Response to Loving a Disappearing Image

"Loving a Disappearing Image," reminded me of a conversation I distinctly remember having with a friend on the beach in LA, about his ex girlfriend and the magical instances that had together during their time with one another, and then his profound question afterwards of: "Where does it all go?" In the same essence, you know you loved someone, and they know it too and vice versa, and although it disappeared, does it really ever leave? 

In a more crude and literal sense, this reminds me of the fact of having sex with someone and being friends afterwards. You see them now, and you both know that you two had sex and what it was like, but the sex has in essence "disappeared" although it existed, and the two bodies still exist, but it is gone whether still longed for or not. 

To reign this back into death in regards to the comparison of a deteriorating image with our own deteriorating bodies, our bodies die and many believe our souls live on. Will our memories be with us, or will we leave those materials behind much like the image exits itself? I know it is a bit far fetched to use the image as an example of transcendence into another realm, but would the memory of the image transcend within ourselves? I think that is for the person loving the disappearing image to decide. 

Tony Conrad Doc and The Flicker, 4/27/2017

Tyler Hubby's documentary, "Tony Conrad: Completely in the Present," exceeded any expectations I could have about learning the history and thought process of someone and how their art became so. I believe it does great justice to who Tony Conrad is, where he came from, and what he is all about. Sometimes I hate being as young as I am, because I felt immensely ignorant when not knowing he was a part of the Velvet Underground. Of course, when telling my musician boyfriend later about the screening, he said with crass that "he never thought they were that great," which can be expected, coming from someone who idolizes Dave Mustaine from Megadeth, but I'll digress.

There is some metaphorical spice that can be felt from just watching the documentary, something about being able to recognize Conrad's greatness and the beauty of his work, or at least the beauty of the process of it. When originally watching the trailer in class, I was not impressed, but during the viewing and after, I realized how I am not worthy of even having the right to preconceive judgement of any sort toward Tony Conrad's work, and felt that hard realization of how ignorant I was.

I am not sure of how long it took Hubby to do the interviewing process, but it is wonderful that he tracked down other living members of the Velvet Underground to capture as much reflection that can be given on that part of history that only they can adequately describe. Conrad also had a son with his at the time wife and often muse, although I hate how overused that word is now in today's world, but seeing the way Conrad interacted in an old clip of his son talking to him through the television was touching, because he was including his son on his innovative ways of creating a film. I hope Tony Conrad agrees that Hubby did an excellent job at presenting the many aspects of Conrad and his work.

As for the Flicker, I was incredibly intrigued and almost giggly at the fact that it was described in the documentary in thirds of what peoples' reactions were to the film: some people would walk out, some would stay and later vocalize that they hated it, and another third would watch it and enjoy it or at least report what they saw during the film. It is fascinating that supposedly the brains receptors peak during the viewing, so I was ready to have my own experience. Ken claims to have seen shapes develops, and some of the descriptions from the documentary stated past audience members had even seen a landscape or letters, etc. However, I saw some flashes of colors, mainly red, green and blue. How ironic, I thought, but I so terribly wanted it to morph into some shape or form that I could interpret, but I had to just let it exist as my brain translated.

I am very happy that this is one of the viewings that I was able to make.

Screenings at the Nasher, 3/12/2017

    I can only speak for myself, although I would imagine everyone does this to a degree, and that is the need or want to apply what we are seeing and/or hearing to something we have already seen or heard in order to retain it and react to it with predisposition. However, I am confronting that dilemma when observing these original concepts in film rather than merely seeking their contextualization--and with that said, Trento Symphonia (2014) and Engram of Returning (2016) were two films that took a while for me to process in completely varying ways.

    The collective work of Trento Symphonia and its organized movement of the orchestra depicted demonstrates the intricacy of the film’s intentions. The pleasing view of the group playing music in nature with a beautiful landscape, and how they slowly move in groups and then dissipate, gives a certain amount of tranquility with an underlying constant of contemplation. Obviously, this wasn’t something just slapped together with the bare minimum intent of a simple concept to get across to viewers, but rather it is much more complex and evokes some contemplation, while we are left to infer what else we want to take from it.

The contemplation I primarily interpreted from this film was the theme of existence, and how is it that we each co-exist together in our own realities as individuals, that somehow manage to exist wholesomely together with our own existence being our only perception. The members playing instruments and their “living-music-stands” slowly disappear and grow quiet as the sunsets on the mountains landscape, which both can naturally be compared to each other as the sound lessens and the light darkens, each coming to an end. All things must end, eventually, which also left me with a sudden feeling of doom as the film ended, resultantly thinking of the end of existence.

    The film Engram of Returning was much more elusive and less symbolic, at least from what I was able to honestly interpret. I appreciated the whimsical transitioning between the colors through potential filters or processes that I was not sure of, and the depicted landscapes each made me think something was eventually going to appear. Whether that suspicion was self provoked or from the film, the title did evoke some predetermined ideas of “what” was returning. The definition to “engram,” which I did admittedly didn’t know when watching, is: a hypothetical permanent change in the brain accounting for the existence of memory; a memory trace. Knowing this, I now take away from the film that it mainly involved the psychological effort to draw everything back to a memory, and that this returning of a mindset is reached through lucid clarity that makes things “click” when we understand something new in our own brains, and the process of doing so.

   

Response to Camera Lucinda Excerpt

This excerpt shook my perspective of photography and that yearning to capture the essence of something that no longer exists, which I could relate to directly with my mother also being dead, yet still seeing her mannerisms in her sisters, or a stranger, and finding parts of her although she no longer exists. However, I have not tried to capture those particles of memory in new photographs, because I would feel the same rejection and conundrum of someone or something that could completely resonate as her, without it being her at all. 

"...a photograph is laborious only when it fakes." This quote resonated with me in the relation of what is now photoshop, green screen and other technological ways of digitally altering reality or tricking the eye. It is a beautiful thing, but I agree that the photograph is also violent. Not to dwell on my mother's passing, but I recall before the casket was shut, my stepdad's uncle had a disposable camera and flashed an incredibly invasive photograph of my mother before the casket was closed. I have never seen that photograph, but knowing it exists is incredibly daunting when I think about it. This is one instance of how the force that a photograph possesses can be so powerful. 

As a photojournalist, it is my job to do the easiest utilization of photography: simply document a "copy of reality," but as a fine art photographer, I often do the opposite or at least become quite deceptive with my own "tricks." It is interesting to think that I could go to a thrift store, buy only 70s styled clothes, style someone in such standing next to a 70s car, add some fake lens flare or something resembling a light-leak, and there it would be: a fake photograph emulating a part of history that I have never existed in. To someone who knows little about photography, I could easily deceive one into thinking that photograph was of someone in the 70s, just by the art of deception that photograph so dangerously allows. 

Juxtaposing the trickery, I agree that photography also "puts an end to the resistance" of history, aside from the mythological romanticism many choose to accept. There is no denying of the crying, naked Napalm girl running away from bombs in the Vietnam War that Nick Ut photographed and won a Pulitzer Prize for. There is no denying of the many tear jerking images that can easily be found on Facebook of another animal rescue depicting their discovery of mangy fur and the obvious neglect of another animal due to a lousy owner. Photographs are also used in court cases as evidence, in some jury trials, and as other forms of reliability. The expansive utilitization of photographs only continues to grow in this digital age, but it is not always for the better, sometimes trickery or manipulation of a photograph makes it just as dangerous. 

Intermedia Performances, 4/28/2017, The Green Zone.

I am REALLY happy I got to attend this event. I was fascinated by every performance and even the AI piece. The same approach that I used in the Tony Conrad event holds true here. I knew there were performances and usually I look up the performers and see what kind of art to expect. This night I decided to just find out the night of and not have any pre-conception of the artist or what they may perform. I thought Limited Hangout was fantastic, with their setup and what they use to show an image. I could not help but always wonder in the back of my head on what software or devices they were using to create the visuals and audio aesthetics. I really appreciated the other art talents they incorporated into their piece such as the amination and narration. What they performed is something I’ve always wanted to accomplish but never could due to equipment. So, it was really cool to see something that in person.

I thought that Karine’s performance was beautiful and her voice was so complimentary to the visuals displayed on the screen. I also enjoyed Kristen’s performance. At first, I didn’t realize that Kristen Reeves was going to be there until I saw the projector setup. That was something spectacular to watch and witness in person. I will admit that I did watch her as a performance piece rather than focus on the projections. Just seeing her move throughout the matrix of projectors, loading and changing each one was really nerve racking and satisfying in the end.

Tony Conrad, 4/27/2017, The Flicker.

 I really enjoyed this event for many different aspects. At first I didn’t go in with full knowledge of what the night consisted of and what was exactly going to be shown. I did know it was about Tony Conrad because of our introduction to him in class earlier in the semester. Not to give a full review of the documentary shown by Tyler Hubby, but I thought the documentary was well executed. It’s the kind of film that I enjoy and with a story that grabbed my attention. When I was shooting films back in 2010, this was exactly the kind of film that I gravitated to. When it came to the part of the night where the flicker was being shown. I was scared, thankfully I had Jackie there to hold my hand. My thoughts were, “I don’t think I have epilepsy but I also don’t want tonight to be the night where I find out I do.” I figured I would stay and watch it since we were there already (with an old fashioned in hand). I was semi-upset at the end because I did not see colors or anything in the flicker. I did see some sort of figure developing but it could have been me just thinking I saw something because I really wanted to see something. I was so happy that I didn’t have a seizure though.

Camera Lucinda

What I enjoyed about this piece is that it acts as a dialogue between photographs and the viewer of said photographs. It dives into the complexities of remembrance in relation to pictures and the things that once existed that they captured. I think that the conclusion the author reaches doesn't matter, I think instead what matters is that he was able to delve into those complexities to begin with. This is what I believe is truly important when it comes to both photography and film. It engages the audience and the viewer in an inner dialogue, and allows them to sort out the complexities of their relationship to what they're seeing. Even a simple photograph of a mountain can cause one to think about their experiences with landscapes and stir up memories that they may have associated with similar landmarks. I think this is often overlooked, especially today in the era of mindless TV sitcoms. If one can simply watch something without feeling the need to cognitively engage than I don't think that film can really be called that, and the same could be said for photography.