Friday, February 22, 2013

Responses to Kaprow, Weschler, Saunders

Response to Kaprow:

The example used - brushing one's teeth - is brilliant.  This is something
everyone who reads the article does (or should do, anyways), and most likely
have been doing does in a similar "routinized, nonconscious" manner.  Bringing
this to the readers attention will almost certainly result in a conscious
change in the act of brushing one's teeth the next time it is done - it will be
a consciously analyzed act yet again, as it was once when the reader was likely
much younger.  I'm always impressed when something I read actually changes my
life once I've finished reading it.

However, I'm not entirely sure I grasped the point the author was trying to
make.  The activity of brushing one's teeth isn't traditionally considered art,
true.  Its placement outside of the traditional gallery also makes it unusual.
Then what makes it art?  I'm not saying it is not art, but that the author did
not quite get the idea across to me.

Response to Weschler:

When someone loses a physical thing, it is obvious that the physical loss would
be difficult.  Typically, focus is then brought on other things.  The real loss
is the emotional loss, the loss of space, what the things represented, etc.
Here, however, a character turned that back around: the loss was very much
about the loss of the physical objects themselves.  The choice to elevate the
normally base is quite an interesting one.

There is nothing in particular that is difficult or problematic about this
article that I can pinpoint.

Response to Saunders:

The opening airplane scene was a brilliant choice to generate interest from the
reader.  When I began reading the article I really wasn't all that interested
in it and was mostly just going through the motions.  However, the scene
certainly grabbed my attention.

The repeated topic matter of death was quite a depressing and, I feel,
unoriginal.  People have been dying - and writing about dying - for as long as
writing has existed.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Response to Cardiff and Miller

Response to Cardiff and Miller:

It is terribly easy fall into the trap of making a piece like this dry and
boring.  The ultimate excitement of the piece - the powerful experience of
witnessing the art - is something the reader cannot do.  Not even a picture.
However, surprise is usually interesting, and in the author's experience there
were at least two surprises: the boom of the "Forest" and the unexpected nature
of Fritz's identity.  I hence approve of how the author attempted to have the
reader mimic this his own response by cutting off a sentence mid-way and
initially mislead us as to Fritz's identity.

What I disliked was the complete absence of visuals.  While the focus of the
pieces were aural, not visual, each had a visual component.  Part of what,
presumably, makes the "Forest" piece so real was the imagery tied to the sound.
Similarly, seeing the "Forty-part Motet" and its array of speakers would have
been quite interesting.

Response to Hornby

Response to Hornby:

The story was about Dave's reaction to his first real exposure to the art
world.  It was important that Dave be relatively uncultured going into it or
have put much thought into art.  However, the author could not simply state
"Dave is not overly cultured and has not put much thought into art", because
that would be overly direct.  Instead, by telling the story from Dave's point
of view, we not only learn the story itself but are able to make inferences
about his level of culture from his style of speech.  I quite liked this fact.

At the same time, however, it made the piece much more difficult to read.  I'm
accustomed to reading "proper" English, and I found reading something something
more akin to how people actually talk challenging.  I would have to read some
sections more than once in order to determine exactly what the narrator was
trying to get across.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Micro-Assignment 2

Micro-Assignment 2

In preparation for this assignment I made a conscious effort to pay attention to what I do when I go to class.  What I've found was that I do very, very little.  I become myopic: I focus on my goal and how to get there.  I take in absolutely no notice of the feel of the taste of the air as I walk to class or the feeling of the texture of the lining of my pockets.  Only after I get to class, sit in my chair, and open up the computer program I use to take notes does it hit me that it was extremely cold and I should have taken a coat or that it was raining and I'm soaked.

What I do do is mentally track my position relative to my goal and focus on recognizing landmarks which indicate when I need to turn.  I don't look at things like street signs or address numbers for directions, as these may not be visible along my path.  Rather, I look at the outlines of the buildings that tower over me as I walk to class.  When I see a given building's silhouette, I know to turn.

Thus, the picture below.  No sound or smell or touch or taste, nor planes of color or grain or pattern: just outlines of buildings.  The colors I use are false color - they are simply there to indicate a conscious differentiation between buildings, because I do make such differentiations while walking to class.  I have passed this building, next I must look for that building.

I also consciously avoided providing a sense of direction along the path.  I have found that when someone I know passes by me on the path visualized below and waves or says hello they wake me from my robotic stupor and cause me to lose track of what I was doing.  Was I going to class, or from it?

Finally, I felt I should note that I made the outlines of the buildings glow for a very well thought out reason:  it looks cool.