S+ART

Directions: Antonio Rovaldi

The Opening Day. 2009. Digital video, looped. Courtesy artist and monitor gallery, Rome.

 

Italian multimedia artist Antonio Rovaldi lives and works in Milan, where frequent long distance walks and bike rides provide an open air studio for him to contemplate landscapes, space and distance. These elements are key to his drawings, sculpture, photography, performance, and video art.

Rovaldi uses two projectors for his video installation The Opening Day (2009), a looped performance of a pitcher taking aim at mass-produced ceramics.  The intangible arc of a fastball creates suspense, while surround sound and opposing screens submerge the audience in the action. The pitcher is dressed in full uniform and appears as focused as if he were on first base at a high stakes game. The viewer feels as if they are simultaneously a participant in the middle of the action and an invisible bystander on the sideline.

The pitcher reacts to either hitting or missing the ceramics, displaying a victorious open armed gesture when toppling a giant dog figure. Displayed as classical still life, the ceramics represent the traditional hierarchy of "high art" which has been shattered by moving-image work that was once considered to be outside the realm of fine art.

-Jen Schiller

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Black Box: DEMOCRACIA

Black Box: DEMOCRACIA

A video installation at the Hirshhorn

A Traceur performs stunts in a graveyard in Ser y Durar (2011), part of Black Box: DEMOCRACIA.

 

Ser y durar (To Be and to Last) is a 2011 video installation by DEMOCRACIA, Spanish duo Pablo España and Iván López. In the film a team of local traceurs (practitioners of the street sport parkour) perform stunts in a graveyard while wearing uniforms emblazoned with emblems that refer to the working class, internationalism, anarchy, secret societies, and revolution. The establishing shot is a still frame in which a posse of men bypass the camera, walking into the distance along a road under the broken shadows of trees. They travel like a hungry wolf pack on a mission to kill. Foreboding music and passing headlights suggest resistance—the men seem separate from the cars, the stationary camera, and the stable conventions of society.

 

Close-ups of the men’s uniforms at first provide little detail: the red costumes, sweatpants and masks that obscure their faces could be part of a sports team or a band of criminals. The use of a Tri-screen disorients the audience, sometimes working as one panoramic view and at other times displaying three separate shots, forcing the viewer to actively scan the room. Set on a gravesite, the men display incredible acts of strength and acrobatics; their stunts bring them literally and spiritually close to death. The acrobats are at once militant and acrobatic, with the strength of gymnasts and the wild fury of rebels. Their vitality, motion, bright red dress, and booming drumbeat provide a counterpoint to the bleak, gray stillness of their surroundings. A brick wall close-up reveals cracks and holes that perhaps house dangerous creatures, just as the brick wall of the government is cracked and the holes are the threat of revolutionaries like these men who seem to defy gravity and treat the stone surfaces as a springboard.

As the title implies, amid death the men continue to "be" and against cement opposition they assure their mission will "last." The final shot captures a tomb that reads "don't mourn my death. Instead go forward, on top of my tomb." This is what the traceurs do literally, promising a vengeance of the deceased through a mission of anarchy. 

-Jen Schiller

 

Photo of the Day

Aerial I, Production still from Shadow Sites II, Jananne al-Ani (Iraq, b. 1966), 2011, Single-channel digital video, Courtesy of the artist

Coming soon in August 2012, Shadow Sites: Recent Work by Jananne al-Ani at the Sackler Gallery. Al-Ani presents a new body of video works, inspired by archival archaeological and aerial photographs of the Middle Eastern landscape. Mark it on your calendars!

 

Fat Film and Light Leaks

One of the most common reasons for light leaks on medium format film is when it is loosely-wound after exposure. Loose, or "fat", film happens when there is too much slack on the take-up spool when loading the film in the camera. The biggest culprits are the inexpensive "toy" cameras like Holga and Diana that have no mechanism to wind the film tightly or hold it in place. My Holga has a low-tech piece of foam to put tension on the spool, but the Diana has nothing to make the spool fit tightly (and, the Diana is the one where all the post-exposure light leaks originate).

 

The film on the left was properly wound on the take-up reel, minimizing the occurrence of light leaks. The film on the right is loose, or "fat", and will have light leaks.

Light leaks, depending on placement, size, and personal preference, can either contribute to the image or totally destroy it. They can even cause the numbers from the backing paper to become imprinted on the film as light passes through it.

Loosely-wound or fat film can be minimized by making sure the leader is properly secured and wound on the take-up spool. The paper backing usually has a slightly tapered end that fits through the slit on the spool. Folding the leader will help it stay in place; sometimes a small piece of  gaffers tape  will help, as well. When the paper is securely wound on the take-up spool, the film will usually wind tightly as each frame is exposed.

This film is barely wound on the take-up spool and is not tight enough to wind properly. Film that looks like this when the back is placed on the camera will most likely result in a loosely-wound spool (even fatter than in the example above).

 

This film has been tightly wound on the take-up spool. The paper backing on medium format film is much longer than the film, itself, which allows for safe spooling to the start arrow without exposing the film.

Sometimes loose film just happens. When it does, be prepared so that the risk of image-destroying light leaks are reduced (or emphasized, if you like that sort of thing). Carry aluminum foil to wrap any loose rolls to protect from light once exposed and removed from the camera. The film wrapper can also be used; even a sheet of paper will help. If nothing like this is handy, shove the film into a pocket or the bottom of a bag until you get home to develop it. It may seem logical to squeeze the film if it’s loose, but try to resist - it’ll just make the light leaks worse (unless you want them, then squeeze away).

You can try pulling the film tight though nearly every time I’ve done this I end up dropping it and the whole thing unravels, so tighten at your own risk.

Hopefully these tips will help prevent any annoying light leaks other than the ones caused by your camera, itself (and, that’s the reason you’re shooting with a plastic "toy" camera in the first place, right?).

-Angela

Taking notes

 

Picture is Unrelated:  Kayakers on the Potomac River on a hot day.  Photo by Angela Kleis, 2009

 

I cleaned over the weekend and put away a few notebooks and pads of paper that were taking up space on my desk.  Last night, I spent over an hour looking for the one that contained data I needed to develop film.  I finally found it on a bookshelf, of all places (why didn't I look there first?).  But, I couldn't get started without it.

 

Maybe it's my ingrained thanks to my science background, but I tend to take notes and keep a pretty meticulous notebook on all the types of film and developer combinations I've processed.  It helps me understand which types of films can be combined in one tank with the same developer, which ones should never, ever be put together, and if a particular developer is not a good match for a specific film.  Sometimes there are temperature issues and those are logged, too, as well small details I may notice and think will be helpful in the future (some if it is also online). 

 

I have a second notebook for printing that catalogs the negative number, type of paper, which filters I tried (and, which one worked best), time, aperture, and any dodging and burning that was performed.  Though printing is not an automatic process and may vary based on paper and chemical lots and other things I can't necessarily control, it provides a starting point that saves time and materials (and, frustration).  I like consistency and standardizing my methods helps me make sure that the results will be as close as possible to those I have obtained in the past, even with all of the inherent variables throughout the processes.  

 

There are notebooks or pads of paper in each of my camera bags that are useful for logging the film number (there is also a Sharpie in every bag) so when I am looking at an overwhelming pile of film canisters that need processing and want to develop a specific one, I can easily find it.  I have found this process very useful when travelling to note the date, city, places visited, if pushed or pulled the ISO.  These details not only help me locate a roll of undeveloped film, but also to remind me of the places I went.  After all, how many piazzas and fountains are there in Rome?  It's impossible to know.

 

It may seem like information overload or tedious details that most people are able to remember, but I feel it's better to be prepared and save time later by taking a few minutes to write it down, now.  What kinds of methods do you use to document photographic information?  Please let us know in the comments!!

                                                         -Angela

Photo Films

 

Films and photographs, two story-telling methods based on a shared concept, rarely cross paths in their traditional applications.  For one, photographs provide a sense of memory or past occurences while films show the perspective of events occuring right now, along a linear sequence, wherever they may be despite their setting along the historical timeline.  Both require someone to work the equipment with the ability to convey an idea, message, or storyline, plus the ability by those in front of the camera to help convincingly translate those ideas. While photographs are sometimes featured within a film, it is usually a fleeting occurence in conventional movies.  But, sometimes the two mediums are combined. 

 

Photo films, also known as photo-roman and ciné-roman, are experimental cinematic films consisting entirely of still images set to voice-overs, music and sound-effects.  The result is referential with a dream-like sense of watching a memory, and can evoke feelings of foreboding or loss, depending on the subject matter. 

 

Examples of the photo-roman are the 1962 French sci-fi La Jetée, which comprises 28 minutes of still photos that tell's the story of a prisoner in a post-apocalyptic Paris who time travels to chase the memory of a woman from an ephemeral moment in his childhood.  Chafed Elbows, on the other hand, is a "manic comic parody" of the Greenwich Village bohemian scene that uses mostly still photographs taken by director Robert Downey, Sr., with a 35mm camera and developed at Walgreens in 1966. 

Other photofilms include Hervé Guibert's  Suzanne et Louise (1980) and Le Seul Visage (1984), Benoit Peeters' and Marie-Françoise Plissart's  Fugues (1983), Droits de regard (1985), and Le Mauvais Œil (1986), and Christian Bruel's and Xavier Lambours' La Mémoire des scorpions (1991).

 

See this art form for yourself this Saturday at 4:30 p.m. at the National Gallery of Art. The Filmic Photograph, part of the Photofilm! series, is a free, 90-minute presentation of photofilms from over the past 30 years. 

 

-Angela

 

 

Double Exposure: Collaboration Project

My intention was to continue last week's discussion in this week's post, but I got stuck and couldn't get my words to make sense.  Sometimes this happens.  I'll continue to work on it and post in the near future.

In the meantime, I wanted to give you film-shooters a cool idea to try out.  You may be familiar with multiple-exposure shots using some of the manual, low-tech cameras that are pretty popular right now.  A  friend took this step a little further a few years ago and see what happens when two different people combine their own images.  His idea was to shoot a roll of film, rewind it leaving the leader outside the canister, and trade off with another photographer who would expose that same same film with their own photos.  The results are very random and very cool multiple exposures.  It started with a small group of local photo-friends and expanded world-wide.

 
Some of my own favorite collaborative photos include this one traded locally with Jennifer Wade, this one mailed from Eric Petersen in Minnesota, and this one sent all the way from Spain by Jessica L.  As you can see, the photos are multiple-exposed and completely random combinations of shots taken by two different people.  For more examples of this process, check out the Flickr group that Scott started: Collaborative Film Society of DC.

  Attached Photo:  Photo by Jennifer Wade and Angela Kleis, Verizon Center and Thomas Jefferson/Library of Congress

  If this is something you'd like to try, find a photographer-friend and each shoot a roll of film.  Rewind the film so the leader edge remains outside of the canister so it can be reloaded into a camera.  You may need to use a manual camera to control the rewind process unless you can figure out how to rewind your film by hand in an automatic camera (I wasn't able to do that).  Alternatively, if you roll your own film and have reusable canisters, just transfer the exposed film to the new canister inside of a changing bag.  If you run into issues with this, post in the pool's discussion board and someone will be able to provide some helpful suggestions.  Once you've both shot your film, TRADE!  Shoot it up and see what you get. 

 

-Angela

Protect yourself and your Artwork

 

Old House, Angela Kleis, 2008

For those of you who have shown work in a gallery, the artist-gallery agreement that you signed most likely contained a section stating who is responsible for insuring the artwork while on exhibit and in the gallery’s possession.  If insurance was not provided by the venue, did you obtain your own or, like me, not worry too much about it?  What about artwork in your home or studio?  I have been thinking about this for awhile.

Art insurance seems to be mentioned a lot but no one really knows exactly what it means, what is covered, or how it works, including me.  So, I did what we all do when we want to learn more – I asked my friends.  Luckily, Kelly Rand, who knows a little about art festivals and who handles the insurance for the DCist Exposed Photography Show each year, was able to get me started and direct me to the right resources to learn more.  And, this is what I found:

Just like any insurance, art insurance will offer compensation if a piece of artwork is damaged, lost or stolen. When participating in an art show or festival, always ask about the event organizer's insurance. Most of the time their insurance should cover participants' artwork, but this is not always the case. If their insurance doesn't cover participants' artwork, artists should, ideally, acquire their own for the duration of the show, sale or festival, or reconsider participation altogether.  Sometimes event insurance will do the trick, offering wide coverage for both artwork and artist. 

Before handing artwork over for exhibit, be sure to get a written agreement from the gallery or individual running the show, read it carefully, and ask questions about anything you may not understand.  And, make sure it clearly states what protections will be offered while artwork is in their possession.  For artists who sell on a regular basis or transport work to various festivals, business insurance may be an option.

For those organizing an art show, festival, or event that includes artwork, insurance is very important. Offering coverage during the event signals that organizers are serious about protecting its participants. Also, in case of a fire or theft, insurance will compensate artists for losses and hopefully avoid a lawsuit for failure to do so.  Organizers can look into getting event insurance which can offer good coverall protection, which includes artwork as well as other protections.

Artists may want to learn more about insurance for their home and/or studio or check what a current policy specifically covers.  Depending on the policy and what the insurance company offers will depend on what level of coverage is available.  An additional clause may be necessary to provide the type of insurance an artist needs in the event artwork is damaged or destroyed.

I made a phone call to my own insurance company to see exactly what my renters insurance covers.  Standard insurance policies offer personal property protection including total replacement costs of a certain amount, determined by the policy.  Replacement costs would be based on the actual costs of the materials used to make the final piece, such as film, cameras, paper, and chemicals, not the price for which the piece would sell.  It was explained if a claim was opened, the insurance adjuster would ask for an inventory and/or receipts of the items and determine value in this way. 

Negatives and unique prints, however, are considered very valuable and it was suggested that I learn more about an umbrella policy or extra riders to make sure they are properly insured.  It was explained that this type of policy would also cover my property no matter where it was located so if I were travelling, my cameras would also be covered if lost or stolen anywhere in the world.  That sounds good to me, so I’ll definitely find out more.  I will also take inventory of everything I own, including cameras, prints, negatives, film, chemicals, printing equipment, and framing supplies and keep in a safe place.

The idea is to protect yourself and your artwork – only you, the artist, understands the time and work invested in each piece, so if you are concerned about making sure you are protected if something happens, take the initiative to learn more.  One of the best resources is to simply call your insurance company and ask questions.  If you don’t already have home or renters insurance, ask your friends and parents who they use and start from there.  It sounds intimidating (I only actually made the call so I could write this post!), but the phone call was quick and I learned a lot.

-Angela

An Exhibition of ‘Timeless Modernity’ at the Hirshhorn

 A Response to An escapist exhibition firmly about escapism by Philip Kennicott

 

Is it not difficult to see with eyes closed or clearly think when the mind is looking for “tricks, illusions, and amusement rides?” It is equally difficult to define time (birth, growth, death, and rebirth), design, or its art as “merely dates, time lost [and] meaningless time.” Are each of us not ‘living’ Fragments in time and space? Like the questions of life, answers behind an exhibition’s conceptual design are not freely given to take. One must give many moments to ask questions, purge, and analyze details such as: structural design, the exhibition’s concept, its integration with art works displayed, and reoccurring themes in relation to the overall composition.

This exhibition is intended to be viewed in accordance to the natural cycles of life simultaneously with the surrounding natural world and universe, which is continuing and infinite.  Douglas Gordon's video installment "Play Dead; Real Time," 2003 displays one living elephant in white open space. The elephant is filmed in rotation while it stands, breaths, and plays dead, and then comes back to life. There is a beginning and an end to the cycles of life in the ways we perceive time but life continues, changes and evolves—it is timeless.

 

Five Past Eleven, 1989 by Ed Ruscha, Hirshhorn, Smithsonian 

In order to achieve this concept in a composition of multiple works, there must be a repetitive infused meaning between the space, place, visual design and symbolic message presented. The concept of Fragments in Time and Space as a ‘timeless modernity’ is in perfect union with the Hirshhorn Museum’s circulatory architectural design reiterating ‘constant’, ‘cyclical’, and ‘infinite’.  Ed Ruscha’s “Five Past Eleven” begins the exhibit with a partially shown, sleek man-made time-piece urging all to break time in the way individuals perceive it. Only then can one understand the ‘longevity’ of the surrounding natural world.  In design, as time continues, it is pertinent that the development of a piece of artwork continues to evolve. This exhibition proves the objective of creating a “timeless” design.

 

The goal of the designer in collaboration with the client (artist) is to maintain a relationship with the preexisting structure (Hirshhorn) and enclose it with a refreshed movement of space based on a composed context, design, and meaning in each piece. The structural design of the Hirshhorn features: original spaces, walls, pathways, and an outer and inner circle. In creating or designing an exhibition around the structural design, the meaning must be a direct reflection of the space and place its set in.

 

The exhibition’s concept literally rotates in a circulation of curves interchanging with stops and pauses in forced clock-wise continuation just as the earth rotates, sun and moon rise, and the reason time is perceived like so.

In this unique design, the outer circle is closed to the outside world—dark and windowless.

Meanwhile, dark spaces are accentuated by animated installations, films and videos that are vibrant and full of natural life and elements; timeless and continuing through perceived time.  In the natural world, some elements were here at the beginning and will be here at the end; they will fight through the billions of cycles of time. Hiroshki Sugimoto’s thirteen archetypal seascapes powerfully exemplify the ocean and its adjoining horizon in its infinite mystery, with no beginning and no end.                                                                              

The inner circle is opposite the outer circle yet intertwined as one. The real art is the exposure of light and the living world through large windows which is only accentuated by natural elements harnessed by man in the form of sculpture like the “Kantian box of space” and water.  This opposite and interlocking rotation between the two circles engages fusion between the inside and outside elements seamlessly to create a composition of “timeless” works.

 

In doing this, pieces of artwork and a site are separately renewed given the opportunity to evolve through constant development and perspective in association with inevitable change in time, place, and culture creating an Exhibition of ‘Timeless Modernity’.

 

~Matt Weiler

Playing in the Dark

 

A few years ago, I took a photography class at the Smithsonian Associates with Leland Bryant. It was an introduction to 35 mm photography and included developing and printing. Well, I wasn't new to photography and had been developing my own film for years, so I was mostly interested in the printing part. While I had put together my own darkroom and had been printing quite bit of my own work, it was difficult, I was inefficient, missing some valuable information, and the whole process was really wasteful( and expensive!). I took the course to learn directly from someone rather than trying to follow books or online procedures, and I really learned a lot, and it was fun having a couple hours set aside every Sunday in a well-stocked darkroom. Leland provided direction in a wat that helped me to better understand how filters work and how to actually make a test print obtain a properly contrasted and exposed final print. It was great.

I could have really used Leland's direction last night.

While a friend is away for a couple weeks, I am taking advantage of his enlarger-equipped windowless bathroom to spend some quality time in the dark with my negatives. Lately, I only print when there's a specific need, and sometimes I end up paying for someone else to do it for me to save time. Since I have such a backlog, I figured I should probably put together a collection of future prints for future use. Besides, it's fun!

Did I mention that I could have really used Leland's help last night?

So I mixed up the chemicals, turned on the safe light, pulled out the filters and paper, got my sharpie ready, and flipped through the pages to find the first photo to work on.

 

 
 
I saw him in Piazza Campo de'Fiori the day I arrived in Rome, sitting on a bench, carving some leather. He was there on that same bench when I returned to Rome a week later. He didn't speak a lot of English, but let me take his photo and showed me some of his work. There was a lot of detail and nice light in this photo, so I decided to print him first.

Leland always suggested starting with a grade 2 or 2.5 filter to get a baseline test print, so that's what I did. I exposed the test strip for 5,10,15,20, and 25 seconds at f/3, and transferred it to the tray developer. Within a few seconds, the entire strip of paper was black. Great.

Things would be a lot easier if all of my negatives were properly exposed, but that's not going to happen, so let's move on.

I stopped the lens down one step to f/4, repeated the sequence, and transferred the paper to the developer where it, once again, turned black. Awesome.

 I removed the filter, stopped the lens down one more stop, repeated the exposure, and waited for the paper to turn black. It did, but the five-second exposure actually had a little detail! Now we're getting somewhere.

By this time, the bathroom was getting stuffy and I was getting frustrated. I dropped the Sharpie and it rolled somewhere I couldn't immediately find, so I stopped making notes on the test prints (Leland is shaking his head, I just know it...) but, I finally worked out the proper exposure/time/filter combination for a good print. Next up: burning.

While his face and clothes were perfect, the bricks on the sidewalk and the piece of leather on the bottom right corner were washed out. Once I exposed the paper for the first round, I reset the timer for 2 seconds and used a piece of cardboard to block the light so only the areas that needed it were further exposed. Success!

 If I remember correctly (remember that I dropped the Sharpie and stopped making notes), the final print was obtained from a three-second exposure of the overall negative, with an additional two seconds on the top right and left corners and on the bottom right, at an f/stop of 3 and no filter. I made the eight copies.

 

If I had regular access to a darkroom, I would definitely spend more time printing for fun rather than out of necessity. In doing this, I would better understand how all of the elements work together to create a properly exposed print. I have access to this bathroom for two more weeks until my friend returns. I'll be there a lot this weekend...

-Angela-

 

 

P.S. This is Leland