Entertainment

This is a compilation of violent scenes from films. This video is meant as a rhetorical critique regarding the amount and varying degrees of violence being filmed as a means of entertainment. I wonder if a violent scene, even if used with purpose (as, ironically, was my intent for this very video!), serves nothing but to perpetuate and encourage violence itself. I wonder what it says about the state of our society that we not only view these films, but encourage the production of them.

Be advised that this video is extremely violent, watch it at your own discretion.

The following is an excerpt from a previous discussion with a friend…. there is far more and this friend did punch many, many holes in my argument, but I will just post a general glimpse of my inner confusion in relation to this topic.  I do not know what to think, but I do know that I do not think violence in film should be banned.  That said, after making this video and thinking about it, I am not sure if I would ever myself create a certain type of violent film…. or watch and be blindly entertained by violent films in the same manner.  The research that went into the creation of this video made me physically sick. 

I think a problem with cinema, in general, is that it portrays people in black and white, good and bad… and once somebody is “bad” it is somehow okay to smash their head in with a baseball bat. Isn’t it a little odd that often the “good guy” kills far more people than the bad? You don’t think there’s something wrong with applauding death, no matter the circumstance? Furthermore, I think their is a transference of those ideals to everyday life; black and white, us and them, and i think that is dangerous, because it gives “us” justification to kill, an obvious example being war. I’m sure you and I aren’t pro-war, but the fact is nevertheless wars occur. I love that you trust people, but I don’t know if I do, so much around me says otherwise.

It seems that the nature of film encourages us to give more credence to the reason than the fact. Is that right or wrong? I don’t know, but it’s interesting to me…. our evaluation of reason will constantly change, but what is will never leave us. 100 years ago people truly believed that segregating First Nations people into reservations, and filtering their children through residential schools would help ease our cultures together…. now what do we believe? All I know is that it is true that killing is wrong, and if I show it, even if I believe my audience will know better, even if I believe my intentions just, I will never escape the fact that I am showing it.

Just because something is fantasy, it does not mean it cannot affect us or affects us less. Ifanything, I believe it can affect us more! Because as we enjoy these things we absolutely let our guards down. For example, there are hundreds of stories in the bible, parables, that are clear cut fantasy, yet people obviously take those lessons to heart; a metaphor can be more powerful than fact. Further yet, the creator is a person in himself – what does it mean when people choose to fantasize about things like, for instance, “Natural Born Killers?” Is it okay that we are giving people a way to express abusive behavior? Just because you would never do these bad things we see, and I know you never would, is it okay to laugh/be entertained by it? What if somebody is entertained by watching simulated, fake, staged child pornography, is it okay for them to watch that under the condition they would never act on it? How about that genre of extreme torture porn?

There are many examples of children and adults directly emulating behavior on television and cinema. In Norway two children beat another child to death, it was later found that they did so because they were trying to be like the Power Rangers! In the U.S. a teenager shaved his head, and killed his parents after watching “Natural Born Killers.” John Hinkley, an adult, shot Ronald Reagan to impress Jodie Foster, or rather, a character she played in a film (Taxi Driver). You can say that these people are screwed up to begin with, but that is like saying people will kill anyway, why restrict gun access? Furthermore, these instances, and there are many more, are directly inspired by violence in film. That is, I believe that if said violent films did not exist, these specific cases would have never happened. My dilemma is – what happens if I make a violent film, and I find out that somebody, somewhere, killed another directly because of my film? Am I really going to say they would’ve killed somebody, someday, anyway? How could I forgive myself? I know I can’t live life being afraid of the actions my choices might incur on others, but I also can’t make blind choices. It’s a delicate line, I don’t have an answer.

Their was an interesting study I just read about – basically, it analyzed crime rates in the United States, Canada and South Africa between the years 1945 to 1974 when South Africa did not have television whereas both the United States and Canada had television. His results concluded that the homicide rate in the United States increased by 93 percent [and] in Canada the homicide rate increased 92 percent. In South Africa the homicide rate declined by 7 percent. I mean, there are so many things that point to violence in media as a definite problem. Am I going to disregard that, because its not a problem for me?

Critical Review – Stephen Waddell, Contemporary Art Gallery

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”
-Scott Adams

Today I ardently stumbled into Stephen Waddell’s show at the Contemporary Art Gallery.  Considering my  glorious mood (sarcasm intended), I was pleasantly surprised to find myself basically alone.  It was just me and the art. I went in knowing very little about Stephen Waddell or his practice, only having glimpsed briefly a few of his photographs.  I wasn’t excited, but I also wasn’t apprehensive, which, perhaps is the best state to be in when viewing something; alone and without care.  That doesn’t sound very appealing, but I assure you it’s meant to be.

Considering I later found out that the show was intended as a sort of retrospective, featuring many of Waddell’s earlier works in order to give perspective to his more recent ones, I fortunately stumbled into the room full of his earlier works first.  Initially, I was overwhelmingly unimpressed; the first thing that caught my eye, fittingly (I’m a film student), were two super 8 videos being projected on to a couple of walls (at right angles to each other).  So I sat down and let myself watch these videos; one was a series of people, shot from behind, unknowingly being followed, the other a long, over-cranked shot of a person with a shirt over their head, just sitting.  Both were interesting in a voyeuristic way, but made me feel empty.  Being I wasn’t particularly in the mood for empty, I continued around the rest of the room, a series of photographs and paintings.  Although, I couldn’t have cared less for the paintings (in my opinion, lazy Impressionist imitations), I must say the photographs did strike me.  They were beautifully composed, yet the content found within seemed, well, “found;” it felt like street photography, but it did not look it.  I found myself staring at these photographs, and losing myself in a kind of visually beautiful voyeurism.  I had never associated something aesthetically beautiful, or, in fact, any beauty at all with voyeurism, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself having a somewhat unique experience.

This was a good introduction, or warm up, leading into my exploration of the second room, full of Waddell’s more recent work.  Thankfully, there were no paintings here, just an array of physically large photographic prints.  Each single print was colorful and vibrant, beautiful, yet still contained that voyeuristic element.  I found myself entranced, I have always believed in the magic of life, of the random, of the small, seemingly ineffectual things, and here I saw parts of that feeling captured.  Most of the photographs were mundane snapshots into stranger’s lives, for example, a photograph of a woman, looking and walking away, half obstructed by an out of focus tree.  Or a picture of a man simply fishing.  I found myself questioning, curious, as to whether or not these scenes were constructed or directed, but the question concurrently seemed rhetoric; somehow I absolutely knew they were not.  It’s strange how you can look at a photograph and tell whether the subject is conscious his or her  picture is being taken or not, even if only by their posture. 

Interestingly, the piece that struck me most was the only one devoid of people.  I wonder if this says something about me?  Anyhow, the photograph (which can be seen below), is titled, “Pile,” and is basically, well, a pile of of waste.  This photograph struck me for two reasons, the first being that my first thought upon seeing it was, “there will never be a painting as beautiful as this.”  I don’t now agree with that statement, but that’s what I thought at the time.  My second realization was that if I had seen this scene in real life, I most likely would have been disgusted by it, or at least felt impartial.  Essentially, Waddell has succeeded in forcing me to look at something in a completely different way.  

It is fascinating to me how the photograph of something, or rather, the representation, irregardless of medium (film, literature, whatever), somehow transfers purpose, meaning, to it’s subject.  Even me, just writing this review here, rather than telling you how I felt face to face, seems somehow more poignant.  Something always seems inevitably lost in the articulation, but at the same time found, and I think that is one of the things that intrigues me most about art.  There is something about the translation of reality, that almost insubstantial place, that seems so insurmountably far removed – and because it is far removed, that much more profound.  Perhaps that is what grabbed me most about Waddell’s photographs – he has captured the everyday and removed it from the everyday, giving frame to the mundane.

“Life is the art of drawing sufficient conclusions from insufficient premises.” Samuel Butler

 

 

Urinal.

The artist himself may not think he is religious, but if he is sincere his sincerity in itself is religion. - Emily Carr

It interests me that throughout history where religion has been, art also has always necessarily followed (whether it be Russian propaganda films, Byzantine icons, or the Sistine Chapel).  I am not a religious person, in the sense that I do not subscribe to any one conventional “religious” system, but strangely, I would still consider myself “religious.”  That is, I have strong beliefs… even if I am not always fully aware of them; I have conviction, even if I am not always sure how to act.  Emily Carr wrote that “the artist himself may not think he is religious, but if he is sincere his sincerity in itself is religion,” and I relate strongly to that.  Religion is not in a word or a symbol, a painting or a speech, it lives always in one’s own beliefs.

What concerned me most while working on this piece was that very question of belief.  I am at a point in my life where conviction seems a tricky, fickle thing – but an absolutely necessary thing nonetheless.

Just recently, during a media history screening, a film called “Armageddon” was shown.  I found it strange how so many people left, and of the few who did remain, many of them did so only to laugh derogatively at the movie.  I can understand this, I too felt an almost instant sense of…. superiority.  But why?  When judgment comes so easy, it is usually a sign that ignorance is near.  If it is wrong for a “common” person to quickly pass something off as “artsy,” how is it right to pass of another as “commercial?”  Perhaps it is a question of semantics, perhaps not, but I honestly feel that their is worth to be had, knowledge to be learned, in everything, regardless of intent.  An open mind is acceptance, it is strange that in an art school there seems to be so little of it.

“Bad art is always more tragically beautiful than good art because it documents human failure.”

I understand that the backlash is against certain conventions, and blind, ideologically irresponsible decisions (made in the film)…. but, I think, what people fail to recognize is that very reaction is itself convention.  We are spurred by a collective unity.  In this way, “art” is no less a mindless system of thought than, say, Religion or Commercialism, Consumerism or Communism (the “bad” kind).  Like these things, art too seems to have a system of almost taboo arbitrary codes; ways we should think, talk, look, act. What I strive to remember is that this collective identity of “art” has, in fact, absolutely nothing to do with art – Being an “artist” has always been after the fact.

There seems to be a misconceived notion that conviction, belief, and confidence require solidity and foundation… while they ARE a necessary foundation, they should not borrow the connotations of that word.  Belief should never be nailed to the ground, conviction never cemented, rather, they should be in constant negotiation.  Uncertainty is the Mother of all things beautiful and pure. Belief, conviction, confidence – these are things that should be founded on an ocean of constant change.  When judgment is passed without question, judgment should be brought to trial. 

In my piece, formalistically, all in all, there are 10 religions referenced (Christianity [Holy Cross], Judaism [Magden David], Sikhism [Sword, Dagger and Shield], Taoism [Tai-Chi, Yin-Yang], Buddhism [The Dhammachakka], Hinduism [OM], Islam [Crescent and Star], Indigenous Religions [The Quartered Circle], Confucianism [The Trigram], and Jainism [The Swastik Chakra], centered around an outline of Michel Duchamp’s, “Fountain.”  Below is an idea for where I would like to put it and how it would look (though I would be open to other suggestions.)  The only thing I am concerned about is whether the detail within the circle is too fine…. in which case I could take away one of the duplicates and enlarge it (though that would omit Toaism…)… I’ve attached the alternative as well.

 

the kitchen of seeing

(click on panorama for bigger version)

So, something is seriously wrong with my Internet right now. I click on things and weird things happen, the page flickers and reloads repeatedly.  This sucks because I was trying to write about some of the things that interested me conceptually in regards to this panorama, and it all got wiped out as soon as I clicked save.  I don’t feel like writing it all again right now, but any comments anyone wishes to share in general is welcome.  All I’ll say is that it was primarily influenced by Roland Barthe’s essay on semiotics, “The Kitchen of Meaning,” and Martha Rosler’s video, “The Semiotics of the Kitchen.”  

Don’t you hate it when you lose stuff for absolutely no reason?  Its insane! I swear to God, I am like Midas – but everything I touch turns to nothing!  I’m misplacing things left and right!  In fact, I kid you not, the best way for me NOT to lose something is to actively try and misplace it.  It is incredible, I think I am super human.

So, anyway, here’s some more Calvin & Hobbes comic strips I like. Smile.