Round Robin

The Man and His Shoes

Part 1 (Jake) - Rather than encouraging a certain theme or sense of finality in my story, I wanted to see how far off my story would become and thus focused on exposition. I presented to the next collaborator a man who liked shoes, but was unable to tie them with the hope that the collaborator would thrust the man into some sort of raising action or dilemma. My illustration placed the collaborator in the first person viewpoint of the man in order to give a sense of personal familiarity (who hasn’t looked down to tie shoes a hundred time before) and connection to the character. I hoped the first person theme would continue in addition to the rhyming nature of the story, as, if I was allowed to finish the story myself, would have dealt with the themes of coming-to-age and both the camera view and prose would encourage the childlike feeling associated with such a theme.

There once was a man who loved shoes,
But with tying he was often confused. 

Part 2 (Amy)

Apparently my legs are not too manly ;)

His shoelaces became bundled
And he took a tumble -
his knees bumped and bruised.

Part 3 (Maddy) - I’d seen that the man had very specifically hurt his knees and wanted to address that, but I thought it was more important that I gave the character an objective, since the fourth segment usually deals with the climax, or height of the story at least. The segment before mine had subtle rhyme and rhythm, which I repeated in the hopes of continuity. The image I included shows someone (slowly) walking out the door; I again wanted to both address the wounded knees and simultaneously raise the stakes of the character’s objective in getting somewhere.

After icing his knees,
He got back to his feet -
Determined to limp there on time.

Part 4 (Juan) -

It seems like the previous part made this man become something more than he was before. Following that line of thought, I decided to give this man’s life a greater meaning, something to hold on to. I decided to make him a sort of hero in the service of others. Putting up on top of a hill, look at a city was a way to tell that he was ready for something greater.

Part 5 (Heather) - 

I felt like this man had gone through a journey and now wishes to do right by others.  With the city in the background of Juan’s drawing, I imagined he could easily do good somewhere there, but I didn’t feel like a superhero type story would be the way to conclude.  So I choose an everyday hero that he would become, being a firefighter, helping and saving others everyday.  

Upon receiving my story and looking at the artistic justifications of my colleagues, I realize how easily narrative direction and theme can be swept another way. I was pleased that the photography focused on feet, as I felt that evoked a sense of realism in the piece. However, I do feel that the photographic tendency might have stifled a bit of the creative possibilities of everyone involved. Although very disjointed, the change of medium to illustration by Juan opened up the character to new possibilities, and I almost felt a sense of transcendence that I hoped would happen as the character “came-to-age.” Although the realism of the photography miscommunicated the light-hearted tone I was shooting for, the illustration brought some of that back. These changes in addition to the drop in rhyming, ultimately gave me the feeling that the story itself was coming-to-age through its dynamic nature.

Artist Statement (Jake Nelson, Amy Peterson, Maddy Purves, Juan Rodriguez, Heather Moser)

As eloquently stated by DJ Spooky in his preface to the Exquisite Corpse, recent advancement in social connectivity is fueling the fires of collaboration; breathing life and form into the masses of information we consume everyday. Despite the increased flow of information, however; collaboration and the art that derives from it continues to be dictated by the unbreakable, universal rules of chance and individual perception. Each one of our blogs displays a spin off of the Exquisite Corpse and evidence of the mentioned universal rules. As a team, we played a game where one individual begins a story, only to be constrained to writing under 20 words and sending the rest to be filtered through the artistic channel of four others. After coming together and analyzing each individual’s justification for their respective part, we were able to not only discover the following insights into how a disjointed story can work together, but also basic patterns manifested in collaboration itself.

After coming together, we each explained our justifications for the parts that we’d played. As a team, we realized that the game had forced us to think about our stories through a lens of communication -- which communication, in and of itself, fits under the definition of a ‘medium’. As a group, we each had to adapt to what the people before or after us in the process chain would add or take away from what we, ourselves, had imagined. Some players were able to adapt quicker than others, while the others were able to adapt more cohesively. This did not become apparent, though, until the game had finished, because there was such a lack of communication.

Therefore, without communication, the stories became more about expressing our personalities and worldview rather than plotline. The game was challenging. It was hard to release some of our precious creative control into the hands of chaos, but chaos was crucial in preserving the crucial element of purity with regards to our reactions and responses. Most importantly, out of this purity came a story that was more creative and unique than we could ever imagine.

Looking deeper, we as a team felt that our game also helped unlock additional insights into the role of collaboration in art itself. As mentioned by DJ Spooky and class discussion, collaboration as an artform may seem disjointed and Frankensteinian in many regards. Each individual carries their own worldview, which is only accentuated in narrative construction as that worldview seeks to adapt to constraints and filters. Above all, however; these constraints are what make the Exquisite Corpse the artform that it is and the strongest glue that binds our story together. Each part of the story is unique in content, yet similar in which is what made. It stands as a microcosm of art itself, where we merely sample and elaborate off the shoulders of artistic giants who came before. Information and creativity may exponentially increase in a globalizing world, but the rules of artistic creation remain the same; forever dictated by the constraints our game portrayed.

Music Mosaic

Moonlight Sonata 1st Movement

link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nT7_IZPHHb0

Artist Statement

The first movement of Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor, more commonly known as Moonlight Sonata, by Ledwig von Beethoven has been a hallmark of classic music since its completion in 1801. The piece is simple in terms of its instrumental range, yet complex in its delivery of a steady, contemplative, and hopeful melody. The piece starts with a deep minor progression that gave me a disheartened, dark feeling as if I was venturing into the uncertainty of a black tunnel. This steadiness of the lower notes is cut by an almost defiant series of higher pitches, almost like light that is slowly penetrating the dark ominous of the lower range. The upper range, although hopeful, is not overdone so as to evoke a sense of whimsicality, yet does challenge the darkness much like the moon challenges the darkness of night. 

There is a sense of duality in the piece; dark fighting against light, but presented in a way that encourages reconciliation between the two opposites. Ultimately, the sonata gives the sense that, although darkness and trials may consume us like the night sky, we can still hold onto hope and progress despite opposition. As such, my mosaic reflects a narrative in which I figuratively portray my thoughts and the reconciliation between my fears and motivation to shine in the darkness.  The mosaic shifts through artistic medium in order to present a progression from conflict between dreams and reality to a series of photographs that represent reconciliation. Following the advice of Annie Dillard from the class reading, I sought to sacrifice details for the greater picture by looking for visual , symbolic representations of my conflicted feelings. Rather than looking at objects as they are, I wanted to look at my outside world through abstract eyes with the hope that the sum of images would explain my inner struggle far better than the physical, denotative nature of the subject matter. 

My mosaic begins with a shot of the sunset due to its ability to evoke the sense of conclusion and inevitability of darkness with which sonata opens. After reflecting the sense of growing darkness, the rest of the images in the “conflict sequence” play on the idea of duality by juxtaposing various fears and hopes visually. Not only do the images juxtapose in content and color, but also in form as harshness of reality is presented in photographic form and hopeful wishes represented by photographs of me illustrating. I thought that photographs were easier to manipulate through filters in order to present absence of color in an unfriendly world while illustrations could better represent my vision of the ideal in contrast to a harsher reality.

The “conflict section” starts with the interchange of three of my fears: conformity, loneliness, and failure. In the reality image of the conformity duality, I look down a line of identical trees that are equally wilting. Many times I feel like the trees, unnaturally molded and shaped by the forces of man and nature. The imagination side features a bright illustration of a flower blooming above weeds in a figurative celebration of individualism. The harsh reality of my fear of loneliness is depicted by a shot of me looking at an empty hand with a darker filter emphasizing sadness. The following image is a rough, almost comedic depiction of holding hands with a future family. Although I am not a professional artist, the childlike manner of illustrating is meant to reflect the hopefulness and innocent view in which I once saw my future family and a plea to remember said view. The last image of the “conflict sequence” is a low angle shot of me loosening a tie with a discouraged expression. My suit and tie represent my professional aspirations and the act of loosening depicts a sense of failure and fear of casting off those aspirations. The following image is critical to presenting the narrative aspect of the mosaic as it introduces the “reconciliation phase” of the mosaic. Instead of presenting the hopeful illustration as done previously, I choose to draw a large black hole and cover my notepad with leaves and dirt as a representation of corruption and death. This reflects how darkness can invade our thoughts and influence our outlook on the idealized future. The next image shows me throwing away my notebook; a visual representation of how we have to sometimes abandon the over idealized in order to confront reality directly. While musing on what could be is an important part of life, living with darkness comes when one acts on those dreams. This image and the message it conveys leads us into the “reconciliation” phase of the mosaic.

After the “conflict” pattern is broken, I am forced to confront reality and uncertainty as depicted by the long road into fog. The following image shows a set of footprints in the snow, which is meant to convey a sense of action and venturing into the unknown. I added a filter to emphasize the darkness of the footprints with the whiteness of the snow in order to play on the light/dark motif, but also display how reconciliation with harsh reality sometimes requires stepping into the cold unknown. The final image, the moon against the night sky, ties the entire piece together by not only showing progression from the initial image, but also invoking the sense of hope among darkness talked about above. Although we are consumed by darkness to the point of having our dreams challenged, we can still shine brightly in the night by confronting uncertainty and making our dreams a reality.  

Thinking and Writing

The Lost Message: How Should We Measure Jurassic World Against Its Predecessor?

As the last blockbuster ticket stub ripped and audiences bade goodbye to the warmth and freedom of summer, Jurassic World stood supreme, ranking in $1.669 billion against a $150 million budget. From many perspective, that figure alone makes Jurassic World one of the most successful blockbusters of all time, creating the same global buzz as its predecessor, Jurassic Park, when it exceeded $1 billion nearly 22 years before. Two films, two mammoth box office performances, yet as we remain reflective at the start of a new year, it only seems appropriate to contemplate Jurassic World’s legacy in the franchise’s canon. How true is the reboot to the cautionary themes of man’s hubris in scientific development and meddling with the natural order?  How true does Jurassic World stay to displaying the frailties of man in the technical age through horror and suspense? Most importantly, what is the film trying to teach us this time?

On the surface, Jurassic World has all the elements of a Jurassic Park thriller. Beautifully framed shots, an isolating, inescapable island, the hubris of man in testing the limits of nature, and the spectacle of dinosaurs coming alive through advanced CGI and animatronics. Despite these elements of the classic Jurassic film, the reboot misses some elements that made the original so horrifying, yet original. As mentioned, Jurassic Park as a book and film focused on the classic debate of science versus nature and the limits of man in the face of Mother Nature. The film, in addition to thrilling us, caused us to question the progress of man in the modern age, and whether humanity can destroy itself through venturing into new frontiers. It reflected the themes of traditional narrative horrors and tragedies like Shelley’s Frankenstein and the Greek’s Prometheus, feeding our fear that even good intentions can be rewarded with destruction. Although the rebooted Jurassic World dabbles in these themes, the execution is less effective and memorable.

For one, the tone of Jurassic World seems more appropriate for a pure action-comedy than the sci-fi horror that was its predecessor. As opposed to focusing on a group of in-over-their-heads scientists, the main protagonist, Owen, stands as a lone voice of reason with a macho personality and quick one-liners. Despite the chaos that ensues, you never feel that cool-headed Owen or those in the main party are in grave danger, thus eliminating the classic feeling of suspense associated with horror stories. Any deaths are reserved for side characters that are only presented enough to feel a twang of remorse, but not much more than the anonymous henchmen of your classic Bond film. This makes the film much more palatable, especially for younger audiences, but weakens the cautionary message illustrated in Jurassic Park. In general, the filmmakers seemed interested in presenting magnificent set pieces (the aviary breakout, the final battle between T-Rex and Indominus rex, and the raptor hunt) rather than presenting plausible plotlines to guide the characters towards those situations. While such narrative is acceptable in over-the-top action movies, it seems out of place for a tragedy.

At this point, many may say, “isn’t your analysis a bit critical?” to which I would say “yes it is,” but it reflects what many a critic thought about the reboot. Although the criticism above is valid under the Jurassic Park lens, Jurassic World (as with all films) deserves to be viewed with objectivity and separateness. Although the theme of science versus nature is present, it is not the main theme of the reboot despite some being unwilling to accept or even see a change in their beloved franchise. The story of Indominus rex and Jurassic World presents an open criticism of corporate society and the masses unquenchable desire for bigger, badder, and “more teeth.” Much like the theme of Jurassic Park was born from early 90’s anxiety and debates regarding breakthroughs in genetic enhancement and test tube fertilization, the reboot echoes the cautions of the unchecked consumerism that led to the recent recession and housing crisis. The difference in theme and context merits a different film, which many casual critics ignore in their assessment.

Many times we become so enamored with what a franchise meant before that we are blinded to a new message and theme. For instance, I found brilliant (I am assuming the director did this on purpose) the blatant irony that a movie decrying corporate America and unsatisfied consumer preference seem to jump on the action-comedy bandwagon made popular by Marvel’s commercial success (I mean… Chris Pratt essentially played the same character in Guardians of the Galaxy). The masses wanted Jurassic Park, but bigger, badder, and with more teeth, and Universal delivered even though it sacrificed the original Jurassic formula. Can the audience say Universal sold out? Maybe. But under the spectacle and CGI, Jurassic World subtly, yet unapologetically points the finger of blame right back at the audience for being what it is, a billion dollar plus summer blockbuster. Maybe like the Indomius rex, our unilateral taste for the summer blockbuster might grow to be unstoppable, overtaking diversity and creativity among mass media outlets.

As Hollywood continues to reimagine old franchises and tap into box office profits by playing on our nostalgia, we need to drop preconceived notions of what the franchise is and accept reboots for what they are--self-contained. Doing so opens our horizons to new themes that may hit much closer to home than we initially realize. Most importantly, it is how we keep a message from being lost.