
The sixth lecture in this Fall’s series began with a surprising choice for a speaker: Nicholas Makris, a professor of Mechanical and Ocean Engineering. Rather than coming from a career in visual arts or architecture as most of the other speakers have, Makris works with very technical material involving long-distance sensing in the ocean and on other planets. However, I was left with the impression that the overall message of his lecture was just as relevant to the series’ theme of “Utopia, Dystopia, Heterotopia” as that of anyone else. In the first part of his talk, he described his engineering work. One of the more interesting examples was about sensing technology that has helped oceanographers understand how large shoals of fish move during the course of a day. After this, he began talking about his interest in the lute, a medieval stringed instrument. The lute practically went extinct for some time when it fell out of favor with musicians and composers. Around the beginning of the 20th century, people began to become interested in the archaic instrument but there were no master musicians to study under and no luthiers who knew how to build one. Eventually, by studying remaining examples of the instrument as well as paintings of lute players, both the lute’s construction and, incredibly, the proper playing technique were discerned. Thus, while the lute is not a “habitat” in the sense of a geographic place where people or animals live, it represents a certain body of knowledge and experience that were allowed to live on through documents from a remote era.
Maybe that’s stretching the definition of “remote habitats” a little too far, but I was glad to see an “outsider” to the visual arts world brought in to speak in this context and provide some relevant thoughts. Shouldn’t scientists have a lot to say about the concepts of Utopia, Dystopia, and Heterotopia? For example, Makris’ thoughts on reconstructing something lost via “remote sensing” can readily be adapted to thinking about how the “re-design” attitude of many Utopias can quickly lead to the sterilization of traditions and the ways they might be preserved in a new future. I felt that Makris’ lucid explanation of his approach to his work was a useful tool for understanding more than his work itself. At times, I have felt that some of the artists who speak do not have a clear message they want to communicate and therefore are difficult to place into the context of anything I’m working on or interested in. Their talks become merely showcases of their work, lacking anything much more useful than what could be printed in a book about their most recent exhibition. In a way, this is the feeling I was left with after Lucy Orta’s talk.
Lucy Orta showed a lot of images of her work. She has done a lot of work. She mentioned how she used to be a fashion designer but has exclusively worked in the visual arts industry for many years. Almost all of her work involves clothing (in many different sense of the word), and it all has the very consistent aesthetic of sharp patchworks of bright colors. But it seemed (either in reality, or in the way she presented) to lack consistency in concepts between projects. Any motivation behind working with the ideas she did was spoken of with a great sense of distance. Yes, an image of children all wearing the same mega-garment that forces them to stand in a uniform array expresses something about connecting people, but why did she choose children, those children, that kind of situation that only can exist for a brief photograph? Installing tents in Antarctica made up of every nation’s flags does communicate something about a desire for openness and understanding, but why is the the way to ask, as Orta did, “Here at the end of the world, is another world possible?” I recognize that good art shouldn’t make the meaning of a work completely explicit, but when you present such a diverse range of subject matter yet maintain such consistency in style, I want a little more insight into the thought that went into such things, especially in the context of a lecture series. I would like to walk away feeling like there are many nuances of Orta’s work to be unraveled for generations to come, but I’m not so sure it doesn’t just look good. Really good. And perhaps that’s the most artistically useful part of her work; its level of perfection in fabrication expresses values of quality, craftsmanship, and appeal that anyone can understand. I certainly understood that part, to the point where it inspired me to spend my Thanksgiving break at home brushing up on my sewing skills with my mother and grandmother.
Orta showed a lot of pictures, but the evening’s final speaker, Armin Linke, had her beat. The bulk of his presentation consisted of 524 photographs shown on screen for two seconds each. He attempted to narrate, but predictably, the images flashed by faster than he could speak. I read this as a deliberate statement about his work as a photographer in places he considers to be remote. It was almost as if he were performing and recreating his experience of over stimulation, an expression of the ease of capturing images and the difficulty of capturing meaning. I appreciated this almost self-critical approach. Since my work in the Online Participatory Media class deals heavily with images (more on this in a not-too-distant post), I found the contrast between the way Linke and Orta respectively used images very interesting. And in the context of Makris’ talk, what function will their visual representations serve for people of the future?
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