion animation is, according to some filmmakers, one of the most tedious forms of animation (Burton 2008) because it requires the progressive movement of an object between frames every 1/24 of a second. In her 2001 article, "When Art Comes to Life," Amy Porter describes stop-motion animation as a "simple technology" possessing "nostalgic awkwardness" (12). Burton did not direct his most explicit stop-motion projects, like “Nightmare” and “Corpse Bride” in order to remove himself from the “painstakingly slow process" (Salisbury 71) involved.

Burton's most famous stop-motion film is "The Nightmare Before Christmas” (1993), directed by Henry Selick. Claymation, one of the most popularly known forms of stop-motion, entails the majority of the film's special effects. TV specials, like "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and the "Grinch who Stole Christmas," inspired Burton in realizing his poem, "The Nightmare Before Christmas," in film form. His illustrations drew upon the drawings of artists like Ronald Searle and Edward Gorey; Selick's crew then referred to Burton's illustrations for 3-D character and set design. The crew, which consisted of 200 workers, even spread clay and plaster across the set and scratched it so it created the look of pen-and-ink cross-hatching. According to Selick, the film's production design resembled a “living illustration” (Burton 2008). Three to four people built all the “Nightmare” characters in oil-based clay over hand-machined ball and socket armatures. The puppets then had to be molded, injected with a foam latex material, and baked in an oven. Once removed from the oven, the characters’ molding was peeled off and they were sent to the Fabrication Department. In the Fabrication Department, artists attached clothing, hair, fur, and other finishing touches to the puppets; every detail counted, especially for close-up shots. Major characters, like Jack the Pumpkin King and Sally, required additional considerations, including a range of complex facial expressions. The team therefore created hundreds of hand-sculpted replacement heads for Jack, allowing him to display a spectrum of emotions. Similarly, Sally wore interchangeable face masks so animators could manipulate her expressions. They decided against a full head change like Jack’s to lessen the chance of animators accidentally ruining her long, red hair (Burton 2008). Animators could not be assigned their own character(s); instead, all participants had to work as a group and took turns animating characters according to their personal strengths. As an example, certain animators were better at adjusting the puppets for close-up scenes, for instances, while others' talents lied in creating very active motion. Because of the slowness inherent to stop-motion animation, “Nightmare” required almost three years to finish. Every 1/24th of a second required a new, only slightly different puppet pose. Consequently, crew members averaged a mere sixty seconds to one minute of film every week.

Burton’s "Corpse Bride" (2005) relies heavily upon stop-motion animation techniques, as well. In fact, "Corpse Bride" employs much of the same techniques as "Nightmare," relying heavily upon custom-made puppets moving across handmade sets. Differences between the two exist, however. In order to monitor the action of the puppets and ensure sleek movement, the crew shot the entire process digitally, as opposed to using film like “Nightmare.” This allowed to the animators to review individual frames, as well as the overall flow of the project quickly and easily. “Corpse Bride” also depended upon a small amount of CGI, whereas “Nightmare” used exclusively claymation and small bits of second-layering traditional animation.

“Beetlejuice” (1988) ranks third as the Tim Burton film with the most stop-motion animation, employing the method for Hell scenes. "Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure" (1985), the first feature film that Burton directed, also makes use of stop-motion, but to a far lesser extent than the aforementioned films because it is almost entirely live-action. Burton hired Rick Heinrichs, one of his CalArts classmates, for the stop-motion animation scenes (Salisbury 49). "James and the Giant Peach" (1996) features both stop-motion and live-action sequences, but it is primarily an animated film. Other Burton films that evidence stop-motion animation include: "Vincent" (1982) and “Frankenweenie" (1984). Burton's fans are eagerly awaiting his 2010 adaptation of "Alice in Wonderland" (2010), which will, unsurprisingly, feature stop-motion animation techniques layered over live-action sequences.

Though stop-motion is extremely time-consuming and much more expensive than standard computer-generated imagery (CGI), Burton insists on applying the proper medium to the proper story. In an interview with Cinematical, he stated, “…you just do a project... in the medium that fits it and do a good story…It will connect if it's the right thing” (Gilchrist 2009).

Color is another huge element in Burton's films, created by careful lighting and, in the case of his puppet films, pensively hand-painting. On the miniature puppet sets of "Nightmare” the crew used as many as twenty to thirty lights to steepen contrast and elongate shadows (Burton 2008). That represents as many lights as might be used on a live-action Hollywood set, showing that the crew applied large-scale film principals to an elaborate small-scale situation. Besides granting “Nightmare” a Gothic flair, the lights and colors contribute to the film’s symbolism. In Halloween Land, everything appears in gloomy shades because the characters there lack the sincerity, hope, and imagination of a warmer atmosphere. In Christmas Land, the landscape buzzes with all the festive colors traditionally associated with the holidays; the waves of red, green, and gold allude to cheer and optimism. The Real World, where Jack goes to deliver presents, though, is much blander; the houses, the cars, the people--everything is a neutral tone or a humdrum pastel. In other words, reality hovers somewhere between Halloween Land and Christmas Land in terms of faith and rosy sentiments. Crew members in the Fabrication Department hand-painted everything on the Halloween Land, Christmas Land, and Real World sets.

Just as the color palette is very precise in "Nightmare"--with all its carefully chosen shades, "Corpse Bride" also features two main color families that help contrast two worlds through the use of diligent lighting and hand-painting. Life scenes show everything in grays, like tintypes, while Death scenes are much more flamboyant (Burton 2008). The Life scenes therefore come across as uptight and dreary, whereas the Death scenes read as significantly more relaxed and fun. Such a contrast also exists in "Edward Scissorhands.” Black, white, and gray prevail in Edward's isolated castle, which signals one of the reasons why he looks so amiss in the suburbs, where tacky pastels prevail. Edward’s castle is a place of loneliness and old-fashioned taste; the suburbs scream of neighborly attention and gaudiness. The list of other examples of Burton’s color consciousness, from “Sweeney Todd” to “Big Fish,” continues, but another effect essential to Tim Burton films is strange and enchanting makeup. Stan Winston is the man responsible for realizing many of Burton's monsters. For instance, he brought Burton's vision of Edward's glinting hands in “Edward Scissorhands” and Penguin's beak in "Batman Returns” to life. In the book, Men, Makeup, and Monsters: Hollywood Masters of Illusion and Fx, Winston explains that Edward's hands were basically gloves with seven blades attached to each hand (Timpone 48). In order to make Danny DeVito’s penguin beak in “Batman Returns,” Winston created a single-piece prosthetic that extended from DeVito’s forehand to his upper lip; afterwards, Winston smeared Tuttle rubber, greasepaint, and Par paint over the beak . Nappy hair extensions, decaying dentures, and Greg Cannom’s three-finger appliances completed the overall villainous look (Timpone 52).

“Beetle Juice” is another example of a Burton film that employs impressive makeup effects, mostly in the realm of monster prosthetics. Robert Short, who won an Oscar for his work, oversaw all the makeup, including the creature effects that contributed to what the book Ghosts and Angels in Hollywood Film: Plots, Critiques, Casts and Credits calls “a banquet of wonderfully grotesque sights” (Parish 20).

Since the mid-1980s, Burton has forged his own niche with his spooky and fantastical cinematic visions. He draws upon a variety of esoteric influences and repeatedly explores the same themes. The question, then, is how exactly will he leave a mark on cinematic history? How will his pioneering into color/lighting, makeup, and stop-motion effects impact future dark-minded filmmakers? Whatever the answer may be, it is clear that Tim Burton’s reputation for ‘gorelore’ will persist throughout the rest of his career.


Works Cited

Burton, Tim. The Nightmare Before Christmas: Collector’s Edition, Blu-ray release. “Bonus Features.” Walt Disney Pictures, 2008.


Burton, Tim. Corpse Bride. “Bonus Featuers.” Warner Brothers Pictures, 2005.


Cortez, Joe. “Burton Influences.” The Tim Burton Collective. 2004. 9 November 2009. http://www.timburtoncollective.com/influences.html


Gilchrist, Todd. Cinematical. “Interview: Tim Burton.” 2009. 11 November 2009. http://www.cinematical.com/2009/08/05/interview-tim-burton/


Parish, James Robert. Ghosts and Angels in Hollywood Film: Plots, Critiques, Casts and Credits for 240 Theatrical and Made-for-Television Releases. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland and Company, Inc. Publishers, 1994.


Porter, Amy. “When Art Comes to Life.” MoMa, Vol. 4, No. 8. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 2001.


Salisbury, Mark. Burton on Burton. London: Faber and Faber, 2006.


Timpone, Anthony. Men, Makeup and Monsters: Hollywood’s Masters of Illusion and Fx. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996.



Sunday, November 1, 2009

Podcast Note!

BeYourArt.com recently discussed my article, "How to Promote Yourself as an Artist Using the Internet," during one of their podcasts. You can listen to it here.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Interview with ThisZine

1. First of all, what exactly is The Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival? What type of art is included? Is it only visual art or is there performance art, poetry, etc?


The Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival is an annual event that brings performing, visual, and literary artists from the D.C. metropolitan area (including Baltimore and Richmond) to showcase their talents in one evening. It focuses on local work appropriate for a general audience and gives artists an opportunity to sell and promote their work. Furthermore, there is no judging process and artists pay nothing to set up and sell their work. The space is nurturing, creative, and free.


2. On the festival's website, you talk a little bit about why you decided to start the festival. Can you speak more to that? What need did you see out there that led you to devout an enormous amount of time and energy into this project?


Up until I went off to college, I lived in the D.C. area my whole life. My parents still live there, so I still visit on a regular basis. Starting around 8th grade, I became a lot more aware of the local arts scene. That's also around the same time that I became really engrossed in 'zine and alternative arts culture. Needless to say, I was disappointed with what D.C. had to offer in that respect. Of course independent venues exist there, but, as a percentage, they are far too few in my opinion. Most of what D.C. offers is established, deep-pockets art. Think the Kennedy Center. Think the Smithsonian. Think the National Gallery. While these are wonderful institutions that I wholeheartedly support, D.C. needs smaller, more grass roots companies and organizations for real, working artists--not only the dead and the world-renown. The Greater Indie Arts Festival's aim is provide just that: help for local artists to bring attention to their work and hopefully a little money their way.


3. This seems like an enormous undertaking. Do you have a network of volunteers or interns who support the festival? How does someone get involved with that? How much of your time are you dedicating to putting this on and making it a success?


This year is going to be completely different from past years. In the past, I have worked with about 20 volunteers. I am trying to kick up that number to 60-80 this year. I am also seeking an intern, which would be a new addition to the event. Anyone interested in speaking to me about these positions should email me at stoddard.christine@gmail.com. I have no way of calculating how much time I'm putting into this year's event; so much is changing from the Neo-Indie Arts Festival, the now-defunct predecessor to this event. In the past, however, I only began planning a couple months before. Now I'm starting a year in advance.


4. How many artists participated in the previous year's festival? How did you find/recruit the artists who participated? What can artists expect out of their participation?


In the past two years, about thirty artists have participated in each annual event--and I hope to increase that number this year. I've the artists through a variety of ways, mainly word of mouth and online social networking sites. In the past, I have literally worked on no budget, but that will change this year, so I expect to take advantage of new advertising strategies. Participating artists can expect networking opportunities, local exposure, and the chance to promote and sell their art. The event, given that it's filled with music, paintings, theatre, and more, is also just plain fun.


5. From my experience, things like this take a lot of time and money. How did you find both time and money to support the festival? I imagine a lot of befuddled looks and curious faces when your approached folks about it. What did your family say when you told them about your idea?


I was very lucky in that Thomas Jefferson Community Center in Arlington, VA was willing to donate us space and facilities for free. This year, however, I'm searching for a Metro accessible location, likely in Rosslyn or Chinatown. That will require a lot more money and therefore a lot more time. Thankfully, I've built up a network of interested parties over the past two years, so I'm crossing my fingers for major assistance in organizing fundraisers and soliciting donations. They'll begin as early as this fall/winter. My family has been completely supportive, especially my lovely mother who really gets excited about the festival sometimes. She's the one who first advised me to turn it into an official 501(c)3 non-profit, which is what I'm doing now!


6. What future goals do you have for The Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival? In terms of types of art or number of artists participating or length, etc.


My goals is to have about 80-100 participating artists all showcasing their talents in a Metro-accessible location for one afternoon/evening. I want local artists, especially young, independent ones, to get recognition for their efforts and talents. Washington, D.C. is an astounding city for many reasons and I'm very thankful to have grown up where I did, but I do feel the indie arts scene is rather lacking. Most of the city's art revolves around very established institutions, like the Kennedy Center and the Smithsonian, so it's very difficult for new artists to get noticed. That's why so many artists I know end up re-locating to New York, Philadelphia, or Chicago. Of course it's hard for artists to get noticed anywhere, but it seems like it's easier in some places than others for young artists to just set up an art gallery or start up a new publication if they have the money and ambition; D.C. is certainly not one of those easy places.


7. You're an artist yourself. What type of art do you make? Where do you get your inspirations as an artist? Any great influences you'd like to acknowledge?


I am a writer, performer, and visual artist with a penchant for combining my talents into interdisciplinary projects, like collage, comics, film, and theatre. Words are my central focus, so all of my projects from a certain point on in my career explore the power and beauty of language in one way or another. I get my inspiration from everywhere, but here's a short list: world cinema, Gothic fashion, 'zines, pantomime, foreign languages, the Middle Ages, medical illustrations, circus posters, old cartoons, fairy tales, Japanese culture, the Victorian age. I'm much more inclined to admire individual works than artists as a whole; I have no single overall favorite artist. For instance, I like a lot of Tim Burton's work, but not all. A few artists whose have produced some work I enjoy, though, would include Sarah Ruhl, Romare Bearden, Josiane Balasko, Edgar Allen Poe, William Faulkner, Joseph Cornell, Jim Henson, and David Lynch. But this interview is about GWIAF--not me! You can learn more about me as an artist and my creative projects at www.christinestoddard.com.


8. Do you see the internet and technology shaping the future of art? In what ways?


Definitely! I have interned at The Washington Post website, as well as Richmond.com, and edit/contribute to Associated Content.com in addition to running my own blogs, so I know firsthand how much the Internet and technology are shaping the future of art. There are things I have written, drawn, recorded, photographed, or shot specifically for the web because I know it would not work in a print-based or gallery-based format.My boyfriend is studying Kinetic Imaging at VCUarts, where his entire B.F.A. program studies the intersection between art and technology, specializing in digital multimedia. We are able to render images, combine words and images, and network with other artists and patrons of the arts like never before. I sincerely hope that the tangible, physical aspect of art never, ever disappears, though. That realness, that ability to participate in art in some way is part of what lures in so many admirers of the arts to begin with.


In terms of how the Internet will specifically impact the Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival, I have already mentioned how heavily we rely upon social networking for advertising. That dependency will certainly continue.


9. I know some folks who think that art is great but ultimately non-essential. I think this mentality can carry beyond personal opinion into public policy, for example striking arts programs from schools. What are your thoughts on the importance of art in our culture and society? What would you say to someone who thinks that art is a non-essential in the world?


Art is the ultimate self-improvement book and video package. In the words of Rilke's poem, "The Archaic Torso of Apollo," art prompts us to change our lives. Art points out the flaws and hypocrisies in our thoughts and doings, and guides us toward a purer, saner way of living. To say that art is ultimately non-essential is to say that we should never examine our lifestyles; we should never think about where our actions are leading us and how those actions affect others. It's saying that we should always accept the status quo, even if it doesn't make any sense, and that we should do what we want without regards to personal and communal goals or morality. That same kind of mentality discourages us from attempting to understand our fellow man and his struggles. That's the kind of mindset that starts wars. If that's what a life without art produces--blindness, immorality, listlessness, violent conflicts--then I want no part of it. That's why I am an artist and I am trying to get the Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival the funding it needs. We as humans need art because we should care about ourselves and our brothers and sisters at least that much.



10. From what I read on your websites, it seems you're working hard to pursue your dream of being an artist, something that's inspiring for others out there who might be considering working in the arts but who are afraid to do so because success in the art world looks very different from success in say, the business world or in law. What would you say to others, especially young women, who are considering a path in the fine arts?


I would say, first off, don't get discouraged but also be realistic about how hard you are willing to work. True artists are passionate about their art and regularly experience creative impulses that make it almost impossible for them to stop sometimes. Carry a sketchbook or journal with you always. That way you can jot down ideas when they come to you, instead of waiting to get back to your dorm or studio. Check out websites like Craigslist for local gigs as often as you can to try to get involved in professional projects at an early age. I have been profiting from my art since eighth grade, so it's not impossible to begin submitting to magazines and galleries when you're young. Set up your own website, even if it's only a blog, and update it often. Put up samples of your work, but not everything you've ever created, either. Learn how to market yourself. Make smart decisions about your friends--beware of the poser art kids who just want to do drugs and have sex at every hour--and how you spend your free time. All in all, love what you're doing and do whatever you can to ward off laziness. You must couple your talent with a solid work ethic.


11. If folks are interested in submitting to the next Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival, how can they do so? Is there a date set for the next festival? Other information to this end?


Please contact me! Email me at stoddard.christine@gmail.com or send me a letter: 3917 Fauquier Avenue, Richmond, VA 23227. I love receiving mail! Try to include links to/samples of your work, but, remember, GWIAF lacks a juried process. As long as your work is appropriate for a general audience (13 yrs.+), we'll gladly invite you to display it, read it, or perform it. There is also a Facebook group, The 2010 Greater Washington Indie Arts Festival, which I encourage you to join. I am currently recruiting Board of Trustees, employees, and volunteers, so if you're willing to help, I want to hear from you. I am still settling the date and location for the festival, but those details will hopefully be available within the next two months.


12. Final thoughts you'd like to add about yourself, the festival, art, or anything else?

Thank you so much for taking the time to interview me and post my answers! I appreciate the publicity.


Pick up the Extra Pilgrim Outfit If You're Not an Indian: Cooperating with Other Creative Minds

[Originally published in Reality Check Girl magazine.]


The art school variation on the old cliché "Too many chefs spoil the broth"? Too many painters turn the Realist mural into a bad Jackson Pollock imitation. Don't let your student art or media group splatter gratuitous proverbial colors. Because pink plus green plus blue plus purple equals brown, the same shade as a certain matter that toilets are designed to hold. You want gold, not that other...stuff.


As a film student in a competitive cinema program at a top art school, I am well acquainted with the emotions that cook up when several creative minds come together on a project. Whether you collaborate on a magazine, a play, an gallery show, or any other artistic endeavor, the risk of hurting feelings and tearing apart egos is astronomically high. After all, you are dealing with mostly people who are inherently passionate, moody, spontaneous, sensitive, and proud. Combining too many of them in one room for long periods of time, where their talents all rival one another's, can be dangerous. Keep in mind that the opportunities to learn and grow as an artist and human being are potentially very great, but only if you and the rest of the group are willing to learn and grow together.


Let's say you're in charge of leading a creative project. This is either a very fortunate or a very unfortunate position, depending upon your natural demeanor and past experience managing people. Rely on your smarts, your organizational skills, and your compassion, though, and don't lose confidence. If you're lucky, you might actually have a fighting chance at getting your writers, illustrators, actors, photographers, and dancers to listen to you for a second.


Never forget your numbers. Generally, that means focusing on 1) people, and 2) money. Begin by deciding exactly how big of a group you need to complete your project. The smaller, the better, as long as everyone is comfortable with and capable of carrying their workload. Realize that anytime you propose a glamorous project, you initiatially gain a lot of interest. Determine early on who's truly serious about seeing the project from start to finish, or at least understand what each person can and is willing to contribute. We have all met posers and pathological resume-builders and, likewise, even the kindest of souls have underestimated others' talents. Depending on how professionally oriented your project is, whether or not you are paying participants, and how many people you need, create an actual application process. You can begin with a general interest meeting where people can come ask questions and decide whether or not they can/want to be part of the project. The next steps are much more subjective. You can ask interested parties to submit resumes, references, essays, and portfolios. Maybe you need them to come in for interviews or auditions. Obviously you don't want to hire someone who's never drawn more than a stick figure for your portrait artist. Whatever you do, try to see samples of their work early on and figure out how they can be serve the project as a whole. They will ultimately surprise you for the better or worse, unless you are already familiar with their capabilities and work ethic. In that case, hopefully they do as well (or better than) as you expected!


Of course you cannot lead every project, no matter how brilliant you think your ideas are. Occasionally, at least, you won't direct the student film, you won't write the feature article of the campus magazine, your sculpture won't be the focus of the exhibit. But playing the part of follower every now and then has its benefits. First off, it provides an excellent opportunity for you to observe the creative process. You can learn a lot about how to lead people by watching a natural leader in process barking at--ahem--politely instructing her group. Secondly, you only have to worry that you are doing your best to achieve the project's goals. You can completely dedicate yourself to your part, without dividing your attention very much. Thirdly, there's less stress involved. You don't have the whole future of the project riding on your spine. That doesn't mean you should make any less of an effort, but it does mean you can relax a little...even if gray hairs complete your non-conformist look. The downside of not leading is that you do have to listen to someone else's orders. You don't necessarily get to voice all of your opinions because the rest of the group probably won't value your ideas as much as the director/editor/curator's. Sometimes that means picking up the pilgrim costume when you had crossed your fingers for that squaw role.


All in all, whether you are a leader or a follower, it is important to understand your project's mission from the beginning and take every possible step to ensure that you meet your vision as a group. Even if there are forty of you working together, each with her own idea about to best examine an issue using your particular artistic medium, that does not matter. One interpretation and one plan must prevail in order for project to get to the stage, or the press, or the display wall one day. Save your vanity for the bathroom mirror.

The Celebration of Womanhood in Stan Brakhage's Window Water Baby Moving

When feminist filmmaker Maya Deren denounced Stan Brakhage’s twelve-minute film, “Window Water Baby Moving” (1959), as an infringement of birthing rituals’ female exclusivity, she misinterpreted the film's celebration of women and motherhood as well as underestimated its potential power in improving women’s status in Western society. The silent film centers on Stan Brakhage’s pregnant wife, Jane, before, during, and after labor with an occasional glance at Stan’s reactions, as he plays himself during the movie. The work, therefore, is at once documentary and art house. This hybrid form allows it to achieve a certain eloquence without detracting from the painful realities of childbirth. “Window Water Baby Moving” explores the concept of women’s involvement in pregnancy and birthing in nothing but a flattering and appreciative light that helps male audiences better understand motherhood and their duties as fathers. The film is inherently a feminist work because, instead of demeaning women by ‘othering’ their wombs and vaginas, it praises them for their body’s ability to bring new life into the world.


Deren’s main contention with the film lied in its alleged assault on a pregnant woman’s private, very feminine life. In his book, Underground Film: A Critical History, Parker Tyler describes Deren's reaction to “Window Water Baby Moving” as such:


"It was a little astounding to hear a senior member of the avant-garde ranks so 'anti' about a modest film done in perfect good faith, but Miss Deren was objecting that woman's privacy had been deliberately, tactlessly invaded. Human birth, she declared, is a mystery and especially a feminine mystery. Though herself a scholar

of primitive ritual, she did not sympathize at all, here, with the male couvade that Brakhage was celebrating." (Tyler 37)


Perhaps Deren’s strange relationship with her domineering father (Brakhage, Film 92) influenced her idea that men should distance themselves and not partake in the birth of their own children. Perhaps since Deren was never happy in her own two marriages and never had children (Brakhage, Film 93), she cannot fathom the comfort of having her husband being compassionate and useful during her hypothetical pregnancy. But she should not have permitted her personal history to deprive women and their curious husbands from experiencing pregnancy as a team. Dominant modes of feminism would resist the idea of any mystique surrounding allegedly "sex-specific" qualities altogether. Deren’s belief in the preservation of 'feminine mystery' does not help women in their advocacy for fair treatment and equal rights. Such a creed only further alienates women in the minds of men who wish to accept the idea that significant intellectual, emotional, and psychological differences exist between the sexes, and that separation of men and women in real life is necessary. If “Window Water Baby Moving” is at all invasive, it is so only in the sense that it tries to accomplish so much good for women in bettering their image as breathing receptacles for life.


Just as assertive, feminist-minded women have been called pioneers, Brakhage's film was brazen and counter-culture for its time. One of the reasons why "Window Water Baby Moving" should appeal to feminist sentiments is because it shattered the misogynist taboo surrounding mothers-to-be. When "Window Water Baby Moving" was first released in 1959, Western men typically did not witness the births of their children. It was not until the baby had fully left its mother’s body, was completely wiped of all mucus, checked for deformities, and wrapped up nice and neatly in a blanket that the husband was even permitted to see his adorably packaged child. Until then, husbands wandered off to a waiting room while doctors and nurses hovered over their wives behind the secrecy of closed doors. Husbands distanced themselves from their laboring wives because society made them believe pregnancy was repulsive. It was repulsive because it was distinctly female. Brakhage does not seem to share that belief, if his film and his autobiographical character in the film is a true representation of himself. Throughout the film, Stan caresses his wife's bloated abdomen in a very intimate, loving, and respective way. He also smiles very warmly. All of the efforts Brakhage makes to depict pregnancy and birth, as shall be discussed in ensuing paragraphs, place women in control of what he also colors as a very beautiful circumstance.


Admittedly, the film is very graphic, especially by mainstream, 1950s America's standards. Just because it is raw and bloody, does not mean it is repulsive, as men during the period perceived pregnancy. Random House Dictionary's first definition of ‘repulsiveness’ is something "causing repugnance or aversion." Yet, except those who are particularly sensitive to the sight of blood, the film hardly pushes audiences away. Rather, it draws in the audience because of its poetry and unusual perspective: a man entering what has traditionally been perceived as women's territory. Because Brakhage portrays birth as lovely and natural, and therefore not repulsive, he privileges women. Men may contribute to the formation of life, but only women can feel the heartbeats of their children fluttering within them.


Men's involvement in their children's early lives simply cannot compare to that of women, as Stan recognizes and even envies to an extent. Through Brakhage's use of montage, the audience sees constant flashes of Stan stroking Jane's protruding belly. On one hand, Stan's act is endearing, but on the other, it seems to allude to a warped version of Freud's Penis Envy concept. The hand to the stomach appears over and over, so that occasionally the image persists even after it has disappeared from the screen. The effect is subliminal, just like the regular flashes of Jane's pregnant silhouette before the bathroom window. Jane is not the mere object of hungry male eyes in the Berger sense (i.e., Ways of Seeing). Brakhage raises her to religious heights. In the ultra close-up shots of Jane's face, her large, expressive eyes and straight nose echo Eastern Orthodox icons. Even if that reference were, for whatever reason, discounted altogether, Brakhage writes in his essay, "The Camera Eye," that film is a "religion" (Brakhage, Essential 14), so by featuring Jane in the film, he automatically idolizes her. He worships her body as a vessel for life. Worship always entails some kind of longing. In this case, it signals his longing for his inability to give birth, which is a longing he believes other men should experience.


Brakhage's distinctive stylistic choices throughout the film reinforce his fascination with birth and his respect for women's main role in it. From his selections in lighting to montage to talent to composition, Brakhage repeatedly draws in feminist connotations. First off, each unit of the title, "Window Water Baby Moving," pays homage to womanhood. The window symbolizes the birth canal, through which all humans came through into the world before the invention of the Cesarean section. From water, all life originated. Furthermore, in ancient Greek and Roman medicinal philosophy, water represented femininity. Babies evidently come out of women's bodies and the word "moving" euphemistically describes the production that is labor. It may also refer to how women are largely responsible for the movement of the cycle of life or how the pregnant body moves through various stages as the baby grows.


Secondly, in examining the film's positive attitude toward women, consider that Jane goes au naturel throughout the work. She wears no make-up; her hair hangs straight down, showing no signs of chemical processing or even a bobby pin. Her body hair remains unshaven, except for her vulva during labor, but that was a matter of medical, not aesthetic reasons (the hairlessness would have made seeing and feeling the baby easier for the doctor). This costume/wardrobe detail implies that Jane resisted any social pressures to conform to the 1950s standard of the over-coiffed, painted, and corsetted housewife because she was a strong, confident, and free-thinking woman. Brakhage could have chosen a model or movie star, but he cast a real, natural woman as his muse: his wife. Jane may not be June Cleaver, but Stan still reveres her unconventional looks because pregnancy and the act of birth make her beautiful in a way that must be captured on film. In his essay, “With Love,” Brakhage discusses the fundamental femininity of art and the muse (“…yet each source of inspiration, creatix of impulse throughout, is woman—the muse is female” [Brakhage Essential, 127]), but he seems to see an especially inspiring magnetism in Jane’s simple, natural pregnancy.


A third feminist detail in the film requires a wider stretch of the imagination: the tub represents a womb. It, like Jane’s abdomen is bulbous and full of water, the compound that largely fills the uterus and supports all life forms. The red bathroom lighting, which casts a fleshy glow upon the bathwater, creates the illusion of blood, which both alludes to one of the womb’s natural fluids and foreshadows the blood lost during labor. Stan bonds with his wife in this metaphorical womb as he strokes her belly, showing that it does not scare or ‘repulse’ him. He does not alienate her because of her pregnancy and is still willing to touch her, kiss her, and enjoy his time with her. In fact, pregnancy attracts Stan so much that he is willing to enter the womb (i.e., the tub) and become part of the pregnancy to the biggest possible extent. This is what Parker Tyler described as Stan’s approximation of a couvade (37). A couvade is a practice in some non-Western countries where husbands attempt to sympathize with their wives immediately after the birth of their baby. The husbands accomplish this by lying down, complaining of labor pains, and then receive the same care and attention usually reserved for pregnant or laboring women.


[Read the rest of the essay by clicking here.]




Monday, August 31, 2009

Notes from Art School: The Campus Paper Doesn't Have to be a Snoozefest

[This piece is scheduled to appear in The Reality Check Girl Magazine in October 2009, the first publication to run "Notes from Art School" in the series' history.]


This advice probably appears in some Type A-driven career preparation handbook somewhere: "A natural extracurricular activity for English and arts majors unsure of how to lucratively apply their creative skills is a job with the campus publications office." It's such a common sense statement that it's in line with, "Try really hard not to fail your classes" and "Find out what Greek Life offers outside of beer pong frenzies." Yet some English and arts students need to see these words printed upon an authoritative-looking page before they consider filing out an application for their school paper, magazine, or literary journal. If you're skilled at writing, drawing, photography, and/or graphic design, though, why wouldn't you get involved the moment the publication calls its first meeting? Call me harsh, but I always thought that the point of being an artist of any kind was to make art, not just sitting around wishing you did. (On the other hand, I don't applaud people who churn out passionless, uninspired pieces by the dozen because they're afraid that the art they really want to produce won't bring in a paycheck. However, it seems that far more English and arts students suffer from Aesop's Grasshopper Syndrome than the Ant's problem.)


Thankfully, I know plenty of other English and arts majors who see a chance to showcase their talents and up their probability of snagging a rewarding post-graduation job while informing and entertaining their fellow students at the same time. Within that pool, a wide range of artists and writers of all styles, genres, and creative approaches exists. Anyone who has worked in a student publication before is familiar with the factions between category editors, or the battles between the "artistic" and the "journalistic" camps. You've met the Sports writer, the News Editor, the Food Critic, the Fashion writer, the Serious Journalism Photographer, the Movie Critic, the Copyeditor, the Lay-out Designer, the Artistic Photographer, etc. If you've worked in student publications for a while, you've learned the stereotypes and have likely developed a couple of your own, whether you want to admit it or not. Even if you haven't, then it's likely your staff has tried to squeeze you into a stereotype or two. That doesn't mean you should be comfortable with how your staff labels you. Most labels make most people uneasy most of the time.


Resist such labels by more clearly defining yourself within your official campus publication title--or your rumored one. Not only can you, but you should if you ever hope to stand out on the staff. When it comes to my school newspaper, for example, I could be just another comic artist. In terms of the stereotype, that would mean someone incapable of being serious, someone who constantly misses deadlines, and someone obsessed with a "low-brow" art form. Instead I'm the pen-and-ink, fairy tale-loving feminist cartoonist--how's that for specialized? I touch on, at times, very serious topics with a sense of humor, never miss a deadline, and explore a range of interests outside of comics that help influence the art and writing that go into making a cartoon. Thus, I have formed my own niche and forged a recognizable series.


You, too, can earn a campus name for yourself by producing quality work with flair that really distinguishes your art or writing from other pieces in the publication. Begin by choosing a focus and a mantra. That focus should be a subject you can't possibly exhaust, something where you can always find a new angle that excites you. Your mantra should be that little voice in the back of your mind that always tells you the most moral and effective way to present a piece. Discuss story or visual ideas with your editor by pitching ones that best appeal to your "print personality." Then set up a realistic schedule for yourself, so you have enough time to make memorable pieces that in one way or another concern your campus. (Note: you do not have to interpret this concern very literally. In fact, the more figuratively you look at it, the more interesting your results may be. Who knew the biography of the 89-year old farmer who sold your campus cafeteria its dairy products after all?)


If you form a vision, work hard, and meet your deadlines, the student body might even begin to anticipate your art or writing. Heck, they might even start chatting about your work online, and post it up in their lockers and dorms when it finally comes out because they love it so much! Your editor may respond to that frenzy by somehow highlighting your work in future publications. S/he might give you the front page or the space "above the fold" or request more eye-catching lay-out for your piece than was devoted in the past. The more effort you invest into the art and writing you submit to your school newspaper, the more your clip portfolio will expand and the more you will have to show potential employers for internships and jobs. By your Junior or Senior year, if not sooner, you will not merely be a staff member. [Cue heroic music now.] You, not the funny birth control advertisements, will be one of the reasons why students pick up that particular publication.


Maybe I'm glorifying the matter and presenting the ideal scenario for a young English or arts major who would otherwise lounge at home and watch David Lynch films if it were not for the campus newspaper. Or maybe I'm somewhat Machiavellian and just have a knack for always seeing the ambitious, productive path because I'm terrified of becoming another hopeless, starving writer-artist. Maybe you, fellow English or arts major, should be terrified, too, and hop on that chugging train that is your campus publication. Get on in time and you'll get off in time...happily and safely, with clips in hand.