Kate's Uncanny/Internal Sourcing Reaction

As I was reading the Internal Sourcing article, I realized that I had seen Pippilotti Rist's piece, Ever Is Over All a long time ago without realizing it.  I remember standing there for much too long, watching the video and wondering what the thought behind it was.  It was such an unexpected treat to discover some of her underlying intentions through this article.

I've included a pretty low quality video of the piece, just so you can get a better idea of what it looked like. The description was clear enough that it jogged my memory, but it left something to be desired.

I've been struggling to think of a way to tap into myself for this internal project, and reading this article didn't get me anywhere. That makes sense, so I'm not as frustrated as I normally would be. I think the most useful thing we could do is just scribble down any thought that comes to us this week, and sift through it later for ideas for our next assignment. Freud style! Which brings me to The Uncanny...

Freud Quote of the Week:"This often happens that neurotic men declare that they feel there is something uncanny about the female genital organs. This unheimlich place, however, is the entrance to the former Heim [home] of all human beings, to the place where each one of us lived once upon a time and in the beginning."

At first I bristled up over this, but after stopping to digest what Freud wrote, I began to see what the implications of that thought are.  Freud is pointing out that these men consider the vagina and womb to be strange and otherworldly, despite the fact that they emerged from their mother's bodies after residing there for nine months.  This familiarity is repressed by the men, which makes them claim the vagina is uncanny.  

Dear Freud, 

I would like to put forward my own theory:  Girls think penises are just as

 uncanny, but we didn't live inside one for nine months, so I think it's probably just because they're funny-looking.

Love, 

Kate

PS I went to Washington, DC and all I saw was a giant white phallus.  Thanks a lot.

Lauren: Exhibition review #1

‘Masters in Clay’; Peter Voulkos and Toshiko Takaezu
The Museum Building at Grounds for Sculpture
Date of visit: September 20, 2008

While visiting Grounds for Sculpture last month I had the opportunity to see an exhibition of two clay artists, Peter Voulos and Toshiko Takaezu. The setting of the exhibition in a modern, sterile building was a big contrast to the organic and open feel of Grounds for Sculpture as a whole.

Toshiko Takaezu throws on a wheel and creates sublime, organic sculptures that have the symmetry of a vase but are closed at the top. They’re very organic and strange, and I wish I could have seen them in a more natural environment instead of the sterility of the gallery. They almost reminded me of ancient sculptures or totems; they had a very primitive but sophisticated look about them with no unnecessary flourishes. The glazes were subdued and natural, and the shapes were fairly simple and unassuming, not at all delicate. It’s difficult to single out any particular work because each one seemed to be a part of a series of the same idea; though the size and shapes varied slightly, the collection of work was very cohesive and at times repetitive. I saw this gallery before we began to study Freud, but Freudian thoughts came to me nevertheless when I was viewing her work. Each sculpture has a smoothly rounded top, with a small nub protruding from the very center. I don’t know if this is an inevitable result of the throwing process (ceramics aren’t my forte) or, probably more likely, intentional, but they all evoked the images of a breast and nipple. It’s possible that this was intentional, because it would tie in with the earthy, natural, somewhat reverent feel of the pieces—a tribute to the idea of clay coming from the earth, which is personified as the mother.

Overall, the work was not really my style, but I found it very interesting and beautiful in its own way.

Lauren: The Uncanny, Internal Sourcing

Internal Sourcing:

I could relate more to this section on a personal level and found all three artists discussed interesting in their own ways. Rist was a bit too offbeat for me—I hate the idea of love-starved maidens so her whole platform annoyed me. But I found the end paragraph of her article interesting because of how it mentioned that she was now married with children, and how her new position of finding love in her life might affect her work. This is truly a conundrum: if your work stems from emotional turmoil, does being content make you a bad artist? I think of the musical artist Tori Amos, whom I have been a fan of since I was a kid. Much of her early work dealt with emotional turmoil that results from a rape and multiple miscarriages, but ever since she finally had a daughter her music has been lacking something. Happy Tori isn’t as good of an artist as Angry Tori. It seems so typical in a way, because I think there is a stereotype that some artists feed off of misery.

LaVerdiere and Harrison interested me more on a personal level, in terms of approach. I loved how LaVerdiere incorporated unnoticed or underappreciated historical facts into his inspiration, and how Harrison was fascinated by the primal relation of the animal to our psyche. These two combined are sort of how I work; I think it’s a mistake not to be inspired by the facts of the world around us and it’s a little sad, sometimes, to see other fantasy artists so caught up in mythical creatures that they don’t take time to appreciate real ones. This world is a crazy, bizarre, weird place with all sorts of natural monsters (ocean creatures and parasites in particular). Instead of wishing things I imagine could exist, I like to think about how they would have existed if evolution had gone down a slightly different path.

The Uncanny:

Okay, I like Freud a little better now; I had no idea the idea of the uncanny had been part of his psychological theory. Indeed, I never realize the idea had a name at all. But this concept is one I’ve been aware of an fascinated by for a long time and strived to incorporate into my own work. Although I am in tune with Aestheticism, I also believe the most beautiful things are things that have disturbing qualities that give them a surreal, dreamlike, or “uncanny” feel.

The idea of fear or being disturbed is a difficult feeling to evoke in everyone. Horror films are a good example of this—these days a lot of horror films focus on gruesome violence and the “gross out factor” and leave psychology by the wayside. But looking back at what are considered to be the best horror films and thriller movies, the names that crop up are the ones that left the details to the viewer’s imagination. Like Hitchcock’s “The Birds”, the most frightening things are ones you are never offered an explanation or resolution about. They in themselves are not scary, but the ideas they suggest become scary the more you dwell on them. This feeling of the uncanny happens in everyday life as well. Everyone, I think, tries to rationalize coincidences and strange events, and can become very distraught when they’re unable to put order to things they experience. We love to fantasize about extraordinary events, but become frightened when they seem to occur in reality.

James G: The Uncanny and Internal Sourcing

In The Uncanny, an essay written by Sigmund Freud, there is a lengthy discussion on ideas which are both intriguing and unsettling. The ripping out of eyes is an extremely grotesque idea which Freud links to a fear of castration. The theory is interesting and makes sense coming from Freud, who briefly looks again to the story of Oedipus, who blinded himself after finding he married his mother and killed his father. The surrealists took this idea of intriguing yet unsettling in their paintings, with dismembered torsos in numerous paintings and a general sense of overbearing.

It seems that Jan Harrison takes this idea of the uncanny in her work. The cat eyes are unsettling and the unfamiliar creatures add a sense of mystery and unease that is appealing and plain weird simultaneously. Her process works the same mysterious and uneasy way, with her imaginary friends vocalizing from her subconscious and painting through her.

This idea of playing with the uncanny in order to make people uneasy is also used by Pipilotti Rist, who utilizes editing to make her pieces give a sense of discomfort. A woman with a metal flower and large smile smashing car windows while a police officer approvingly nods, or a sped-up and out of focus dancing woman singing the first line to “Happiness is a Warm Gun” both are offputting, as are her other works. Whether they deal with female empowerment or not, the way her videos are executed directly deals with the uncanny.

Kate's External Sourcing Documentation

Nadia on *Catherine Opie: American Photographer*

Location: New York City Guggenheim Museum.
Date of visit: August 28, 2008

When first examining the works by Catherine Opie, I couldn’t help but notice her subjects in contrast with her use of color. Specifically, her ‘Portraits’ series and her ‘Being and Having’ series contain an element of elegance about them. Aesthetically and compositionally the photographs struck me as being mesmerizing. Using bright solid colors as her backdrop, Opie exhibits a community of individuals who conflict with society’s norm. After processing this information, I was able to truly understand the nature of her work and appreciate the way in which she conveys ideas about gender and identity. Much of Catherine’s work is very personal. An obvious influence of American documentary artist, Walker Evans is apparent, but Opie has a way of personalizing her work like I have never viewed before. Especially shocking are her shirtless self-portraits. In contrast to her somewhat humorous display of friends and LA locals, her self portrait seems to convey much more pain. Specifically, the self-portrait entitled ‘cutting’ shows Opie with her back facing the viewer and a freshly carved child-like drawing on her back. This gave me a sense of physical pain as I was confronted with bleeding flesh, but also an emotional reaction to the obstacles the artist faces.

Opie’s bravery to produce such works is admirable. I really enjoyed her portraits because there is certain amount of drama I try to capture in my own photography. I was refreshing to see her style of portraiture. Her subjects are people who may be considered freaks by society and possess a kind of deviance but also innocence. They defy the standard aesthetic of what is easily accepted in our culture, yet they carry such innocent and real expressions. The body of work is nothing less than shocking, dramatic, and aesthetically beautiful.

Opie’s diverse taste in photography filled the gallery walls. I noticed that there were a select few bodies of work which were black and white. I found these to be an interesting shift from her portraits. From freeways to mini-malls to Wall Street, Opie, I feel captured not only a setting, but a feeling. In this genre of photographs, although they lack human figures, they still possess a sense of community. There seemed to be a hazy and unearthly tone to the black and white prints. I felt the stills to be quite interesting because perhaps we don’t need to see the actual figures to understand the kinds of people who dwell in the area. I found my own imagination filling the sidewalks of Wall Street with men in business suits and locals scurrying through the busy city streets.

( Can't places be portraits???---I agree that Opie's work connects through ideas of community,
but it needn't only reference the body.)

Finally, I was confronted with several photographs from her series, ‘domestic’ where I was thrown into the living room of a homosexual family. It was really interesting to view these as well because society is often sheltered from these realities in a community. Although everyone knows they exist, homosexual households are often kept suppressed from the public and they are certainly not commercialized or made products of any type of media. Seeing these very natural settings was truly enlightening.

Nadia,
Nicely written!
Was there an exhibition title for the works? a retrospective? How is Opie's statement about her work compare to your analysis? Also important in Opie's work is scale, especially the Portraits - taken with large format polaroids. Her intent is important in how you evaluate the works-- how does she contextualize them-- especailly the new Ice house series?

http://www.guggenheim.org/exhibitions/exhibition_pages/opie/overview.html

Global Warming at the Icebox

On Sunday I attended the Global Warming at the Icebox show in the Crane Arts Building, which will be up from October 5- November 15, 2008.  I admit that my real reason for going was to see the piece King Ortler and Little Siberia, which Ryan and I worked on all summer with Professor Elizabeth Mackie. (You can see it in the background of this photograph.)  Yet another piece caught my eye almost from the start.  Miguel Luciano's Pimp My Piragua consisted of a bright orange pushcart containing a block of ice and bottles of flavoring.  The side of the cart had speakers built into it that blasted "Crank dat Iceman" by Soulja Boy and a small screen showed footage of icebergs on a continuous loop.  Throughout the opening, Luciano scraped the block of ice with a small metal scoop, and made piraguas, or snow cones, for anyone who asked.  His piece references the consumption that has led to global warming.  The addition of the music reminds us what the word "ice" has come to mean in popular culture, just as it is depleting in the natural world.  

I found that this piece was successful on a few levels.  Though I found Luciano's performance intrinsic to the piece, I can see that the cart itself will function as a sculpture during the rest of the exhibit--and the music and video will help bring some of the energy that he had to the stationary piece.  His performance both engaged and critiqued us.  I couldn't get the idea of that shaved ice out of my head, but I felt that asking for one would cause me to condemn myself along with the rest of the consumers at the opening.  The opening sickened me in a way, yet it seemed as though Luciano anticipated the hypocrisy and decided to harness it.  Perhaps the most ironic twist of all was the recycling bin placed outside near the beverages during the opening.  When I tried to toss my glass bottle in, I realized that the same people who attended this show on global warming must have thrown their garbage in with the recyclables.  It would be funny if it weren't so depressing.

Cody and Ciaran Murphy at CerealART

I feel that I was drawn to write my reaction on Ciaran Murphy because I initially rejected his work. It lacks everything that interests me; a forceful palette, texture and dynamic composition. It is intensely minimal and seems rare that one of these small-scale paintings contains more than two hues. I have never been interested in minimalist art. I feel that it is not engaging enough for my personal taste, though I do not deny that if done correctly it can convey a powerful message. It is my intention in this reaction to confront myself with a style I have always declined, solely because of my distaste.
Ciaran Murphy is currently being featured at the CerealArt Gallery in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He showcases an 8 piece series of small-scale oil paintings. The sizes are no larger than two feet and beg for an intimate viewing by an individual at a close range. The subject matter is nature based and includes both animals and landscapes. The color palette throughout the series reflects muddy blues, earthy greys, greens and browns.
Each piece has a quietness about it, as well as the poetry of a solitary exclusive moment in nature that’s captured in the composition. One piece in particular I would like to expand on. It is bluntly named Lighting Strike and got the classic criticism from another viewer within earshot. “I could do that in kindergarten.”
This particular piece is a little over a foot by foot and a half and is compromised of a flat deep Payne’s grey. The only differentiation is a small bundle of quick brushstrokes meant to represent trees in the bottom corner. The star of the piece is the “lightning bolt” that splits the canvas in half, a classic tense composition. This skeletal structure is formed from what seems to be a single fluid stroke of harsh white.
This piece uses very little visual language and I feel that is what is most striking about it. Since the lightning is just a single stroke, to me it isn’t lightning. It’s just a stroke, but a very sensual one at that. The minimalism forces my mind to appreciate the painting for its technical aspects, whether intentional or not. Ciaran is a talented artists overall. Though I am not quite a fan of the minimal techniques he portrays, there is a wonderful thing that happens inside his intimate compositions.


Hey Cody,
I ran across this Barnett Newman piece today. Differences yes, but Ciaran's work is so informed by Newman's response to composition /form/color.

Forest Tunes: A Library by Shai Zakai

Over the past weeks I have attended multiple museum and gallery exhibitions looking for that one piece that would strike me off guard and hold a lasting impression. During the opening of the “Global Warming at the Ice Box” on October 5th 2008, held in the Crane Arts Center of Philadelphia, one artist’s piece did just this and kept me asking questions all day long. Strongly contrasting to many of the other pieces in the gallery that had a direct visual correlation to the melting of glaciers or ice caps, this piece stood out from the crowd. Not only did it stand out for this reason, but also for its execution and presentation. The piece being referenced is one created by the Israeli artist Shai Zakai. Entitled “Forest Tunes: The Library”, Zakai’s piece clearly argues different affects of global warming and as well creates a piece of great magnitude which is implied in the selection of the word library in its title.
“Forest Tunes” takes a turn from chronicling the affects of human actions on ice depletion one step further in an attempt to capture the on going destruction and footprints that are left behind daily by the human race. Starting in 1995 the artist began creating a library or catalog of different events to show these very affects. Not only does this strong context enhance the piece’s power, but so does the piece’s execution as a segregated and well-maintained space. Two long walls of shelving surround a table and four chairs all sitting atop of a sleek black carpet. As the viewer enters the space they are encouraged to approach the table, take a seat, and flip through a catalog of sheets that show the various stills that the artist has captured on location. The viewer is encouraged to take notes as well as to search through the library using the catalogue to discover the contents of a box holding objects ranging from original photographs to the actual object depicted on the catalogue cards. This small space is then ended with a wall displaying a series of photographic prints carrying the message of the piece over to a snap shot of what the artist has been trying to capture.
Shai Zakai creates an in-depth and meticulous vision of how the world has been affected by its inhabitants as well as a strong message of urgency. Its seems that these two things are very easily the intent of the artist and that through chronicling the events the artist has taken the ideas that are very often just seen in print into objects that can be held and observed in a one-on-one experience. With this more personal experience, the ideas and arguments of scientists and articles that propagate points on the destruction of natural spaces by humanity is given a far greater weight. It becomes a message that can no longer be ignored and one that connects to those who have undergone the experience on a more personal level. The viewer experiences what the artist has discovered not only through the catalog itself, but also through the event of searching and opening the wrong and right boxes in a search of their own. This idea, when coupled with the concept of a library holding much respected information, takes the concept of global warming to a new and vastly higher level. This idea is then also combined with video instillation and other media pieces in an adjacent room furthering the message and vision of the artist.
Although the piece spoke very loudly and specifically to the destruction of natural environments, it seems hard for me to say if or if not it was a completely original piece. There is always a struggle in the art world over similar ideas and when a line is drawn to say that the ideas are different enough or too similar for comfort. When viewing this piece one name jumped to the forefront of my head and seemed to impede further analysis. This name was that of Jonathan Safran Foer, author of the book “Everything is Illuminated”. In the story of this novel the main character Jonathan, played by Elijah Wood in the film adaptation, is an avid collector of objects of a personal significance. This idea strongly suggests that of Shai Zakai, but even more so the idea is mirrored when the character who has collected the only remains of Trachimbrod, a town destroyed by the events of the Holocaust enters into the novel’s storyline. These items are also stored in boxes that stack and fill the house of an elderly woman and chronicle the lives of those lost in an attempt to preserve the lives that were ended to early. This similarity seems almost too close to be coincidence, but whose idea came first and was one influenced by the other? Does it even matter if one was?
It was these questions and others like them that cultured a strong sense of curiosity for this piece in particular, but it was also the piece’s power as well. Zakai creates a world set apart from that around it in the exhibit while also calling to the instances that have created the world we live in now and how it has changed from what the planet once was. The impact of this piece creates a strong residence in the viewer’s mind and has lasted exceptionally long in my own. It seems that this speaks toward the success of Shai Zakai, for if her piece has lingered in thoughts so long after the experience, then it has clearly created an impact on the viewer. Creating this type of impact forces the viewer to keep considering the ideas connected to “Forest Tunes”. Holding pieces such as this and many others, the show “Global Warming at the Ice Box” creates a prophetic and urgent message for action and regret. Through these feelings the curators and artists bring the media’s messages of destruction to a level of personal experience and thus personal cause. Because of this, the exhibition became successful as a whole, even with the questions and similarities it might bring about with some aspects of Shai Zakai’s piece.


Kate, Check out Mark Dion's work.
http://www.pbs.org/art21/artists/dion/index.html

The Internal and the Uncanny- by Ryan

This week’s readings spanned a very different mindscape then those that have been assigned in previous weeks. Both of the readings addressed ideas that relate closely to art and ones that are each similar to that of internal emotion and reaction. Although events in the world around us greatly influence the people we become and the emotional states we might experience, these articles separate these responses from just reactions and place them into a more personal state. While both articles seem very different in what they are addressing, each has a very strong connection to the idea of creating art and the different states or ways one might do so. This idea is one that seems drastically different than those presented to the thesis class before and allows for a contrast in the process of creation and perspective when placed next to that of external sourcing.

To start, a dialogue on internal inspiration was created out of a couple different examples of artists, their works, and where they find their inspirations. The first artist seemed to draw this inspiration from a very unique arena. The artist describes that as a child she created two different imaginary friends, of which both stayed a large part of her as she grew into an adult. With work centering on the connection between the personal and the idea of primitive and almost animalistic instincts, each piece starts as a self-portrait and evolves into something so much more. The pieces shape slowly into animal figures and traits that blend into each other creating interesting and intriguing compositions. It is the source for this that is even more intriguing however. The artist states that it is when she loses herself in the creative process that her imaginary companions take influence on the artistic pieces and even willingly evokes the characters for those who ask. Although the method may seem strange and on the verge of being wacky, the artist expresses herself in a manner that creates a natural and ordinary feel to the whole experience.

Another section of the article on internal sourcing that proved interesting was that on the artist Pipilotti Rist. This particular artist seemed to relate to internal sourcing in the more conventional manner of relying on her current and past emotional states to create pieces that speak widely to the audience. Although the experiences are abstracted from initial events, each still holds the feelings that the artist went through and was inspired by. The video and media pieces touched on through out the article seemed to call upon many different events in the artist’s life, but left one major question at the end. When an artist is using the internal and the emotional as a source for production, then what happens when those moments of heartbreak and extreme sorrow dissolve? The writer tells us that we (the public audience) have yet to see if this artist can survive the transition and how she might do so after falling in lave and settling down.

Lastly, the writing by Freud called “The Uncanny” seemed to relate to these two topics in the idea of emotional trigger and how a feeling (an uncomfortable one in particular) is created in different pieces of literary art. The article speaks on different successes and failures in the uncanny, as well as describes, in detail, different cases of success. The most significant example is that in the story of the sandman. Through out the description the reader is made aware of the story’s many twists and uncomfortable revelations, as well as the simple and horrifying nature of some of its characters. Throughout this short piece of literature, Freud not only defines what the uncanny is for the reader but gives such a detailed understanding of the word and its inner workings that they could walk away with a feeling of its mastery. The idea of creating such a state of unease through a piece of art, whether it is written or visual, relates closely to the idea of the internal and states of raw emotion. The actions of an artist can create strong feelings in a viewer, as can other events, and it is up to the artist and their own source of inspiration how to inflict these emotions and which they intend for the viewer to experience.

Internal Sourcing/ The Uncanny

Sourcing from one’s own dreams, inner feelings and emotions can become either a quite daunting task or a rather liberating experience for an artist. Freud’s The Uncanny brings rise to an interesting psychological concept of an instance where something can be familiar, yet at the same time, resulting in something quite uncomfortably strange. This concept accompanying the “Internal Sources of Inspiration” excerpts creates a connection of ideas that highlight the conflicts between one’s mind/imagination and reality.

            “Jan Harrison undertakes a comparable journey into deep imagination during the creative process. Hers is an active quest for a source of vitality and wisdom that has been usurped by the authority of bureaucracies, institutions, laboratories, classrooms, and other such constructions of civilization”. This passage from our reading of “Internal Sources of Inspiration” describes Jan Harrison as an artist who uses her everyday conscious to create creatures whose images are not confined to the influences, ideals, and standards of society. Freud’s concept of “the uncanny” can be applied to Harrison’s familiar but warped aquatic winged creature, Tendril Birdfish. There is something recognizable within the fin-like attributes of this sculpture to make one relate it to a fish, but it’s disconcerting facial expression and drooping appendages turn familiarity into the uncanny.

            Personal experiences of an artist can affect his or her own work directly and indirectly. In the case of Pipilotto Rist, her failed relationships with men and the internal conflicts that arise within her during these events help produce personal and meaningful works of art. I believe this concept and process of art making is a great example of an artist’s decision to become vulnerable in exporting her/his private thoughts into a public atmosphere. In a way, the feeling of “the uncanny” might arise within Rist every time she might view her video projections. Her works are about her past, thus she relives these familiar events but only through her own recreations that are altered by her personal perceptions and emotion.

            Internal sourcing for an artist in relation to Freud’s concept of “the uncanny” becomes an experience in which he or she is challenged with the task of making something that will successfully capture and express an informal image or idea within his or her head, into a format that will be accessible for others to experience.

James G- Zoe Beloff: The Somnambulists

From September 2^nd to October 4^th, the Bellwether Gallery in New York City presented an exhibition by Zoe Beloff entitled The Somnambulists. I visited on October 3^rd. The exhibition consisted of four miniature wooden theaters and a fifth slightly larger “theater” where two short films implementing 3D glasses were shown in a separate room. In the smaller theaters, each built to look like a different setting, a small monochrome moving image was projected onto a piece of glass. The images, according to the information in the gallery, were short loops of people suffering from hysteria filmed over a hundred years ago.

The larger mini-theater showed two films based on case studies of a pre-Freudian psychologist named Pierre Janet. Utilizing stereoscopic technology in which 3D glasses must be worn, the two short films, named A Modern Case of Possession and History of a Fixed Idea, were about 10 minutes each. A narrator, Dr. Janet, discussed and tried to correct an individual’s hysteria. Both films featured Dr. Janet entering the dreams of the patients and eventually curing them while they sung songs about their delusions. Musical and comedy, the films brought up questions about acting and theater, as well as dreams and psychology.

After leaving the show, I found that somnambulist is a synonym for sleepwalker. The somnambulists, as is evident from watching the films, are the patients, who constantly live in their nightmares. The decision to show these films in a very modern technology, while so clearly referencing 19^th century acting and information, is an interesting dichotomy. The relationship between science and theater is an interesting one to bring up while talking about hysteria, which seems to reference a similar sort of idea. The hysteric is so deeply ingrained in fantasy, while a scientist tries to crack at that façade. The metaphor seems to be very fitting.

Overall I thought the exhibition was great. I had never seen 3D glasses used in such a way, and I was blown away by how seamless they were and how they enhanced the work. The relationships between the different aspects, such as the use of technology and the subject matter, were very intriguing.

James G

Michelle's documentation

exhibition review 2-eliasson's nyc waterfalls-anna

This weekend I was able to go to New York to see Olafur Eliasson's Waterfalls. The installation will be up until october 13th, and I wanted to visit it before it is dismantled.

The Waterfalls were commissioned by The Public Art Fund. They consist of four man-made falls located in the East River. They range in heights from 90 ft to 120 ft. The larges is situated right beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. The scaffolding is erected against one of the suppor beams and runs the width of it. The other falls are located at the Brooklyn piers, governor's Island, and pier 35 in Manhattan. They generate 35 gallons of water per minute. The cost to assemble them was 15 million, though they are expected to generate 60 million dollars in revenue for the city.

All four waterfalls can be viewed from South Street Seaport pier 17, which I didn't expect them to be in such close proximity. The effect at first, is a bit underwhelming. The largest fall beneath the Brooklyn Bridge is exactly as it appear in photographs. It actually though, looks really natural there. It seems suited for the space. What appears to be the tallest and most narrow, is at the Brooklyn piers. It was probably the most interesting, at least the day I was there. At one point the wind picked up, causing the flowing water to curve sharply. A building seems to be directly behind it, making the scaffolding less noticeable. The water appears to be falling from the sky. The tow other falls on governor's Island and pier 35 seem the least effective because they appear so similar.

The water taxi take you for a closer look and there you can experience the falls not just visually, but feel the spray and sounds of rushing water, wind, and waves.

The best way to appreciate them is to spend some time there and they start to win you over. What make them interesting is the constant change of conditions, wind, sun, clouds, weather, etc. It reminded me of Monet's series paintings, and how the effect of light could change the mood of the same subject. Eliasson's use of scaffolding for the falls is ironic because it actually suits the city. It's not uncommon to come across different scaffolding the many city streets. I had read that his intention was to bring peoples attention to 'what is between the land'. Even though Manhattan is surrounded by water, water is really taken for granted.

I think in this sense, he is successful because I hung out for a couple of hours and it felt so relaxing. One of my friends commented that it didn't feel like you were in the city at all. It seems a lot of others had the same thought, as it was crowded with people lounging on the steps, just taking in the view. It was crowded, yet it didn't seem 'busy' at all.

I wouldn't say this is as powerful as his most famous installation The Weather Project at the Tate Modern, London. There he brought the sun inside the museum, everyone appearing in silhouette surrounded by yellow-orange light. With the Waterfalls, he keeps the outside, outside. The scaffolding is actually much like the building structures themselves. It's less of a surprise because they are not opposite elements coming together. This one has a more subtle, serene feel. You just have to take a little more time to appreciate its impact.

anna's w/u uncanny freud

After reading Freud's "The Uncanny", I didn't make the leap that fear of losing one's sight is connected to fear of castration. It's possible, though not definite. Since Hoffman's intentions are not verified, it just remains speculation. Good Old Freud is at it again!

Freud states that jentsch's ovservation of Hoffman leaving the reader to wonder if a particular character is real or not as being a successful uncanny device, is only partially correct. Freud believes Olympia is not the most uncanny occurrence in the story. he feels this because children tend not to differeniate between the inanimate and animate. If their doll were to become real, it wouldn't be scary to them, but rather it would be something they might secretly wish for. When I read Jentsch's statement though, I think of The Sandman himself as being the most uncanny. Is this a real character or a figment of the imagination? Does he represent repressed childhood experiences or how we can avoid a fear, only to have it come back to 'haunt' us?

When Nathaniel's nurse explains the terrifying story of The Sandman to him, it reminded me of old fairy tales and how sinister and frightening they always were. Children, strangely enough, are not scared off by such stories and have a certain fascination with scary things. It made me think of the movie 'To Kill a Mockingbird', and how the kids saw their neighbor as being scary but in reality he was mentally slow. He ends up an unlikely hero by coming to their aid.

Freud states Hoffman's bringing "anxiety about eyes into such intimate connection with the father's death" convinces him that The Sandman must be about the castration complex. You could also look at this though as naiveness replaced by knowledge. Maybe Nathaniel saw his father as perfect (as most young children see their parents) and through growing up sees something that disappoints him or takes away that facade of perfection. Also, when Freud asks "why The Sandman is always a destroyer of love?", it could be the author was referring to an idealized version of love, an infatuation. Also, the author could be speaking about the injury to the eyes, as the loss of innocence, in the sense of how children see and understand things. The Sandman would be symbolically depriving them of their seeing through innocent eyes.

internal uncanny Cody

Freud was obviously revolutionary in the sense of psychoanalytical ideals which led to the ever-present psychodynamic model of psychological therapy. According to Freud, the “uncanny” is generated by the tension from an uncertainty of what we know to be true and what is presented to us. There is an example of an epileptic seizure creating a sense of uncanny. This is due to our base understanding that motor skills are directly influenced by mental process. Therefore, while the duration of the seizure is comprised of involuntary and violent spasms, our mind experiences a tension in attempt to classify the human in either a mechanical or mentally lucid form.
Wax figures in hokey museums are a good example. The “uncanny” is developed while the brain processes something so realistic as human, then realizes it is inanimate. The struggle between these concepts results in an eerie perception that, in accordance with Freud’s teachings, causes the mind to reject the situation rather than labor through it.
The idea of “uncanny” is derived from feelings of the strange, contradictory and of displacement. This interesting emotion that is rarely addressed is a direct result of the cerebral workings of emotion. Many artists find inspiration from this sensation and transform it into a tactile work of art. This fuel is derived from the intellectual examination of the mental reaction and workings. The internal inspiration is used to start an idea for a work. Internal inspiration lends itself susceptible to take over the art-making process, whether be it subconsciously or not, and can result in growth and redirection of the entire idea. Many artists find that their internal sourcing leads to endless possibilities to an otherwise constraining project.

New Museum's "After Nature" Exhibition

New Museum’s “After Nature” exhibition

Date of visit: September 20, 2008

                       From July 17 through September 21, 2008, the New Museum presented an eclectic selection of work in “After Nature”. Taking German filmmaker, Werner Herzog’s film, Lessons of Darkness as inspiration, curators Massimiliano Gioni and Jarrett Gregory, collected over ninety works from various artists with a common thread: man’s communion with nature and the vulnerability of humanity under the power of natural forces.

            “Unfolding as a visual novel, the show depicts a future landscape of wilderness and ruins. It is a story of abandonment, regression, and rapture- an epic of humanity coming apart under the pressure of obscure forces and not-so-distant environmental disasters.” This exhibition summary written for the New Museum’s press release is an appropriate premise for analyzing Pawet Althalmer’s sculptures within the “After Nature” exhibition. What better way to approach this show’s theme of visualizing the end and the wilderness of the future, than constructing life-sized models of humans that look like the living dead?

            Pawed Althalmer’s sculptures, made from organic materials such as grass, human hair and animal intestines stand like Museum of Natural History displays. Instead of being antediluvian bones and prehistoric replicas of mammals and reptiles, the viewer looks into the vacant glass eyes of naked frail human beings. Althalmer pulls in the viewer not only by his medium, but the modern day objects his figures hold. A light-skinned man and woman are encased within museum glass holding a camcorder and cell phone. The couple becomes instantly preserved within a slice of contemporary life from the 21^st century. Althalmer’s choice of material to sculpt his figures is not only conceptually smart, but also visually raw. The delicate detail and careful nature in which violet capillaries and blue veins show through his figures’ skin, provoked a visceral connection within me the more I noticed each figure’s human attributes. Another figure was of a fragile looking little girl holding a stick with a leaf on a string attached to it. This piece not only felt the most vulnerable, but the most life-like. Althalmer applies movement to the sculpture by including the leaf on the string. This handmade little toy for the girl floats and flutters on the air currents blowing throughout the gallery. She stands on a pedestal about six inches from off the ground and remains below the viewer at a life-like size and height. Her life-life size adds to the human-like quality of her skin, hair and coy childish stance.

            I was immediately drawn to delicate and vulnerable quality of Althalmer’s sculptures. Having found out that they were primarily made from animal intestines and straw, I was even more impressed by the pieces and the innovativeness of Althalmer. The skin and bones of the figures posing as humans who are mainly composed of animal remains is quite noteworthy. Even the artist makes a life-sized model of himself. He and the other figures are awkwardly pale and stitched together like stuffed animals; it’s quite a two-sided showcase of man and the human form. One could see this representation as a direct deconstruction of man, devaluing and degrading the human form via using “lower life forms” such as animal intestines to capture the human figure. Another view could be that Althalmer is trying to preserve the ancient handcrafts of the past by using primitive materials objects in his sculptures. In creating the human form that produces these objects, he glorifies man and man’s creations.

            The fusion of subject matter and medium create a dialog between each other that I believe makes Althalmer’s piece a success aesthetically and conceptually. The natural ancient sculptural materials allow his pieces to become relics of our modern culture and personas. Applying his artwork to the “After Nature” exhibition’s theme, Althalmer’s figures could almost represent yellowing pale forms of humanity that hope to stand the test of time for our human race.

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