Friday, February 9, 2018

Blog 4 Summary from Andréa



Hola, Rockstars!
First off, thanks for your insightful work!  I genuinely enjoyed reading your posts and watching you videos this week.  Second, here’s some copies of copies of Edward Norton’s “copy of a copy of a copy” quote from Fight Club.




You all had a lot to say about my question, so let’s get to it!
Mark starts us off with some “O Fortuna,” from Carl Orff’s 1930 Cantata Carmina Burana.  I’m sure you’re familiar, seeing as its been used in various movies, television and radio commercials, and in my senior dance recital.  Nancy Kerrigan skated to it (when Tonya was unsuccessful in taking her out) and 98 Degrees used it prior to their show to emphasize their awesomeness to their pre-pubescent fans.  Mark shared a hilarious video for Carlton Draught where the commercial using the song lets us know for sure that they’re doing it to sell beer.  Mark brings up the idea that the execution of the song, the “sonic artifact,” remains the same each time, but in each instance, the context around it is diversified.  While the song may stay in its “original” form, it may seem or sound different in its various uses or intentions.  He goes on to discuss the notion of originality, mentioning the received influences of the performer/artist, and how those experiences can cause the creator to create of “cover version” of themselves.  That’s deep, yo!  But true.  If you think about when a playwright writes a play that speaks to his/her experience, all it takes is for an editor, director, or publisher to tweak it and suddenly the original has become a “cover” in a sense. 
Dharmik, in a throwback to last semester, brings up the notion that if the same chords have already been played, is it even possible for a song to be original?  But he goes on further to point out that how a song affects one musician may be different from how it affects another.  And the qualities of one’s voice, different musical arrangements, etc. can contribute the creation of something different.  Perhaps a “heightened original.”  He therefore concluded that to call a cover or a copy "not real" is not correct.  He uses the example of Bob Seger’s “Turn the Page.”  Metallica covers this song, and it becomes their own because of Hetfield’s particular voice and the metal sound that Metallica is known for.  Then an artist named Thomas Pederson covers it, clearly bringing in influences of Seger and Metallica into the recording.  While Pederson’s version is Dharmik’s favorite, I’d say that the qualities of Pederson’s performance were clearly defined by the relationship to the original and covered version of the previous utternaces.  Pederson isn’t mimicking per se, but I don’t know if he’d have gotten there on his own.  Dharmik goes on to chat briefly about AI, pondering why a robot’s version of art may not be considered real.  He believes that while AI may have a programmed consciousness that is capable of creating “real” art, that art should have human thought (or human consciousness) behind it.

Oh no!  I talked about AI on the internet!  I support AI!  Please don’t hellishly torture me in the future!

Lisa draws our attention back to the denseness of Baudrillard, but pulls out a gem that “stuck to the fly paper of her cerebrum.” Baudrillard “draws the distinction between true and false, between the ‘produced’ symptom and the authentic symptom.”  She goes on to talk about the idea of “absorbing simulation” in the wonderfully weird movie Being John Malkovich.  In the film, John Cusack plays a puppeteer who begins to create puppets in the image of real people in his life and manipulates them to act in the way he wishes the people in his life actually would.  Then he gets to go inside Malkovich, and hijinks ensue.  His experiences become copies of copies.  Also in a throwback to last semester, Lisa discusses Pachelbel’s Canon in D, where a simple chord progression is repeated over 50 times.  In a clip she shares, we see a string quarter reinvent the song right on stage (while skipping about!), changing bow strokes and utilizing pizzicato.  She ventures that while a song’s value might not be increased, its existence beyond the original intention may lend for a more sustainable life.
Sarah talks about Edvard Munch’s Expressionist painting The Scream (which we saw in class yesterday), and the novelty of the Wilhelm Scream.  The Wilhelm Scream (which you can listen to on her page) was a subpar sound effect used in television and film for 67 seven some years.  Munch’s painting has been spoofed by Bugs Bunny, Despicable Me’s Minions, Spongebob, and more.  She definitively notes that in both pieces, what began as a repetition of the archetype is now the only way the original is verifiable.  She goes on further to say, along the lines of Baudrillard, that there are things we simply know, but don’t know we know.  Furthermore, the knowledge of the original doesn’t exist until the mind is made aware that there is indeed an original form from which all these subconscious signposts originated.  Hmmm.  Does this perhaps coincide a bit with what we’ve been doing in our neutral mask work?  This idea that we are, as actors, have to be a blank slate and that everything is an original thought- a new discovery- is immensely challenging, because how can we unknow what we know?  Back to Bob Seger for a sec- he says in a song, “I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then.”  And Sarah brings us back to Baudrillard’s sentiment that a painting is “only as true as it exists in the mind.” But is it possible to get our mind’s eye that clearly onto canvas without it being influenced by what we already know?  Yikes.  My brain hurts.
Luckily, I have Austin sharing a Bill Maher clip which was a palate cleanser.  But first, he posits that as we’ve moved into the 21st century, an increasing number of works of art or “important art” are developing from a “deepening well of inspiration,” with a nod to the past being intentional.  He cites Picasso’s tenet, “good artists copy, great artists steal.”  He then shares a clip from Maher’s “Religulous” in which Bill finds himself a Biblical Theme Park interviewing “Jesus.” Maher tells the “Jesus” about Horus, who was indeed born of a virgin, healed the sick, walked on water, had twelve disciples- you get the picture.  The Jesus-Actor-Guy is either really trying to stay in character, or truly can’t believe what Maher is saying- which goes to Austin’s point: If so many of the major doctrines of the creation story existed already in older belief systems, is it possible that the sacredness of the Bible might actually be just an early example of the repurposing of preceding ideas and creative storytelling? Austin concludes with the notion that if you personally hold something to be beautiful or significant- at the end of the day, it is.
Erica moves us into a different art form- dance!  Or specifically, one of her favorite forms of dance- hip hop (#obsessed).  She maintains that choreography isn’t a copy of a copy, but an individual interpretation or re-imagining.  As I watch the sick moves, I saw what she was talking about.  It’s the same group of dancers doing the same dance, but their dance is difference each time.  Maybe it has to do with the person/people they are dancing with.  Maybe it has to do with a factor like their hair falling in their eyes and they have to move their head differently so they can see- who knows?  A dance seems to be new each time because the interpretation is personal and unique to each individual.  Erica further brings up Auslander’s musings on the robot’s executions, and how the most “traditional definition of performance” comes with the “agency of the performer as the interpreter of the text of some kind.”  We know, from our dance class with Claudio last semester, how easy it is for each of us to interpret choreography differently, just as we would approach the same piece of text differently.
Mike gets right to the point, stating that his initial reaction to my blog query is “no.”  He argues that art should be characterized by fluidity or changeability ion its existence.  He furthers Erica’s ideas on interpretation by saying that while a piece of art may be his in creation, it becomes specific to the person reiterating it.  (Look at what Valentine does to Thomasina’s iteration in Arcadia!)  Mike goes on to point out that there are hundreds of musicals that use literary novels as source materials.  Wow.  I knew there was a lot, but not that many.  I’ll repost his link so you can see for yourself. 
He goes on to talk about one of my favorite musicals, Spring Awakening.  He suggests that without the German play written in 1891 by Frank Wedekind, we could not have had the contemporary hit that the musical is today.  And if art’s purpose is to inspire, what’s a better form of engagement?  A kid who sees the musical may go back and read the play.  Or the high school English class that reads the play then goes to see the musical. Artistic win!

Osi begins her post by discussing mimetic behavior development as infants, which leads to being rewarded for mimesis.  She ponders if this mimicry leads to shallow or fake behavior.  She then talks about mimic poems, which at first I thought I’d never heard of.  Then I realized I’d had to write one in my high school English class.  And I use this exercise sometimes with my kiddos studying sonnets.  Mimic poems are written in the style of the original poet.  It can be a jumping off point to help students write poetry, and some are quite creative (please read “Anti-Beef Petition”- it’s kinda hilarious).  Osi describes it as a “happy medium between plagiarism and originality.” She plays devil’s advocate to this as well though, pointing out further that inspiration must stem from somewhere so it is completely original. The original work sparked emotions and peaked consciousness in the artist- if we are copying that artist, why should we be rewarded for something that is potentially superficial or false?  She draws to a close by talking about the “Paint with a Twist” or “Paint with Pinot” social art classes that are popular right now.  I’m familiar, as I tried to convince my husband go to with me to one called “Brushes and Barstools.”  He said, “Why would I want to paint a copy of a painting?”  I thought it was kind of a cool idea though- making my own art.  As Osi concludes, if I’m sentimental about the mediocre painting I create, “all of a sudden it is priceless.”  As Austin said earlier, if you hold something to be beautiful, it is.  And Osi quips, “Originality is in the eye of the beholder.”

Last but not least- Fangs For the Memories, Emily!  She discusses the many incarnations of Dracula.  Of course, preceding Bela Lugosi’s iconic Dracula was the 1922 monster movie Nosferatu.  Then Lugosi’s Dracula was filmed at Universal.  However, Emily brings up a case of the copy being better than the original.  After the filming of Dracula at Universal during the day, a night cast and crew would come in and film the same movie (using the same sets, costumes, et al), but in Spanish.  Despite a non-Spanish speaking director, iconic Mexican actress Lupita Tovar, along with a talented cast and camera crew made what some argue is a superior Drácula.  Spanish Dracula used more fluid camera motion and innovative techniques.  The Spanish version’s cast/crew would sometime observe the Lugosi version filming during the day, then arrive at set that night saying, “We can do better.”   Jumping back to Nosferatu, a character whose film came out a decade before Universal’s Dracula, Emily points some kinda strange things.  Like, even though he was named Count Orlock and not Dracula, and even though the location is different, the Dracula through-line is the same. But as all the versions of Dracula/Nosferatu have been remixed, comedic bits like “What We Do in the Shadow” are now pretty much unrecognizable from the original.  Which is fine.  Emily’s watched them all anyway (and probably will again).

Again, thanks for all your great work this week!  I had fun reading.  Till next time- Salud! 







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