Daily Archives: February 29, 2016

Failure Achievement Post #3

Reflection on Creative Display #2

In my original conceptualizing of my creative display, four tree-silhouettes were supposed to be free standing. I wanted them to be approximately four feet tall, because I felt that at that height they started to really make a visual impact. Anything less than that height is really too far below eye level to be applicable to a human viewer. The problem with this, and one that didn’t emerge until I was attempting to put the whole assemble together, was that the pieces would bend so much that they were in serious danger of falling over. I had anticipated this and had tested the rigidity of each piece as I produced it, but I believe the simple fact that they have been glued together for a number of days now is to blame for their tendency to fall over now. The weight of the uppermost parts of the silhouettes is becoming too much for the lower parts over time and creases are forming. Some of the support pieces holding the larger sheets together had also began to come off, due to inadequate glue. This second problem was easy to fix, and helped some, but the second way did not have an easy solution.

Initially, I had a few ideas about what to do to compensate for these leanings:

Glue cardboard rectangles to the other side to try to counterbalance the sway

Cut more slits in the base in order to insert more perpendicular supports

Tie the pieces to the walls and chairs around them

I ruled out the second idea once I looked more closely at what was happening at the base of the display. The sides of the slits were being forced askew, and this was compromising the rigidity of the whole piece. I decided that it was best not to mess around with that part of the display then. I ruled out the first idea because due to a similar thought process. I had no idea if I would be able to counterbalance the shapes, plus I thought they would be distracting on both sides. I enjoyed be able to tell from one side that the large shapes would made up from a number of smaller rectangles. I thought keeping that smooth side was important.

That left the third option. At first, I didn’t think I would like the look, but after taping one of the forms to the wall I liked the effect. It makes the display sight-specific. When I set it up in the classroom I will need to use a different set of props than in the basement of my dorm building. It also one move more slowly around the display when reading the words that wrap around it. One is careful not to trip on the ribbon assisting its standing. In turn, this will hopefully cause the viewer to reflect more on the meaning of the sentence wrapped around the display.

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The connection to the article Viewpoint: How Creativity is Helped by Failure is as follows: The article recounts the creative process of writers for Pixar. After an initial draft, each component of the plot is carefully considered, analyzed, and placed in the wider context of the film. In the same way, this failure forced me to reevaluate the whole project and its message. This failure has pushed the display into a more active work, commenting on the role the environment has on impacting what becomes of recycled materials. This is told through the symbol of the ribbon attaching the recycled cardboard to whatever objects are around it. The goals of recycling, what the materials are recycled into, is contingent on the value placements of the surrounding nation-state, county, or community.

Journal #17 -Theatre Achievement Post

Reflection on tour of Oregon Contemporary Theatre and Silent Sky 

My first impression after touring the building the Oregon Contemporary Theatre now occupies was how large it was, despite its diminutive appearance from the outside. The theatre manager mentioned this was a common experience and expressed gratitude for the space they now inhabit. The theatre’s previous home was described as a small space bound by “a hallway” that made up the dressing room and prop storage concurrently.

Talking with the carpenter for the company was interesting. I hadn’t thought about the challenges that a set designer is confronted with previously. She mentioned the challenges she faced in designing the spiral form that served as the centre piece for Silent Sky. She is usually able to make considerable use of stock pieces, but cubes and rectangles don’t translate into curves very easily. I’ve seen a few shows at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival before, and one in particular struck me as having a particularly evocative stage design. Much Ado About Nothing‘s set consisted of a large number of hanging strands of flowers that were illuminated depending on the the mood and demands of the scene.

Image from Eugene Art Talk 

 

I saw some of that same idea repeated on the stage of Silent Sky. The boards behind the stage receiving the projectors image served to signal location and scene change. The painted spiral galaxy served to underscore the main point of the second act. Our heroine undergoes an existential crisis during this act. What does her work mean? Why does it matter? In contrast, the other characters have found purpose in their lives in the second act. Her sister takes care of the Wisconsin farm, Peter takes a teaching job, and her colleagues at Harvard have rallies in support of the suffrage movement. It is not until the end of the play that Henrietta finds purpose: measuring the stars. The stage design allowed her to stand at a level above the spiral galaxy. She has transcended her earlier struggle for meaning and now stand above the Milky Way, which she has proven does not define the entire universe. She looks back on her accomplishments from her place among the starts and in the words of her sister, has “answered the question God put before her.”

Abstraction that straddles the border between attempt at naturalistic representation and emotive fluid form has always interested me. After talking with the shows’s staff on Tuesday it was apparent to me that the sort of stage craft displayed in Silent Sky is an excellent application of these principles. The set was able to function as a Wisconsin farmhouse, Harvard office, ocean liner, and various outdoor environments, all while implanting the cosmic significance and striving of Henrietta Leavitt’s quest to measure the starts by way of abstracted spiral galaxy on the floor. If this floor painting would’ve been done in a way that made its star-nature more obvious, the play would’ve suffered. What sense does it make that the stars are under a home in Wisconsin? It would’ve been distracting. Instead, their degree of abstraction allowed you to notice them when the plot demanded, and allowed them to fade out of memory in other scenes. Overall, the design forced me to think more about the ability of forms and colours to function as multiple symbols simultaneously. This is something I have struggled with in my own project, which contains many nested symbols. It was encouraging to realize that this sort of dense symbol arrangement could be effectively pulled-off, albeit by professionals. People will interact with my cardboard sculpture like actors interact with a stage. In that respect the play cemented in me the importance of having clear meaning behind symbols that are employed for two purposes simultaneously.

I was not at all familiar with the work of Henry Leavitt before the play, which I know now is because of the way science was conducted during that period at Harvard, at least in the astronomy department. The fact that the actual Dr. who conducted the work was never in the play resonated powerfully. The whole set-up reminded me of a parallel in the fine arts world, where master artist depend on a team of artist to bring their ideas to fruition, and then claim the credit for the entirety of the process.