Thursday, February 27, 2014

HEIDI- (i'm yelling 'cus im excited)- Things I feel when i look at your images as a group:

They are feminine.
They are frozen.
They exist as images and moments, they do not tell a story, they do not narrate- rather they punctuate.
They make holes.
They are hot breath on a cold window pane.



I love the studio, box diorama

have you looked at Joseph Cornell's boxes?

I went to Dublin recently and they had lifted Francis Bacon's studio, speck by speck- brush by brush from london and installed it in the Hugh Lane Gallery.

Here's a picture of it:















And here's me looking at it.






It's behind glass. Frozen.

Here is an artist's statement from Erica Harris:




Frozen, Frozen, Frozen in motion. 


Nostalgia 




                            Detail









No Detail






Wednesday, February 26, 2014

THIS! This morning I cannot disconnect this song and glass menagerie :)

Friday, February 21, 2014

Impulse Images

Post-meeting impulse images I'm drawn to:

http://www.pinterest.com/heidihandelsman/glass-menagerie/


Common threads:
Surprising scales
Light doing surprising things (coming from strange angles, contrasting with what's around it in color or temperature)
soft/hard
color/no-color
cold/warm

~Heidi

Heidi! Love these. Yes yes to scale. And the light focusing how we take in the images. Also, makes me think about feet. And gravity. Are feet landing on the ground? Are limbs suspended? Are objects suspended? Does everything land when Jim arrives? Does everything start to float away when Jim arrives? Does the living room become Laura's toy living room? Can Tom sit on the tiny house? Does he hold it up? 

and more and more. talk soon. xo c 

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Five minutes:

I’m struck by the music of the play, the way it moves like a soap opera or a melodrama or a dream or a memory. The potential for distortions, for illusions and exaggerations is exciting. What is the relationship between Tom and world he creates? Tom and the audience? The other characters seem to be trapped in a box of Tom’s creation, but at the same time and in opposition to that the story has a way of trapping him.

Phantasmagoria which really just means haunting. Yesterday at tablework for Tooth of Crime we were playing with the idea of the doppleganger: a ghostly version of yourself who haunts you as you move throughout the world. You’re sitting in a cafe and you look out the window and see yourself walking down the street. You run out the door and the figure is gone. You look at your face in the mirror long enough and suddenly wrinkles begin to develop on your face. You begin to look older and older. 40. 50. 60. 80. Dead. And sad. Very sad. Or disappointed? What you thought you saw in the mirror is actually a vision of yourself from 5 years ago, 10. What is it about the idea of crippling, in the mind, the way that we are prisoners of our own thoughts and memories.

How is this play a machine to fix Laura, rather than a tragedy about her inaction? It seems like everything is provided for her. Amanda tells her what she needs to hear: “I won’t entertain any of your silliness.” Forcibly pushed to answer the door, to grow up, to come out and step into her life. Jim tells her exactly what we’re thinking in the audience, exactly what we all wish we heard at our lowest moments. He’s the one guy she’s ever liked and he gets her to dance with him! He kisses her! WHY DOES HE KISS HER? For the first time I don’t know if I really believe that her life is over when he leaves. It certainly makes you cry to think about that, but really? No Jim no Tom and these women's lives are over?

What is the story of the poem on the shoebox? What happens to the unicorn after it loses its horn? Is Amanda a good cook? Does the power ever get turned back on? Are the actors actors that Tom has hired to haunt him? Is Tom an actor? Are the actors apparitions and Tom is drunk on absinthe and muttering in a gutter? What is the nature of space in this place? It feels thick to me. Or is it like an embalming fluid? A gel suspension? Do we need to reconstruct parts of it as we go, because it’s not there at first, until we need to get the thing from the bureau that we forgot was there? Should we feel trapped? Free to leave at any time? Struggling to piece together the details? I pictured a camera zooming and swooping, very choreographed gestures, music. I’d be very interested in following every stage direction to the letter, to its logical conclusion.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Notes from our super fast meeting!
Some of these may not make sense, but it's what I wrote down :)

Quick Meeting Feb. 19th.

reflecting light (like projected movies). Can we light the play this way? all reflections
"momentary radiance, not actual, not lasting"

reflecting action

not exhausting our eyes like computer screens and phone screens and ALL the screens

pulling something into focus

amorphous world

transparancy

lime light

residual tension of objects  (and everything is an object, Tom, Laura, Amanda, Jim, Victrola, Glass Menagerie, chair, table, shoes, dress, coats, EVERYTHING) then we can have a power struggle. A battle between objects about where they want to be when and why depending on the memory we are in and which object is controlling the memory.

What is the callibration of the moment-ness btw objects?

what is each object's journey?

Where is the beauty and cruelty or each object and when do we see what side?

how can we take William's production notes and design ideas and make them as novel and exciting as they would have been when the play came out? What is the projected titles device of today? What is as instantaneous?


More soon! Love to hear any thoughts!
xo
c

CAIT'S Free-write and Writing on her paintings! 



Does memory move?

Does anything move?

I am thinking about animation and the maybe myth of movement.

Amanda frozen in her summer dress, suspended jonquils.

Laura's still animals- possessing light for a moment. A lifetime equalling a million. A multitude of still seconds…

Our human ability to inhabit just one- to stretch it, to pull on it …a choice. A deliberate deer enjoying the hold of the headlights.


A glitch on purpose.  A loop of animation- like a ghost in a glue trap.


And I am also including something i wrote about my most recent series of paintings. I sent it to Caitlin earlier, and, as I re-read 'Menagerie' i cant help the two from mixing.


I have been thinking of these portraits as erosions.
I have been thinking of these portraits as a graph through my mind where the things most often rubbed against come through darker.
-Like a grinding plate wearing down grooves of faces and actions -Visiting the same spaces over and over again,
and every time something added or shifted or worn away.
Why is a memory sometimes sharp?
Is the plural of a memory an ache?
Is a picture of movement transparent?
A trick of the eye, a wink of the eye, a flick of the tongue, a smoke smell, a long smell of air.
Who are we holding in our minds as most dear?
Not an individual-
A stack!
An animation!
A shifting skeleton whose anatomy arises from the average artifact, whose bones are built from banisters and window frames.
The structures we look through everyday become the bodies of our beloved.
What is associated becomes intrinsic.
Isn't that how we learn?
The things that settle when we sleep-
-things loudest grow taller.
Isn't that how myths are born?
The myth of the other person in your mind-
more closely related to yourself-
-A distant relative of your first memory.
-An angel to early man.
I have been thinking that these portraits are self-portraits.

Monday, February 17, 2014

5-minute response from Heidi

Hey everyone,

Below is my 5-minute response.  And here is a link to the song I kept hearing in my mind as I was reading.  It starts at 24:07.

~Heidi


A world lit by lightning
A world lit by chandeliers
A world lit by candles when the electricity goes out
A world in darkness
A shattered rainbow
The thing that came before the discoball, that threw the world into flecks of light
The rose colored shade over the new floor lamp
Suspension
Suspended world, held by memory, a floatingness
And and and and and and and and
A SPOTLIGHT, a limelight, always in the limelight
Light of the past, light of the future
Suspension in time
Time is the greatest distance
Then to now, to tomorrow, how will you handle tomorrow, and how do you handle the past?

The past, regrets, what’s been holding you back, what makes you want to dream instead of live

Flickering movies, movies on screens, its make of light
MAGIC LANTERN

TV screens and computer screens are lit from within, so they are painful to look at for too long, but movies are reflected – you aren’t looking at the source of the light, you’re looking at a reflection, so you can look at it for hours and hours, to give your eyes a break.  Louie taught me that.

There aws another thing I wanted to say, what was it?  WHAT WAS IT??

Eyes hurting.  Techonology: vitrola, typewriter, escape, taking care of you sick sister for her whole life, giving up, doing it for yourself or for your family

What is the Merchant Marine?  Not like the marines… just like sailors?  PIRATES.

5 min free write... 
 
Light beam momentary radiance. blurriness. memory. How do we forget a face we know? we love? How can we move forward from regret? How can we hold on to our memories that float up and away before we’re ready? How can we stop clinging to them and let them go. The future becomes the present and the present becomes the past. Time! Do memories exist in time? Do clothes fit in memories? Are people blurry or clear in our remembering of them? Details! Who’s memory are we in? Who’s remembering who? Who’s misremembering who? Why do we remember? to forget? to move past? That’s weird… move past. Shouldn’t it be move future.
Is Tom stuck in time? Are they all stuck in time? How is the storm taking over? the musical storm? the light storm? the body storm? the mind storm? the language storm? The breathing storm? Can we hear their heartbeats?
A world of sensation. A storm of sensation. A flood of sensation. How can I taste this world on my tongue? in my nose? on my skin?
How can we spark our own memories with a memory play? How can we cling, catch, grasp, punch, slap, pet, smother, stroke our memories? Why would we want to?!

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Here's our space!

Hi Design Team,

Here is our space to share/chat/question...

Here are the images I introduced in my first convo with Cait and Deb. We can scrap all of them if we want! 

yay! more soon,
xoxo
c