This weekend, I thought a lot about the way in which people document their lives. Nowadays, we follow the journeys people take through pictures, videos, blogs, and mass e-mails. Our lives have become contained in devices. We represent a generation that speaks almost entirely in Computerese.
When I think about how technology has evolved into a mass commodity, it makes me nostalgic for the media from my grandparents' generation. I love looking at the silent "home videos" that my grandfather made in the 1940's and 50's, as well as the black-and-white family photographs that fill suitcases in my grandmother's apartment. In essence, each is simply a document of the past. No frills, no special effects, no visual doctoring.
Despite the austere quality of these representations, I feel more transported and emotionally moved by these older art forms than I do while watching contemporary movies or looking at color photos. I find that the presence of beauty in these films and photographs derives from the (ironic) absence of sound and color. Each artistic document, void of visual or verbal flourish, becomes embedded with a sort of mystery, allowing us to romanticize, create, or fill in the emotions that are not fully conveyed to us through words, music, or visual accompaniment. These silent documentaries and static snapshots do not spoon-feed emotions or reactions to the viewers: the ambiguity allows for limitless interpretation. Thus each documentary of human life, no matter how mundane, can evoke a transcendent or extraordinary response from those who experience it.
For me as a painter, my grandmother's old photographs especially inspire me. Not only do they represent my lineage, but the static nature of the prints invites a modern rebirth or reinvigoration of sorts. We know that life and movement exist behind the two-dimensional image, but how can we convey dynamism without bastardizing the sacrosanct image? I am open to any and all suggestions! In my limited experience, I have found that oil paint is extremely malleable and depicts "static motion" particularly well. Any other ideas?
Beyond photographers, videographers, and painters, writers can transform the ordinary world into something out of a dream. John Irving is one writer whose ability to do so resonates in my mind. In his book The World According to Garp, Irving chronicles the life of protagonist Garp and explores Garp's extended relationships with his mother, wife, and children. If you have read the book before, you will remember that there is no oblique or hard-to-follow plotline. The characters he depicts are not other-wordly or superhuman, even though Irving might exaggerate their personalities or experiences at times. Despite Irving's poetic license, the lives of his characters are illustrations (and iterations) of our own.
Call me voyeuristic, nostalgic, or romantic, but I believe that anyone holding a video camera, digital camera, paintbrush, or pen possesses the creative capacity to make an ordinary human life seem extraordinary. Whether or not they know it at the time. Sometimes it takes 60 or 70 years for people to realize.
Happy Monday. Post something if you feel so inclined.
Your writing gives me a great longing for the past --the silent movies of your grandfather and the pile of Grandma Sally's black and white photos.
ReplyDeleteBlack and white photographs have a way of capturing the essential significance of a subject. Colour fades over time. With B & W, you fill in your own colour but with colour you are left with an empty page. How ironic. Time to work in black and white and leave future generations to complete the picture. Juliet Tango
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