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ART 493 SMP Writing Statement Writing: Wall Text and Docbook
Introductions What should they include?
How are they different? All statements: á Coherently address the primary goal/idea of your work. But, there are many ways ÒgoalsÓ
can be stated: o
Direct
statement of intention o
Questions you
have been asking yourself o
Specific
problems you are trying to solve o
The issue(s)
that is most important to you o
Why you make
art/ your purpose o
Motivations á These statements of intentions must be accompanied
by the context of ideas that
frames your concerns. á Provide a step-by-step
explanation of ideas. Complex ideas must be ÔconstructedÕ by a number of
coordinated sentences that build, step by step, to make the larger point. á Be concrete! But be sure that you ground your comments in the
work itself. Avoid being overly general or vague! Use examples, effective
analogies, and common instances. Wall Tag: The wall tag is
read while in front of the artwork thusÉ á It has to be shorter (between 200- 300 words) á Description is often not necessary (your audience is
looking at the work) but process explanations might be
. á It should succinctly address the primary goal/idea
of the work at hand (a general statement might be more broadly directed.) But
it still should have some contextual remarks. á Questions are an interesting approach (audience is
prompted to ask and answer and the work itself is a type of answer). Example
(from Greenfield) These new technologies are extensions
of ourselves, tools that we use in order to have
more control over the world around us. However, at what point do they end up
controlling us? ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Examples of Docbook Introductions Compared to Wall Tags
Note how the wall tag text
is excerpted from the longer introduction (the text in
red). Only the italicized text
in wall tag is new text. Elise Kielek Introduction First Things First I have always found myself fascinated with the impossible worlds
of make believe. Ever since I was
a child, I have been engaged with fairy tales and the invention of places
that seem too foreign and fantastic to be real. I have carried this mentality from my
youth into my artwork, moving from watercolor illustration into the realm of
three-dimensional construction of imaginary spaces. When I began my SMP, I
struggled to find the medium through which I could best form these worlds of
my imagination. I have always
worked in watercolor and ink in the context of illustrated childrenÕs books.
I thought I would continue using these same mediums but as I preceded, I
realized that this was not enough.
I had an impulse to build these worlds in order for them to become
more real. I needed the viewer to
have a tangible connection with the work in order to see that the structure,
the space, could be possible. This began my exploration
into the realm of small worlds and dioramas. I built OliverÕs Travels, three diorama boxes depicting the story of a
young boy who falls asleep during his mathematics class. Accompanying these boxes was a short
narrative of the story that the boxes told. I began to realize more and more that
if I wanted the works I was building to encompass the same magical fantasy
that is captured within a childÕs dream and the inner workings of their
imaginative minds, that I could not structure the narratives quite so
forcefully. This realization began my
understanding that to create a world is to create a mystery. Throughout
the remainder of my first SMP semester,
I have been creating and then photographing models
of spaces from my own imagination that evoke feelings of mystery and the
ethereal and haunting qualities of dream worlds. Through photography, a medium that
suggests reality and documentation, I attempt to capture the moments through
which the world of reality and the world of the
fantastic dream cross over, enveloping the viewer in a state of altered
belief. I challenge them to question whether the image I provide is a real
and existing space, or whether they must dispel it as a fantasy, or a fairy
tale. I urge them to, just for a
moment, believe in the impossible reality of these spaces. I tend to draw
from iconic images within childrenÕs stories and fairy tales: an enchanted
bedroom forest, a troll behind the curtain, a monster under the stairs, a castle in the sky.
With these images, I gesture toward the imagination that we once had
as children when we believed that anything was possible. With
this nostalgia in mind, my images place interesting and ominous twists on the
content that we may slightly recognize.
Without explanation of the connection to the recognizable facets of
other stories, the viewer is left to create their own meaning and their own
story. This is when the work I have created truly captures fantastic and
dream-like experiences like those in the mind of a child. I hope to continue exploring these
themes of the open narrative, references to the realm of childrenÕs stories,
questioning reality, and the construction of space through my future in SMP
2. It is obvious through my
discoveries this semester that I have only begun to scratch the surface of
the intriguing world of constructing and deconstructing the realm of the
dream. This document book is constructed to show a progression of my ideas,
artworks, and written responses throughout the semester. It is designed to demonstrate my
understanding of myself as an artist through my own narrative. Wall Text Throughout this semester, I
have been creating and then photographing models of spaces from my own
imagination that evoke feelings of mystery and the ethereal and haunting
qualities of dream worlds. Through
photography, a medium that suggests reality and documentation, I attempt to
capture the moments through which the world of reality and the world of the
fantastic dream cross over, enveloping the viewer in a state of altered
belief. I challenge them to
question whether the image I provide is a real and existing space, or whether
they must dispel it as a fantasy, or a fairy tale. I urge them to, just
for a moment, believe in the impossible reality of these spaces. I tend
to draw from iconic images within childrenÕs stories and fairy tales: an
enchanted bedroom forest, a troll behind the curtain, a monster under the
stairs, a castle in the sky. With these
images, I gesture toward the imagination that we once had as children when we
believed that anything was possible. The works included in this exhibition show my
progression over the past four months. Oliver's Travels was my earliest
work; a sequence of three photographs of diorama boxes that depict the
travels of a young boy in the world of his dreams. Next, The Dollhouse
Series, a work that began as an exploration of a young girlÕs playful
imagination, has come to express the unsettling and ominous world that dreams
can truly represent rather than the lighthearted imaginings of the daydream.
Finally, Forest Dwelling and Sky Dwelling are the products of my desire to
represent the elemental landscape. They are my creation of miniature
worlds, providing ample space for the viewer to create their own narrative,
and ultimately fill the workÕs meaning with their own imaginative
curiosity. Remina Greenfield INTRODUCTION The root of nearly
all human activities is the urge to control. We want the power to mold ourselves and our surroundings according to our needs and
desires, and we fear things that are unpredictable or unfamiliar. It is due to this desire that we look for systems in
everything we encounter. Since the Enlightenment, Western thought has
centered on the idea that the world is essentially governed
by dependable laws, such as those of logic, physics, mathematics, and
chemistry. We use these laws to analyze everything from the smallest
microorganism to the most complex of conceptual theories. With enough
diligence and meticulous study, we believe we can unlock the secrets of
virtually anything. Humans
do not only study pre-existing systems, we create new ones. Manmade systems
help us organize, regulate, and connect to one another. One of the most interesting and powerful of manmade systems is encoded
information. We use information technology to create tools such as digital
cameras, computers, iPods, and smart phones, which help us to record, store,
and share information and ideas. We see these new technologies as extensions
of ourselves, tools that we use in order to have more control over the world
around us. However, as new technology becomes increasingly powerful and
integrated into our lives, at what point does it end up controlling us?
We are currently overwhelmed by the exponential rate at which new devices are
being developed; we barely have he chance to understand and use a new tool
before an even newer one has
appeared to take its place. Our obsession with obtaining the latest, most powerful
technology reflects our inability to be satisfied with what we have. We want
everything to run faster, smoother, and more efficiently and we engineer new
tools to meet these demands. We have even begun to demand more from our own
bodies, enhancing them with plastic surgery, mechanical augmentations, and
genetic engineering. The goal of my
artwork is not to inspire a fear of technology, but to initiate a more
thoughtful consideration of the ways it affects us. What can our inventions
tell us as reflections of ourselves? I
want to comment on the materialistic, systematic way in which we view the
world and how that affects our idea of self. I am comparing the two encoded
information systems that have the greatest effect on us: DNA (which is
biological) and computer code (which is manmade). I do not use any editing program
to create the images in my work, beyond changing the overall format of
the image (i.e. from a Tiff to a Jpeg). I open images in TextEdit and directly alter the code in order to
create interesting and provocative images. Although I am
not well versed in computer programming, I study the code through
experimentation and have begun to understand it to the point where I can
create my own compositions. The images are not the result of
unexpected changes; each one is intentional. The process I use to make these works
is very important to me because it mirrors the way that we analyze and experiment
with nearly everything around us. We attempt to increase our understanding
and therefore have greater control over all aspects of life. Wall Tag The
root of nearly all human activities is the urge to control. We want the power
to mold ourselves and our surroundings according to our
needs and desires. As our
scientific knowledge advances, we transform that knowledge into power through
the development of technological systems. One of the most powerful of
manmade systems is encoded information. We use information technology to
create tools such as digital cameras, computers, iPods, and smart phones.
These new technologies are extensions of ourselves,
tools that we use in order to have more control over the world around us. However, at what point do they end up
controlling us? Our
obsession with obtaining the latest, most powerful technology reflects our
inability to be satisfied with what we have. We want everything to run
faster, smoother, and more efficiently and we engineer new tools to meet
these demands. We have even begun to demand more from our own bodies,
enhancing them with plastic surgery, mechanical augmentations, and genetic
engineering. It seems that we are
approaching an evolutionary climax, a point when our technology will
literally become a part of us. The
goal of my artwork is not to inspire a fear of technology, but to initiate a
more thoughtful consideration of the ways it affects us. What can our
inventions tell us as reflections of ourselves? My artworks compare the two
encoded information systems that have the greatest effect on us: DNA and
computer code. To create my images, I do not use any visual editing software
– I open images as text files and directly alter the code. Though I am
not well versed in computer programming, I have studied the code through
experimentation and can create my own compositions. The images are not the
result of unexpected changes. Each one is intentional. This process mirrors the way we
analyze and experiment, attempting to understand and control all aspects of
life. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Jenny Metz Introduction: For
a very long time, IÕve been interested in the act of looking – one of
my first words was Òlook,Ó which became my way of sharing with others what I
was seeing. Now, I hope that my artwork brings to the viewer that same sense
of wonder about the environment that has captivated me for so long. My current
body of work consists of photographic collages that manipulate the subject by
deconstructing it, calling attention to two types of vision: the way the
camera lens sees and the way the human eye sees. By dismantling what we would
normally consider a ÒwholeÓ image into small parts and removing parts from
the whole, the fixed nature of the image is deconstructed and the
conventional nature of the photograph is destroyed. To
understand my work, it is important to realize that the view captured through
the camera's lens is unlike natural eyesight. The camera is monocular (single
lens) and thus creates a flatter viewing experience. Human eyesight, however,
is stereoscopic (the synthesis two vantage points) and is therefore a 3D
experience. The camera lens, unlike human sight, often creates varying
degrees of distortion such as occurs with the fish eye effect of a wide angle
lens. Additionally, while a cameraÕs depth of field is fixed, making some
areas out of focus, the human eye automatically refocuses and therefore
everything appears in focus. Finally, while the cameraÕs field of vision is
always contained within a frame, the peripheral nature of human vision means
we never experience a containing edge, making seeing appear continuous as we
pan from point to point. People have grown
too accustomed to photographic seeing, passively accepting photographs as an
accurate depiction of the world. My collages bring our attention to the
differences between these two types of seeing by going against the notions of
the conventional photograph through splitting a complete image into smaller
parts and removing some parts completely. Multiple snapshots placed on top of
one another repeatedly impose the rectangular frame, breaking apart single
elements in the landscape. The subtle
distortion created by the lens that is usually unnoticeable in a single large
image is magnified because of its frequent occurrence in a single landscape.
It becomes the reason why adjacent images donÕt perfectly match up; depending
on my location, the depth of field, and the object in focus, lens distortion
contributes to the lack of perfect continuity between images. The viewer is able to recognize that
the collage of images goes beyond the flatness of a single snapshot, but does
not quite reflect how people actually view the world. During the process of
shooting, I focus on small sections of an environment and move through it as
I photograph. Photographing parts of a landscape and then collaging them
together allows the scenes to be much more dynamic: the accumulation of
distinct images, not a static whole image, interrupts the continuity of
seeing. Adding
sculptural depth to my collaged parts furthers this interruption in that the
alignment of individual pieces change when the viewerÕs point of view
changes. The viewer is forced to actively make connections between
photographs: for example, a linear element may be more continuous when
viewing from the side of the work rather than the front. Physically
projecting the image into space forces the viewer to interact with it, rather
than passively glance at it like they might a conventional photograph. By
dismantling and layering the images, I force my audience to actively
reconstitute wholes from multiple parts, thus making them reexamine the
familiar. The viewer is either forced to find and create connections between
these areas, using their past experience with such familiar locations and
imaginations to fill in these areas or they recognize their inability to fill
in these areas, encouraging them to view the world in a more active manner. The places I choose to photograph attract me because
they are unexceptional and are usually ones we take for granted. This calls
attention to views that usually appear singular and seamless. An overpass
that is about being one fluid, continuous sweep but I reimage it as broken down
into parts, forcing the viewer to take a second look. I have been greatly
influenced by David Hockney's ideas about
displaying the ordinary to ultimately transform how we view the world. Like Hockney, I too hope that my work will be used to make
people see
the world more vividly: leading people from merely accepting the
things around them to actively looking
at the world in which they lived. I want them to stop dismissing environments
because of their familiarity and instead search within them for that which makes
them unique. Wall Tag: My
current body of work consists of photographic collages that manipulate the
subject by deconstructing it, calling attention to two types of vision: the
way the camera lens sees and the way the human eye sees. By dismantling what
we would normally consider a ÒwholeÓ image into small parts and removing
parts from that whole, the fixed nature of the image is deconstructed. People
have grown too accustomed to photographic seeing, passively accepting
photographs as an accurate depiction of the world. Multiple snapshots placed
on top of one another repeatedly impose the rectangular frame, breaking apart
single elements in the landscape. The subtle distortion created by the lens
that is usually unnoticeable in a single large image is magnified because of
its frequent occurrence in a single landscape. By dismantling and layering
the images, I force my audience to actively reconstitute wholes from multiple
parts, thus making them reexamine the familiar. My ultimate goal with this work is to encourage the audience to
actively engage with and examine their environments rather than remain
passive viewers who merely accept the world around them. My work is about seeing
more vividly: finding the unique in the
familiar. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Laura Hauser Document Book Introduction Foreword: Identity in
Formation I
have always been intrigued by the art of storytelling and the relationship
between text and image within childrenÕs picture books. When contemplating my St. MaryÕs
Project exploring this topic seemed to be the perfect culmination of my
various studies at St MaryÕs College, incorporating both my interests in art
and English. However there remained several missing pieces in the puzzle that
was to become my final capstone project.
I wasnÕt sure what story I wanted to tell and how that story would
relate with my decision to create a picture book for children. At first I considered creating a story
about sustainable farming as a way to share the message of environmental
awareness with children. I had worked at a farm, and had the appropriate
experience and interest in the topic.
However after wrestling with finding a plot, I found the topic too
restrained. I realized that I was putting too many limitations on my creative
process. The feedback I received on my initial ideas helped me realize I
needed to broaden my parameters thereby allowing myself the opportunity to
experiment with the book format and the different types of illustration
before settling on a content topic.
I realized that rather than arbitrarily choosing content I needed to
create stronger connections between the physical presentation of the book, my
own experience as an artist, and the underlying message of the narrative. Interested
in the folk-art method of paper cutting, I explored the art of ÒscherenschnitteÓ and began to understand the act of paper cutting as a process of formation. Pieces of paper are subtracted and added, as a
way to physically transform the identity of the material. This same theme of identity formation
occurs within the narrative I created. My book tells the adventure of a
little girl in an unfamiliar city that ultimately ends in a revelation of
self-discovery. Identities are formed, much like paper cutting, through a
process of transformation, but instead of physical manipulation, we are the
product of our experiences. Where
we come from, the people we know, and all of our life circumstances form us
into unique individuals. As CharliÕs identity
solidifies over time she finds herself wearing various ÒhatsÓ (hats serving
as symbols of identity within the story) until she eventually realizes none
of those ÒhatsÓ were right for her.
As an artist I found myself trying on various ÒhatsÓ as I went through
a process of self-discovery developing the narrative and illustrations while
coming to terms with my own style of storytelling. I learn more about Charli,
paper cutting, and myself everyday and I am not yet finished with my own
adventure. One of the most
important aspects I have taken away from my work thus far is that an identity
cannot simply be dreamed overnight, instead it must be ripped and cut and
snipped over time. The self is not a discovery, but a creation. Wall Tag This
past August I began exploring the art of paper design as a way to create a picturebook. At first, I focused on technique not sure
what story I wanted to tell, but as I worked, it became clear how the act of
paper cutting, a process of formation,
might also serve as an underlying theme for my story.
The works presented in this exhibition are a sampling of illustrations
ultimately meant to be part of a childrenÕs picture book titled CharliÕs Hat. In
paper cutting, pieces of paper are subtracted and added as a way to
physically transform the identity of the material. This same theme of
identity formation occurs within the narrative of my book. A little girl named Charli
goes on an adventure in an unfamiliar city that ultimately ends in a
revelation of self-discovery.
Identity is formed much like paper cuts through a process of
transformation. However instead
of physical manipulation, we are the product of our experiences. Where we
come from, the people we know, and all of our life circumstances form us into
unique individuals. As CharliÕs
identity solidifies over time she finds herself wearing various ÒhatsÓ which
serve as symbols of identity within the story. As an artist I found myself
trying on various ÒhatsÓ as I went through a process of self-discovery,
developing the narrative and illustrations of my book while coming to terms
with my style of storytelling. I
learn more about Charli, paper cutting, and myself
all the time and I am not yet finished with my own adventure. One of the most important lessons I
have learned from my work thus far is that an identity cannot simply be
dreamed up overnight; instead, it must be cut and shaped over time. The self
is not a discovery, but a creation. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Koko Olszewski Introduction To
me, art has always been a means of understanding the world around me. In high
school, art was a series of experiences rooted in self-expression. And while
this was beneficial to my development as both an individual and an art maker,
I was always rather uncomfortable with the singular, exclusive nature of it.
I first came in to contact with art as that extended beyond the self when I
was volunteering at a non-profit in Baltimore in high school. I spent
weekends and summers at the office (a converted row house on North Charles
Street) and out in Baltimore City learning about community, resources,
poverty, HIV, addiction, and gentrification. It was here that I saw that art
could use this self-expression and identity development to be a voice in the
community. We would make collaborative murals on the boards that substituted
for doors of row houses that had been left for dead. We built cities out of
recycled bottles and made quilts about social justice. From this time on, I
wanted art to be much more than simply an expression of myself, but rather a
coming together of voices to tell a larger, more complex narrative. In my
sophomore year of college I had the privilege of taking a life changing
photojournalism class with Gabriela Bulisova. Our
final project was to tell the story property rights. After talking to
Professor Julie King, I was made aware of the Lexington Manner community
known as the Flattops. Through interviews with a former resident and local
government officials, I was able to gain a new perspective on the very place
I had been living in for two years. With support and encouragement from
Gabriela, I was able to create a visual story that expressed the inadequacies
of the local government, the abandonment of a community, and the displacement
of the people who made up this community. This experience lead to my involvement
with habitat for humanity. My
hope is that this quilt will act as both a canvas to tell stories as well as
a meeting ground for dialogue. My intention is not for this to be a
traditional quilt, but rather a metaphor for separate entities coming together
to create a whole. Despite the fact that we are all living in the same
geographical location, our experiences of housing and home vary. Coming
together, despite differences in gender, ethnicity, race, income, age, and
ability, is exactly what community means to me. ItÕs a dialogue that works
towards celebrating those differences. While this quilt may be a long road
away from that celebration, it is my hope that it can generate the necessary
discourse to facilitate the development of a more unified community based on
respectful and compassionate relationships. Wall Tag To me, art is not a skill or a
talent, but rather a tool that can be used to help us better
understand ourselves, each other, and the world. I want to redefine the
traditional conception of art as creative self-expression and show others how
powerful this tool can be if they want to use it. My ultimate goal is to
bring people closer together. Through the act of making meaning and sharing
our experiences we begin to recognize the complexity of the human experience.
Expanded perception ignites an openness and empathy towards othersÕ
experiences. The development of self through art making in the form of
articulation of experiences is the facilitator to begin a discourse in
understanding and appreciating the beauty of diversity. |