Katrina Allen

Jones’ primary thesis of the article, “Computer Graphics: Effects of Origin” is about the effect of cultural patterns on the practice of creating. Essentially, she states that cultural patterns are embedded in the creation of material – in this case specifically, computer graphics. She says of cultural patterns: “they may fade or become more evident… they may be deemphasized or emphasized.” (Jones, 21) To summarize, Jones looks at the influence of old forms of art on the new, especially in terms of its influence on computer technology and graphics.

Jones highlights a number of historical examples that serve as analogies to support her primary thesis. One such analogy refers to the Second West Computer Faire of 1978, wherein early views of potential uses for electricity and those of potential uses for the computer were challenged. Prior to the suggestions at this fair, “electricity had been considered theoretically interesting but of little or no practical value. “ (Jones, 21) It was at this fair that the potential for “widespread and multiple uses of microcomputers by the general public” (Jones, 21) was considered.

A similar illustration of the melding from old to new that Jones highlights in her work and writing is, I would say, the performance of old music. To many, the music I am referring to is “classical” music. Of course, the genres and time periods that encompass the music commonly referred to as classical span thousands of years and encompass a multitude of genres. In fact, the classical period was only a small blip in comparison to other eras of Western music. However, I think that the practice of performing and studying such music from so long ago is similar to this situation – though musicians bring as much to their work and performance that is “stylistically appropriate,” we are all still in 2014 and thus it is not exactly the same as it was hundreds of years ago.

Though not a direct analogy to the issues Jones discusses here, “classical” music in the modern world is a compelling issue. Composer and author Alex Temple discusses the issue of cultural relevance. It is this question that I do think has some comparisons to Jones’ thesis – the issue of new and old, for example. Temple says: “I don’t think it’s bad to make something that seems like it’s from another era. There’s room in the world for all kinds of art… but I also think that ‘how does this relate to other things from its own time?’ is a more productive question…” (Temple)

Temple, A. (2014) How to be culturally relevant. New Music Box. Retrieved from: http://www.newmusicbox.org/articles/how-to-be-culturally-relevant/ on June 1, 2014.

Jones, B. J. (1990). Computer Graphics: Effects of Origins. The MIT Press: Leonardo, 3, 21-30

keywords: dissonance, contrast, fiery, passion, patience

The issue of copyright is a complex one. Put simply, Read/Write culture is constrained by copyright, while Read Only culture is complemented by it. Lessig says that the solution to the issue is two-fold: first, artists and creators should embrace their work as being available more freely, while businesses should embrace the opportunity to enable these ideas to grow. He says these solutions need to exist together on a “neutral platform… so that more free can compete with less free and the opportunity to develop the creativity in that competition can teach one something about the other.”  (Larry Lessig, as recorded from TEDtalk: Laws that Choke Creativity)

Nate Harrison also proposes the paradox of the copyright – essentially that the actual artists do not benefit and are actually negatively affected, while corporations benefit from copyright to an extreme. His solution seems to be to do away with the concept almost altogether; he refers to culture as a whole as something that “grows by accretion.” Nothing in art or creation is inherently “new.”

With these viewpoints in mind, how might we utilize the concept of copyright to allow for creative expression in all people while not devaluing the job of the professional artist? Is this at all possible?

Jones refers to the practice of “faking it” that scientists have come to use in their work with hardware and software. To make an extremely watered-down summary, scientists of computer technology/graphics draw upon aspects of artistic influence to inform and improve their work. (Note: the specific excerpt I am referring to is included below.)

Jane McGonigal also alludes to a similar (or at least relatively comparable) practice in her research on gaming and gamers. Her eventual conclusion is that through extended practice of game-simulated events (such as how to survive in a “World Without Oil”), participants will actually be able to apply these habits to the real world.

The well-known anecdote, “fake it ‘til you make it” comes to mind here – do you think these examples are valid uses of the concept? Is there any evidence of the effectiveness of this concept in other areas – specifically in regards to art?

Jones Excerpt:

“When scientists take these techniques to their logical limits in the technical/scientific realm, they find that they need to borrow the concepts and methods of artistic practice in order to create graphic images that look more real than images based solely on algorithms. Scientists label this practice with terms such as ‘faking it’, revealing continued ambivalence about the relative value of visual reality…compared to scientific reality.” (Jones, 58)

How do you define “spirituality”?

At first, the simplest definition of spirituality was that it is a kind of proof or justification for the human soul and spirit. I also think spirituality deals with the immaterial; it deals with the ethereal –it is a way of giving meaning to things in the world that are perhaps not satisfactorily explained by science, logic or reason. It is a reason to have a human spirit and soul.  There are some things –  for instance, the crippling beauty and feeling of profundity one feels at the top of a mountain with the beauty and vastness of the world around you – which prompt feelings of deep spirituality. It is the (while completely logically explained) unexplainable feeling that we are connected to the earth and the earth is connected to us; there is an unseen but not unfelt energy that flows between the vessels of nature and human spirit. So, perhaps spirituality is the connection to nature. On the other hand, perhaps spirituality is merely the collective hope that humans are meant to be here on this planet, and it is the shared hope that creates energy enough to give those that seek it some realm of understanding and peace.

Does spirituality differ from religion?

I believe spirituality does differ from religion, because it is a more individualized sense of belief in a higher power of some sort. There are not necessarily rules which govern one’s path to enlightenment or peak spirituality, whereas religion thrives on the utilization of rules in order to control mass groups of people at once. Some things that set religion apart from spirituality include its strong affinity for organization, some sort of hierarchal system of worship, and a dense set of rules for those who practice must follow to reach some sort of “better place” or peace whether that be nirvana, heaven, etc. Spirituality, I believe, offers peace within oneself and with others around us as we are here on earth.

How would you define “creativity”?

Creativity is the use of imagination. I think there are varying degrees of creativity, but generally, it is the use of imagination to generate or create original ideas, concepts, objects, etc. I believe that one-hundred percent pure originality is hard to achieve, but varying degrees of originality definitely exist. For example, a new shoe designer may be plenty creative, but they’re still designing a shoe, which has already been invented. Originality is still present in the specific designs, so I would define such a thing as creativity. I believe this analogy applies to most other forms of art, if not all.

What is the source of creativity?

The source of creativity is complex to be sure, but I believe it stems from the raw emotions, from the spirit and soul of the creator. This kind of creativity (whether considered high quality art or not) is evident; I think people can definitely sense when someone has poured more than just paint on a canvas. There is a reason paint was used, a reason it was poured, a reason it was created. The reason comes from the artist or creator first, but I believe it stems further than that; it stems from a connection to the ethereal or transcendent, and thus becomes meaningful and powerful. Grey says, “meaning in art is the transmission and reception of symbolic density,” (Grey, 104) and I think this describes well the process of creativity, whose source lays in the realm of the spiritual, whatever that means to the particular artist.

Combining spirituality with art may be an essential aspect to creating meaning in artwork. There are multiple layers to this combination, but the root of it, at least according to Grey, is deeply seeing. There is a difference between looking and seeing; though of course some level of each contribute to inspiration. Grey clearly outlines the differences between looking and “actually seeing.” He says, “seeing occurs when our attention is arrested by a person, object, or scene. Our mind stops chattering and pays attention. We see both the shape of the thing and its meaning to us. We are drawn out of our isolated, self-absorbed state.” (Grey, 72) The reason opening up our minds to deeply see is so important however, is that “seeing is…the recognition of meaning.” (Grey, 73)

Grey discusses several avenues for exploring art and spirituality.  In it’s most summarized form, there are three eyes of knowing (the eye of flesh which sees material objects, the eye of reason which sees symbolically, the mystic eye of contemplation, which sees “luminous transcendental realms”), three qualities of beauty (integritas or wholeness, consonantia or harmony, and claritas or radiance), and seven chakras.

To avoid more summary of the intricate interplay between spirituality and art, I’d like to move back Grey’s point, which is that the ability to see deeply is also the ability to recognize meaning within a work of art. Anne Hamilton, the textile artist in the film “Art:21,” talked about the important metaphors that “cloth offers up.” She described the threads that hold fabric together as a perfect social metaphor for working together; but more than that, each thread and stitch has a purpose, a function, and you can actually see every detail, if you look close enough. I loved this metaphor because it was an extremely straightforward example of  the ways in which works of art have deeper meaning.

Art perhaps offers us an explanation of the spiritual, in addition to being inspired by spirituality. I think that a watered-down description of spirituality is a means to explain humanity. The ultimatum that is our lives – we will eventually  die – is completely terrifying, and even more so if there is no point to our existence. Art is an inexplicable connection to spirituality and meaning. Grey’s worldview is similar:”contact with spiritual ground provides the true basis for meaning in our lives.” (Grey, 106)

Why We Love Scary Movies byRichard Sine

Though we are mostly concerned with supernatural horror, which Carrol defines as art-horror, still other sub-genres remain applicable. Richard Sine, a writer for health and business, summarizes some theories of horror and attempts to explain why some people become enthralled with horror fiction.

Sine discusses a couple main topics. These topics are as follows: the fear is real, morbid fascination, and the lingering effects of horror.

Due to some brief observations of the differences in physical responses for horror movies and actual, real-life danger, the conclusion has been made that the physical responses are the same. According to the researcher Glenn Sparks, whom Sine has cited, “The brain hasn’t really adapted to the new technology of movies… we can tell ourselves the images on the screen are not real, but emotionally our brain reacts as if they are… our ‘old brain’ still governs our reactions.”

The theory of morbid fascination suggests that people like to watch horror fiction based on “an innate need to stay aware of dangers in our environment, especially the kind that could do us bodily harm.” Within this theory, a few sub-theories stem: one is “that people may seek out violent entertainment as a way of coping with actual fears or violence,” and another, made popular by novelist Stephan King, is that “watching violence forestalls the need to act it out.”

The article concludes with an explanation of the lingering effects of being exposed to horror. Many psychologists and theorists who specialize in this area fear that the stress that horror viewing can create in viewers can have dangerous implications. The fear of desensitization is also great with experts such as these, because they “worry that we may also be becoming more desensitized to violence in real life.”

The Critique of Pure Horror by Jason Zinoman

In this article, Jason Zinoman, a frequent contributor to The New York Times, critiques the art of horror, analyzes some popular theories, such as those described by Carrol in “Why Horror,” and eventually concludes, in its most simple explanation, that if in fact fear is a pleasure, horror fiction merely reminds us of how much fun we can have.

Zinoman begins by asking the classic question: “why do so many of us enjoy being disgusted and terrified?” It is this question that fuels much of the article. First, he calls to attention the peer-reviewed journal, Horror Studies, which had its debut in 2010, apparently.

Next Zinoman recalls the writings of film critic Robin Wood. Of Wood, he writes: “at a time when horror was treated by many as a second-class genre, Mr. Wood introduced the now-familiar idea, rooted in psychoanalytic theory, that scary movies provide a valuable window into what our society ‘represses or oppresses.’”

Other scholars, such as Barbara Creed, Carol J. Clover, and Morris Dickstein expanded upon Wood’s initial theories. A few example theories include Creed’s, who suggested some appeal of horror might have to do with issues of femininity:  “the appeal of horror’s blood and gore in a nostalgia for the uninhibited time in childbirth before filth became taboo.”

Clover argued that horror was “one of the few film genres that regularly asked male audiences to identify with a triumphant female protagonist.”

While Creed and Clover believed that horror could “tap into positive emotions that are otherwise repressed,” critic Morris Dickstein viewed the genre more as a “safe and cathartic way to deal with darker feelings.”

Bibliography:

Zinoman, J., (2011). “The Critique of Pure Horror.” The New York Times SundayReview. Retrieved May 11, 2014, from http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/17/opinion/sunday/17gray.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Sine, R. “Why We Love Scary Movies.” WebMD, Mental Health Center. Retrieved May 11, 2014, from http://www.webmd.com/mental-health/features/why-we-love-scary-movies

When Buffy and Willow leave the lecture hall, they get cut off by Riley, who starts to talk to Buffy about her dream. Willow says goodbye, but sneakily continues to observe them, tip-toeing around and hiding behind books and the like. While she does this, music, which consists of some bouncy rhythms of string pizzicato and various percussion instruments (most notably a woodblock or two), starts to play. This is an example of non-diegetic sound, but it adds to the scene by highlights this particular part of the scene by aiding the display of Willow’s playful nature.

In the scene in which Xander and Anya are arguing about their relationship, as they are on their way to Giles’ house, there are lots of diegetic sounds present: the sound of a mailbox opening, the door slamming, birds chirping, and a dog barking. They were outside at this point, so these sounds made sense. They also added a discreet level of chaos, but were also very common sounds, which helped to set the scene for such a common spat.

In the first scene in which we glimpse The Gentlemen, a few diegetic and non-diegetic sounds are implored. The clock tower clicking (diegetic), the box opening (shimmering; non-diegetic). But this scene also demonstrates a good example of mise-en-scene. At first, only the scabby, slimy, creepy hands of the monster are seen, as he opens the box. The voices are stolen from the whole town, more music and various sounds occur, and finally, the camera moves slowly back from its hands to its creepy, disgusting face, to reveal a mirthfully joyed face of one of The Gentlemen. It was quite the build-up to the first introduction of this creature. It’s slow approach to revealing itself was effectively terrifying.

Looking back at the values that I “established” earlier in this course, I had a really hard time connecting my personal style and the ways I customize myself to them.
I am a short, kind of curvy young woman. I have scoliosis, which greatly affects my physical appearance. I have short hair which is, at this point in time, at least three different colors of blonde, my natural sandy brown hair showing through.

I have small, dark eyes, to which I have always liked to black eyeliner and mascara to. Recently, I started wearing full make-up because I decided I wanted to see what that was like. I guess I thought wearing make-up like that would make me seem more conventional. Lots of girls wear make-up, to some extent it makes you seem more professional, which is a trait I’ve been trying to foster.

I recently (within the last year) have gotten several piercings. I didn’t actually get my ears pierced until I started college. When I was younger, I wanted them pierced so badly, but my dad said I had to wait until I was 13. By the time I actually got to be that age, I was too scared to do it. Then I decided I would never pierce them because I was a hippy child and I didn’t want any holes in my body to contaminate me. Now, though, I have three holes in each lobe, my cartilage in my right ear, a conch piercing in my left ear, and my nose is also pierced. At times, it is still quite strange to me that I went ahead and just got all those piercings.

From what I’ve observed around campus, these piercings are pretty common. I’d say that probably every 1 in 5 girls I’ve noticed has her nose pierced. Actually, when I got it pierced, which was a year ago, no one even noticed I’d done it. I guess it “fit my style so well” that most people had just assumed I’d always had it pierced. At the time, I was going through a weird, “I-have-to-change-things-drastically” phase. I felt crazy and daring; nobody really noticed, but I felt it and I guess it sort of helped.

I work at a women’s resale store, The Clothes Horse, and I’m in the middle of learning how to be a teacher, which requires a lot of professional attire, so my style of clothing is kind of in flux. I used to wear skirts and dresses and fun, colorful things all of the time. Now I’ve trimmed it down to dark jeans or black pants or dress pants, varying degrees of t-shirts in white, black, or grey, and a pair of interesting shoes (some kind of bold color or interesting pattern) and earrings. Honestly, my style has gotten quite boring. But I think that’s okay for right now because I guess my fashion is not really what I am focusing on right now.

I’ve started dressing so monochromatically for a couple of reasons. First, I feel like it’s much easier to look put-together in black and white than it is in pink and green. Obviously that assumption is based completely on societal influence, but I can’t seem to help continuing to dress this way. I want to get dressed, feel classy, and not have to worry about what my outfit looks like while I’m teaching. Black is slimming, or at least that’s what people say, and pants seem more authoritative, not to mention more comfortable, than skirts or dresses.

There’s another, way less stereotypically “girly,” element to my style. I was homeschooled until I was in sixth grade. My dad is a hippy of the 60s and 70s variety: long white beard, flowy Hawaiian shirts, only eats raw food, vegan, organic, garden, eating, only listens to community radio, volunteers at the local food co-op, protests so hard that he is part of a group of people who wears judge robes to all the Portland protests, to represent the judges on supreme court ruling to recognize corporations as people and to try and change the amendment. You get the idea. My mom is a Naturopathic Doctor who has somehow never been interested in clothes or jewelry or make-up or shaving and actually taught my dad about eating healthily.

As you can imagine, I wasn’t allowed to eat candy or junk food or meat, wear makeup, watch tv or have piercings. And I do all of these things now. But I also try to eat as many veggies and as much organic food as I can. Sometimes I go without shaving, I put my long skirt on, pull my Birkenstocks back out, stop wearing a bra for a while, and somehow feel more like myself. But this is a label fraught with stereotypes and materialism too, isn’t it? At least in some ways? Does wearing Birkenstocks or Chacos make me a hippy?

My current conclusion, though completely subject to change, is that to some extent, how you present yourself matters. It’s the first thing people know about you, even if it’s not necessarily relevant to who you even are.