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Vogelkop Bowerbirds
Jun 21, 2009
I see the cliched idea that “art comes from within” as an oversimplification, one that ignores the complicated and fascinating reasons why humans make pretty things. The nonspecific “within” is affected by far too many external variables for that clean and tidy little phrase to be even remotely accurate. The whole nature v nurture debate invariably (and at this point only mildly interesting-ly) comes in here, along with a variety of evolutionary theories. For an alternate approach to the idea, consider the ridiculously impressive bowers of the Vogelkop Bowerbirds of New Guinea. Regarded by many as the most purely “artistic” creations of any non-human creature on earth, these structures are clearly built solely for their aesthetics; they serve no survival-necessary purpose other than to assist in the attempt to ensure that the genes of the bird will be sent forth into the future, namely by attracting the male a mate.
Are these creations art? They have many of the characteristics of art, color, form, etc. But they also represent a physical manifestation of genetic strengths and weaknesses of each individual bird. A large, complex structure is evidence of the bird’s eyesight, brain function, physical strength and endurance, and ability to fend off competing males attempting to steal from/destroy their work. Each nest is as unique to that bird as a painting to an individual person. To me, the fact that they are made with a purpose in mind — mate luring — does not eliminate them from the “art” category. There are plenty of human artists who draw pictures so girls will think they are cool. Or “sensitive.”
I have no idea why humans make art. It seems like a purely natural thing, personally I can’t really help but make things that I find aesthetically pleasing, and that I hope others enjoy as well. Some believe that it is necessary to our survival as a species, that it is evidence of our superiority over all other creatures. Alex Grey believes that the transference of a piece of art from one person to another is a holy act, one which creates an eternal subconscious spiritual connection (of course, he sees pretty much everything as spiritually connected). My sculpture professor in Florence had an instructor who would force him to smash his sculptures on the ground when he finished. If he didn’t do it himself, the professor would do it in front of him. Most artists exist somewhere between those two extreme opinions of art’s “preciousness,” but generally agree that it is an important and deep-seated part of our existence.
I am fascinated by these birds, for many reasons. Clearly they raise questions about the origin of the need/desire for art in humans. Visually, they are in a way beautiful, and in a way somewhat ominous and creepy, like something from another dimension. It seems birds should not have the capacity to build something like this, something like a funeral pyre, or a demon’s portal to the abyss.
First Painting Attempt with the Wacom Intuos4
Jun 09, 2009 — 2 comments
Yesterday I bought myself a new toy, a Wacom Intuos4 Tablet.
Essentially it’s a pen that acts like a mouse; whatever motion you make with it, either above the pad or touching the pad, it will follow on the screen. The pen tip reacts to how hard you push, sensing 2,048 different levels of pressure. I fooled around with it last night, trying to get the feel for it, this is the first digital painting.
This thing is amazing. You can really control it for some good detail, and it’s incredible how natural it feels, especially since it seems like something from another planet. Once I get the hang of it, I think I will be able to make some pretty cool stuff.
By the way, this image was based on a ‘vision’ I had during a session in a sensory deprivation tank.
Atwood Machine, Galvanometer, Spectrometer
Jun 03, 2009
I’ve always had a certain obsession with bizarre instruments, especially older, pre-everything works instantaneously because it runs on a computer chip that can process billions of computations every second. The topmost image is a vector drawing I did of an Atwood Machine which is basically a system that allows you to determine the uniform acceleration of two masses. Below that is Thomson’s astatic mirror galvanometer which is used to measure electrical current. Below are two prism spectrometers.
Obviously the functionality of these instruments is important, but what I find even more interesting is how impressively designed they are. You might think early versions of complex, precise equipment would focus more on being precise than being aesthetically appealing, but that is clearly (at least to me) not the case. You can also see how function, at it’s most simple and direct, influences appearance in an amazing way: see the curved piece on the top of the galvanometer? That’s a magnet, curved in order to neutralize the Earth’s magnetic field, making the instrument more accurate. Most of the time, for a painting, design, tool, plant, whatever, the most direct and functionally simple approach is generally the most visually effective as well. I know the Ockham’s Razor thing is overplayed, but I like to see visual evidence of it.
In nearly direct contrast, I think the skeletons of vector drawings are cool. This took me a while:
Click here to see larger images and a progression of how it was made.