After happening upon the work of Angela Palmer, a sculptor and video artist, a series of events has led me to shift my project's form (sort of) slightly. The body of Palmer's work involves the intricate mapping of MRI and CT scans using multiple layered sheets of glass. Her artist statement reads, "I have always loved maps. The process of investigating and visualizing topographies, natural forms and landscapes, and then producing them in a form which captures their essence is endlessly fascinating and satisfying." This eerily, magically correlates with my thought process and concepts discussed in our course readings.
I realized my project should illustrate both the connectedness and layered nature of my own process and thought.
Some more browsing and I stumble upon an article about Doug Aitken's Sleepwalkers, entitled Crossing the boundaries of the cinematic screen. I was attracted to the article's emphasis of "intertextual, intermedial and intercultural references." Video installation artist Aitken uses multiple projections and screens to "animate" the installation space, in this case, specifically the walls of the MoMa. The idea of primarily interacting with a space, rather than an audience, appeals to my frequent desire to be an artist, rather than just a designer. Video installations utilizing multiple screens effect simultaneity, often an intentional confusion that is essential to the experience. Whispers of Limited Fork Theory can be heard in the article: "Instead of presenting a continuous narrative, Aitkin focuses on the common threads of existence that connect the workers despite their divergent lifestyles."
Similar to the events in my head, these concurrent projections successfully communicate a "bigger picture" fragmented. Perhaps, instead of aiming to force the viewer, or experiencer, into recognizing a specific message, my perspective, or my intention, I can create an immersive environment that allows them a choice. I'm at odds, in general, about the notion of intention. I'd much rather linger in expression, even if it is unintelligible, or uncommunicable.
Thus, I've decided to translate my project into a video installation.
The form isn't all too foreign to me. Last fall semester, I took Cynthia Pachikara's course on video installation and completely fell in love with it. The projects were all collaborative, except for the final, so I'm interested in seeing how far I can get without an explicitly collaborative system. It may be good for me to externally think and work since living in one's head isn't always pleasant. Although we discussed the use of multiple projections, I never had the chance to try my hand at it. I'm hoping to use this project as an opportunity to experiment with different projections and screens, as well as explore modes of interference (recall an earlier blog post on glitchr art).
In the meantime, I've been reading Maeve Connolly's Place of Artists Cinema: Space, Site, and Screen. This shift in form creates some new questions: What is the difference between interactive art and art that necessitates an active "viewer," or participant? Which am I more concerned with? Do I want to maintain a distinction between projection and the actual space, or emphasize the seams? Will I transcend the flatness of a monitor and successfully create tangible space? How can I facilitate the activation of space? If I had all the time in the multiverse, I would fully pursue something like the Khronos Project.