Field Report

Ariana and I were lying on the hillside at Chapman School, watching the Swifts gather at dusk. We were discussing the idea of choosing one topic to make artwork from, then working with it for a long time. Is it okay to make art about the same thing for ten years? For the rest of your life? As we sat, lazily discussing the idea, the Swifts churned and wove through the air. They dove in groups of thousands at the chimney that holds their home, then swept back up, weaving off into the sky. A few minutes later, they would arc back, consider the chimney, and fly off again. It occurred to me that the process of making artwork is similar to the pattern of the birds. You approach something, make an attempt, then move off to get perspective. There is always the chimney, though, making itself available. Over and over again, you can come back to your idea from a different angle or in a different light.
Lone Twin utilized the Swifts’ technique when they approached their performance. Over and over, they would present an image, an action, or a phrase. Each time it would have a little more depth or a little more context. Gary and Gregg have apparently studied the birds well, as they spent the entire evening literally moving in circles, always coming back to the same ideas.
Lone Twin, like the Swifts, were riveting. Somehow, in their continuous revisiting of words and motions, they captured vast depth of a feeling. With their cattails, tape players, and rugged ponchos, they reached into the dirt and pulled out a throbbing heart with its failings, a heart and its blessings.

Sometimes, artists make work purely about themselves. Sometimes, artists make work essentially about some outside topic. Things can get incredible when the two come together. It’s like a venn diagram.
Allow me to illustrate. At Sunday’s showing of How We Investigate, Portland filmmakers presented a collection of work. Randall Wakerlin documented his entire twenty sixth year, one photograph per day. A quality example of self focused artwork. Andrew Blubaugh, in his film Hello, Thanks, went as far as to state that the only reason why anyone makes art is to hope that someone will find you sexually attractive. His film was an endearing narrative on writing personal ads.
Cassandra Jones approached her film from the other angle, creating a six minute sunset collaged from hundreds of still photos. The focus of the film was on the sun rather than on herself.
Mike Wilder foraged a steady path straight through the tangly heart of it all. From behind a podium, Wilder began a weighty history of optical lenses and Galileo that made my head spin. Although it was a challenge, I managed to hang on long enough to realize that what he was saying was not only well researched, it was carefully mapped out and funny, too. By the time Wilder came around to the 20th century, he was somehow making detailed connections between the reductive tendencies of technology, the apathy of children, and his interest in carnivorous plants. At the lecture’s conclusion, it was obvious that I was in the presence of a genius. It was as if he had shaken out a crumpled blanket with all its complicated crevasses and folded it neatly on the end of a bed. I will not attempt to recreate his carefully framed thesis. I will say that Mike Wilder’s writing achieved the perfect balance of broad reaching world vision and meticulous self examination.

(another excerpt from the TBA presscorps files)

Once, my friend Mirah sent me a box of chocolates from France. They came in a wooden box, with a diagram inside showing each chocolate’s ingredients. One was lavender with delicately crumbled nuts on top. One was triangular, and had honey in it. Each of them was decadent and divine, with subtle rich flavors that lasted a long time in my mouth and in my heart. Listening to Spectratone International last night was just like opening that box of chocolates again. The performance was an exquisite gift, carefully crafted and sweetly delivered.
First of all, the music was dedicated to insects. Dung Beetle, Fly, Cicada. There is special place in my heart for insects. It’s right next to the spot reserved for chocolate. The suite of songs was structured so that each insect was represented by three pieces of music. Each song was brilliantly composed and meticulously performed by Spectratone International. On top of it all, Mirah is an amazing songwriter. Maybe I’m biased, because she is my friend, after all. However, her lyrics blew my mind. After listening to little snippets of insect facts all summer long, (“did you know that literally translated, Beezlebub means ‘my lord who hums’?”) I was awed by the results of all those yellow lined pages and library books. Weighty vocabulary blended with carefully researched facts somehow alchemically turned into gorgeous and hilarious songs. I mean, a love song written by a fly to Mirah? In my eye, my love for you multiplies? The whole aria was brilliant. Brilliant.

Okay, maybe you don’t have the attention for all the trivialities of the TBA festival. I’ll just give you some of best thoughts and observations, lifted slightly out of context. Here’s what I had to say yesterday:

DJ Spooky’s hands are incredible. When he held the microphone, when he described his thoughts on storytelling and the hidden links of history, his hands were elegantly gesticulating, making rhythms in the air. Then he got down to business. His hands were the sweetest tools, and he treated them with that much respect. Even behind his wall of technology, you could see his hands at work. Every once in a while, he would raise them up to his mouth. It almost looked like he was kissing them, paying reverence to them. Understandably so.

The much anticipated TBA festival has arrived, and I am a member of the very elite press corps. Therefore, for the next ten days, I will be posting entries on the PICA blog site in lieu of writing here. Check it out!

September 2, 2005

Dear Blog Audience,

I am writing to express interest in the blogging position that is currently and continuously posted. Because of my many months of writing online, and because of my many years of writing in general, I feel that I am qualified for this job.
I began writing for myself when I was in fourth or fifth grade, when I typed my own newspaper on my dad’s electric Smith-Corona. Since that time, I have logged many hours and thousands of pages of personally focused writing, including regular journalling and correspondence. In particular, I have kept a private journal for the past nineteen years.
In addition, I have been trained in many formal writing styles such as expository essays, proposals, evaluations, lesson plans, thesis projects, and business letters. As you can see, I am well versed in various forms of writing, and have had experience using those forms many times throughout the years.
Not only have I had experience producing many pieces of writing, I have also worked in the classroom, teaching developmentally appropriate writing techniques to children from ages five to eleven.
As you can see, I have done a great deal of work in the area of writing. Not only have done this work, I have also enjoyed it immensely. It is my deep pleasure to write, especially in situations where I have the freedom to express my ideas and perspectives on the world. I feel that I would an excellent job as a blogger, and I hope that you will consider me for the position. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely, Amber Bell