Ben Masbaum

With this being my first blog for the IMA, I implore you to scroll away if you consider yourself one of those people who doesn’t particularly hold noobies in high regard. If you’ve stuck around, allow me to share a few thoughts on music videos as an art form.

I remember sitting in my living room when I was thirteen years old: voice cracking, flannel shirt around my waist with my combat boots on the coffee table and my mother urging me to wash my hair.  I couldn’t, of course, because I was busy watching MTV, pre-Real World and before the internet we know of today.  I would stare the wild camera effects of the music videos and think to myself, “Wow!  I love this!” It seemed easy to do and I wanted to be a part of it.

Fifteen years later, I’m about half-way there… with a bit of a different idea on the whole thing.
Music videos are a thirty year old venture that have gone from phenomenon to nuisance in the span of their lifetime.  I’ve seen so many mundane videos in the last ten years which only seem to be created to fulfill some pop star’s need to be seen on T.V. I actually believe that the music should support the video (Which I’ll get to in a bit).  That is it!

Enough about pop stars. Let’s talk about art. The music video as an art form can and should showcase the artist behind the camera and the artist at the editing table, as well as the musician (and in some cases more than the musician!) At the same time, the video should not lose track of the overall message.

It’s about experimentation.  Boundaries that cannot be crossed in conventional cinema are welcome in the music video world. An artist who is not crossing those boundaries is missing the point.  A great example is Michel Gondry.  Known for films like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Human Nature, and Be Kind, Rewind, Gondry also swims through the music video world. He has given mainstream videos a wake-up call and a smack in the face.  Here are some examples:

Occasionally, one will find collaboration between video artist and musician.  I’ve always favored this concept.  In fact, this an idea that I have put on my personal hit list.

However, one problem that can arise with this kind of collaboration is that the video art probably already comes with a soundtrack of some sort. If the artist decides to replace the music, the results can be drastically different. In the next example, the musical artist Kenna and video artist Mark Osborne team up on a video.  Kenna’s song “Hell bent”  is dubbed over an already existing clay animation short by Mark Osborne, called “More.”

The Kenna/Osborne collaboration is better, in my opinion.

Videomaker.com says that the primary goal of a music video is to serve the music artist.  I don’t completely agree.  I believe that this philosophy has turned the video into a showboat opp for musicians, not always in the best interest of the song and the story.  I think that the audience is fed up with artists in music bragging about themselves on this platform.  Aren’t they?  I certainly hope so. Sure, I believe that the video should exist to serve the song.  But perhaps the music can serve the video just as well.

You’ve probably heard enough of my ranting and raving on this matter.  I suppose it is up to me and others like me to step up and do something.  Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve already taken a stab at it.  This one is mine:

For me, life at the Academy settled into a rhythm that included some or all of these each day:
A morning jog in the amazing park of Villa Doria Pamphili;
Catching up on IMA-related business via email;
Audio-recording interviews for my project and conscientiously downloading these to more than one storage device;
Writing a crude attempt to outline ideas about thinking, language and sensory experience triggered by the interviews; and
Visits to the AAR library on deliberate quests, sometimes spiced up by fortuitous discoveries of books related to the ideas mentioned in the previous item.

The daily rhythm is regularly punctuated by the Academy mealtimes – gatherings of people who are deeply engaged in their own individual quests. These include not only the scholarly and artistic endeavors of the Fellows, Visiting Scholars and Visiting Artists, but also the quests of “Fellow Travellers,” the Academy’s term for companions of Fellows and Visitors who are sometimes partners caring for young children. The adventures and discoveries of these residents, very often artists and scholars themselves, are often ingeniously integrated with the rhythm of naps and school hours.  So when all gather in the dining room, there seems to me to be a sense of adventure.  The meals function not simply as social times, but also as super-colliders where ideas get knocked against one another, tested and potentially changed. I continue to be impressed by the way the quality and artistry, really, of the kitchen staff contributes to these gatherings. Each meal is obviously prepared with care and served with considerable generosity on the parts of both cooks and dining room staff. I sense that we residents all leave the dining room loved and fortified to return to our work and our various solitary explorations. This may sound over-blown, but the meals feel like good-natured and very informal blessings.

AAR dinner

On weekends or when interviews are unlikely and meals are not served, long exploratory walks to historic sights are the things. Walking the streets of Rome on a Sunday is a delight, as my IMA colleague, Daniel Incandela, recently commented. Families, couples young and old, groups of friends: it’s good to just be outdoors, strolling or perhaps stopping for a gelato or an espresso.

a street café outside the Pantheon

This week my Academy routine was interrupted by a nasty cold or flu of some sort. I felt ill for several days, finally surrendering to complete bed rest for two full days. The prospect of walking down several flights of stairs (and back up) and of meeting people was too much in my weakened condition. I had to forego a scheduled Academy walk through some nearby ruins. The Italian language felt overwhelming. I was sick.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that sometimes illness is an opportunity, except in the sense that all experiences are opportunities. But perhaps it’s worth saying that there are moments when the opportunities of experience coincide with an openness or a readiness to take advantage of particular features of experience. What I’m trying to say is that I got sick and, yes, there was some discomfort involved (the fear that can flare up when it’s the middle of the night and you’re having trouble breathing and you’re alone, for example), but that it was not an entirely bad experience. As far as my intention to think about thinking, knowing, language, aesthetic experience, and the realm of the visual while at the Academy, the interlude of being sick, especially during that post-acute-misery time of weakness and recovery, provided some valuable time for reading, writing and sorting through perspectives.

The Pharmacy prescribes the following links to combat Monday online anemia.

Blog: Scanwiches

Jon Chonko, a New York graphic designer who has been scouring the local deli scene, has a scanwich blog for his findings, replete with delectable cross sections to satisfy your every sandwich desire. If you’re not hungry now, you’re about to be.

(via npr)

ArtBabble Video: Behind the Scenes: Tim Burton

IMA Work of Art:

Alchemilla vase by Alessandro Mendini (Designer)

Tweet:

RichardMcCoy: Finishing up my next @Art21 post. Sneak peak: there’s talk of Futuro House by Matti Suuronen http://bit.ly/2jIqHg

I am still digging tropicals and other non-hardies at home. If the weather had not been so great I would be in deep double-dug doo-doo. As it is, I’m sort of leisurely going along – but admittedly starting to look over my shoulder for “real” November weather. Whether it was the cooler summer or the steady rains I don’t know but many plants did extra good this year. The Amorphophallus konjac got huge.

The Xanthosoma violaceum produced “pups”. A first for me.

Even a stroll around the IMA reveals horticulture rarities. One of the bananas Jim planted by the Rain Garden bloomed this year. Since that stalk will die anyway he just left it in the ground. The leaves look real sad but that bloom, that bloom thinks it can still make fruit. The middle of November and it is barely touched by cold.

These little yellow flowers would each develop into a banana in the perfect (tropical) climate.

Behind Deer Zink the containers still have variegated shell ginger (Alpinia zerumbet ‘Variegata’) looking great. On November 13!

On the Sutphin Mall Geranium ‘Rozanne’ demonstrates why I still am willing to plant it. Plenty of flowers on a plant that started blooming in May.

The woody plants continue to put on a show as well. Near the Formal Garden, European beeches glow in the afternoon sun. All that yellow holding back the gray of winter.

In the Overlook an oak and some viburnums seem to have color coordinated themselves.

So even though it is mid-November there is still plenty to enjoy and delight in the gardens. Why don’t you come and visit a spell?

This is the project description that I sent to members of the Academy community, attached to an email inviting them to schedule an interview time with me:

3 October, 2009
Member of the Academy Community:

My name is Linda Duke and I am an Affiliate Fellow in residence at the Academy for four weeks, Sept. 28-Oct. 26, 2009. Back home, I serve as Director of Education at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. While in residence in Rome, I hope to collect from members of the Academy community descriptions of and reflections on their recent aesthetic experiences – with works of art, architecture and other design arts, gardens and thoughtfully-prepared food.

View from AAR balcony

Volunteers will be invited to speak or write about whichever experiences they choose and may participate as many times as they wish. There are precedents for using language as a window into the types of thinking that are engaged (see below). In this project, it will be important to capture participants’ actual words, via audio recording or in written form. My interest is in examining what commonalities of critical and aesthetic thought might be found across the domains of art, design and culinary art.

If such commonalities can be documented, the implications for educators in any of the three areas would be significant. They would indicate that experiences with the tastes, textures, aromas and appearances of food – experiences that are commonly enjoyed – could be used as an entry point for expanding young people’s capacities for noticing, describing and other activities and mental habits that are fundamental to appreciating art and design. Noticing, wondering, savoring – these mental activities slow us down and put our full attention in the present moment, connect our senses and emotions, and often prompt us to make links to related knowledge from past experiences. Engagement with the arts both fosters and requires these activities. So does the enjoyment of real food, the kind of food that nourishes body and spirit with its sensual beauty. Rich or poor, urban or rural, people, including school children, enjoy food. I hope the data I collect might provide an argument for educators to more often exploit the use of language – in discussion and writing  – related to direct, personal experiences with art, design and food to enhance aesthetic development and awareness. I anticipate writing one or more articles describing what I learn in this project.

AAR Pranza

A well-known model for using discussion and writing to support aesthetic growth and development related to viewing works of art is Visual Thinking Strategies, or VTS, a discussion-based approach to teaching in museum galleries, a professional development program for classroom teachers, and an image curriculum based on the research of psychologist Abigail Housen. VTS is the basis of the IMA’s highly regarded Viewfinders program in several Central Indiana school districts. In her basic research, Housen has demonstrated that language can be used as a kind of window into thinking and, therefore, into the changes in thinking that occur with aesthetic growth. Housen and others have shown that VTS supports aesthetic development in controlled studies. She has also demonstrated that aesthetic thought can be shown to overlap with what is more generally called critical and creative thought. This makes the implications of a program such as VTS, as well as the promotion of aesthetic development itself, important for educators very broadly, beyond the disciplines of art or art history. If aesthetic development is very similar – if not identical – to the development of critical and agile thinking in any field or arena, then the term “aesthetic” is due for a make-over. Instead of referring to something effete and impractical, it may be understood to be an essential aspect of human consciousness and creativity.

For my Academy project, I imagine applying some of the same techniques for gathering language that Housen has developed, expanding them to elicit language describing experiences in the three arenas. With nearly 20 years of professional experience in facilitating discussions about art, I look forward to exploring the potential for fostering discussions of the three arenas (art, design, food) with the Academy residents. I hope that the raw data I collect – the recorded interviews and discussions – might be of interest to others who have the scientific training to analyze them through the lenses of linguistic anthropology and developmental psychology. I am currently seeking collaborators who might play this role. Developmental psychologist Karin DeSantis has agreed to review the material. I hope to engage the assistance of a linguistic anthropologist as well. I imagine these specialists might look at language from several points of view. When and why do people pull terms from other domains? For example, when is it helpful or even necessary to describe a painting’s colors as luscious, a building’s roofline as inspiring, or a pastry crust as heartbreakingly flaky? Do these kinds of appropriations occur more often when people have more or different kinds of experience with art, design or food?

Chefs in AAR

A few words about the usefulness of initiating this project at the American Academy are in order. A quick scan of the impressive list of scholars and artists who are in residence shows that this is a gathering of gifted and uniquely experienced people. So this project is not about collecting samples that would be considered “average” in any way. However, it is an opportunity to learn how much variation there might be between the kind of noticing, reflecting, and wondering an individual directs to an experience with a painting and a building, or a garden, or a seasonal dish. The Academy may afford the opportunity to gather data from individuals who have highly developed critical thinking skills in at least one arena, and to examine whether and how those show up in a non-specialty arena.

The fact that internationally renowned chef and food educator Alice Waters has recently helped the Academy overhaul its dining program is a plus (In Rome, the Academy Learns to Cook, by Elisabeth Rosenthal, NY Times, 3/15/09). That fact ensures that some of the residents will have noticed the quality of the produce and other foodstuffs brought in for meals, as well as the nuances of preparation and flavor juxtapositions. Back at the IMA, educators have been considering opportunities to partner with that organization’s new food provider, Nourish Café.  They’d like to experiment with educational programs that might link thoughtful sensory experiences with food to thoughtful experiences with works of visual art. For me, the opportunity to learn first hand about how a fellow arts organization, the American Academy in Rome, is pursuing this idea will be very useful and timely.

Thank you for your consideration.

Linda Duke
Director of Education, Indianapolis Museum of Art

A few days after sending this, I decided that some interviewees would feel more comfortable if I asked them to choose a picture to discuss. I paid a visit to the wonderful photo archive and was able to get digital images of Academy gardens, the historic Villa, works of art made by artist Fellows, and the nearby Tempietto of Bramante.

Bass and Kitchen Gardens at the Academy

I grateful to say that I have been able to record some wonderfully thoughtful interviews. One of the first was with Alexandra Vinciguerra, the master gardener who has restored all of the Academy’s gardens – the Bass Garden and kitchen gardens at the main building as well as the historic gardens of the Villa Aurelia just down the street. I’ve interviewed the master chefs and interns in the kitchen as they chopped and stirred. I’ve captured the thoughts of scholars about their work here. They talk about the buildings, paintings, music and ruins that have captivated them and sometimes drawn them into relationships lasting decades. The artists and musicians have also given me some astonishing and thought-provoking interviews – fueling my growing sense that our culture needs to better understand that range of aesthetic thinking and the role of the senses in understanding our world and lives. I started with a simple idea: collect samples of language people use to describe aesthetic experiences and see what similarities are found across domains of experience from the arts to design to food. I now feel I have material that begs to be looked from other angles as well.

The Pharmacy prescribes the following links to combat Monday online anemia.

Blog: My Parents Were Awesome

New inspired crowd-sourcing blog, ‘My Parents Were Awesome‘, collects evidence that, “before the fanny packs and Andrea Bocelli concerts, your parents (and grandparents) were once free-wheeling, fashion-forward, and super awesome.”

(via buzzfeed)

ArtBabble Video: Orly Genger: In The Factory

IMA Work of Art:

Dog Stealing Fish by Ando Hiroshige

Tweet:

iheartSAM: Construction to fix hammering man begins this week. Read @seattletimes coverage on him at http://bit.ly/4lScXc http://bit.ly/2RGYbi

A full house (Photo by IMA Photography Dept.)

Osso (Photo by IMA Photography Dept.)

DM Stith and Osso (Photo by IMA Photography Dept.)

But I hope we have that same problem Saturday night November 7 at The Toby for Caddy! Caddy! Caddy! What’s that, you say? Caddy is an elusive character in the novels of William Faulkner. We describe the performance as southern-gothic-meets-Japanese-avant-garde. Ill-fitting wigs, chalky white faces, and 4-point barbed wire are the visuals. Slow, grotesque movements are the path to the unconscious. Oguri (below) is the single name of the Los Angeles-based dancer who created Caddy!

Oguri (Photo by Steven A. Gunther)

Oguri is a master of butoh, a radical yet subtle style of Japanese dance. The first person to perform butoh was Tatsumi Hijikata, in 1950s Japan. Here’s how Oguri himself tells it: “In Japan, there was folkdance, ballet, and modern dance. Performers presented seven-minute pieces for a classy, sophisticated audience. Hijikata comes along half naked and shines the light in the audience’s eyes. He killed a chicken on stage, and the little girls fainted and he was kicked out. After he was expelled, people sought him out because he seemed so cool, and at the time, many people had the same antiestablishment sense.”

Hear ye, hear ye. If you are antiestablishment in Indy, I am summoning you to The Toby this Saturday for Caddy!, which invites you to consider your nightmares. To look into “the mirror which thaws fear.” To observe disconnection. To confront pain.

The Nutcracker it is not. And, anybody with a ticket stub from a recent Toby event gets in half-price; students of any age are free with ID. I dare you to be there…

Visit the IMA Blog tomorrow for a full interview with choreographer and dancer Oguri.

The Pharmacy prescribes the following links to combat Monday online anemia.

Blog: Vogel Appliance Blog

Flashy? No. Practical? Oh yes. If you’ve ever wondered how much dish soap you really need, this blog is for you.  This local appliance blog gives you tips and tricks that might help you save serious moolah come the winter season. And it’s coming soon.

ArtBabble Video: Jean Shin: Common Threads

IMA Work of Art:

Still Life with Profile of Laval by Paul Gauguin

Tweet:

What a great evening at the IMA! Saw Osso, DM Stith, and The BQE with Q&A w/Sufjan Stevens. All were incredible!

Even though I miss my gaudy tropicals terribly I know their demise means the autumnal show is ready to start. And who doesn’t love a good show?

This year the colors are simply spectacular, the reds super intense like the color of first lust, the oranges brilliant as Vegas showgirl costumes, and the yellows absolutely glowing like so many rhinestones on a Porter Wagner jacket. It’s just been a great year to walk about and soak it all in. And it’s lasting a pretty long time too.

I suspect our cooler wetter summer has something to do with the great color. But did you ever wander why the trees and shrubs especially change color? The fact that the trees produce less chlorophyll allowing the red and yellow pigments (carotenoids) to show is fairly common knowledge. The trees also produce more red-purple pigments (anthocyanins). But is that all there is to it? I get regular e-newsletters from my former boss when I interned at the Cincinnati Zoo, Rob Halpern (thanks for the link Katie). He now has his own design/consulting business (ZHCD) and includes in each month’s newsletter a group of links to interesting and sometimes bizarre plant news. In fact these have been such a hit they now have a website devoted to them, plantworldnews.com. Anyway, one of Rob’s recent newsletters included a link about fall color. One theory suggests the reds in autumn color dates back 35 million years when the trees and their insect pests survived a series of ice-ages. Could it be the trees are warning the aphids “my leaves are about to die don’t lay your eggs on me”? It’s a fascinating story you can read in its entirety here. Let me also just say I really wish Rob would sell t-shirts or something with his logo. It’s brilliant.

Okay, enough chatter about color. Let’s look at some color.
Maples of all forms are great this year.

Cornus kousa are well beyond their usual color.

The always reliable Lindera angustifolia are spectacular. I love the glossy oranges and reds these plants develop. And when the leaves do turn brown they hold on til Spring, providing a nice cover for birds and your neighbors prying eyes.

Hydrangea quercifolia is glorious.

How about Hamamelis virginiana in full fall color and full bloom?

Another large shrub looking great this year is Aesculus parviflora draped in bright golden foliage. This native of the Southeast is perfectly happy in the Midwest. And is perfect with the late blooming Aconitum.

Parrotia persica is a tree I would love to see more often. The fall colors are fantastic. Once the leaves drop you have the added value of beautiful bark all winter that, like men, will just get better and better looking with age.

The Liguidambar styracifula ‘Slender Silhouette’ we put in Nonie’s Garden developed the glorious yellows, reds, and burgundys these trees are famous for. While the species becomes a broad pyramidal tree the cultivar Slender Silhouette remains a narrow 4 to 6 feet wide at maturity. I like the clean modern lines of these very vertical plants against the backdrop of the broad horizontal curves of the Efroymson Entrance Pavillion (which isn’t evident in this photo).

Not every year is good for fall color in hostas, but this year the Hosta sieboldiana ‘Elegans’ in Hosta Curve is beautiful in bright amber shades of gold. Lilies even look good.

Just walk around the gardens and everywhere you look there is a beautiful view.

Now let’s compare that fall color to one of Porter’s jackets. Oh, the tragedy of it all. Listen close.

Born mid-1995 in Southern California, GeoCities lived on the world wide web and worked it’s way into the lives of millions by introducing casual internet surfers to pop-ups, pop-unders, animated gifs, and broken html markup until it’s death in 2009.

Survivors include Yahoo, WebCrawler, AOL, Twitter, and countless others. GeoCities was preceded in death by Jeeves, Compuserve, Netscape (the browser), and Angelfire.

Memorial services will be held at http://web.archive.org. Burial will be at http://geocities.yahoo.com/. Relatives, friends, memes, trolls, and search bots are welcome.

There are several websites that made a splash via GeoCities. Kate confessed to having a fan page of some sort at one point in time… and I had a few pages lurking out there somewhere too, though I’m struggling to remember what they were. Without GeoCities, we wouldn’t have the Icy Hot Stuntaz. Thankfully, the content will never die. Find a nice collection of screen captures of classic GeoCities websites at Internet Archaeology.