Wunderkammer Alert

Brief news flash:

A friend of mine just came back from Washington, DC and tells me there is a really interesting exhibit at the Smithsonian's Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, titled "Encompassing the Globe: Portugal and the World in the 16th and 17th Centuries," on until September 16th. The show is about Portugal and exploration, and the effect it had on the culture of the times.

To look at Henricus Martellus's 1490 map of the world is to behold a strange, unsettling planet. Europe seems vaguely familiar, but beyond the Mediterranean everything dissolves wildly into myth. Africa is a squarish blob, connected to Asia by a long strip of land. A huge island called Taprobana dominates the Indian Ocean, and there's no hint of the Americas or the Pacific Ocean; the map simply stops at China. Half the world is a confused jumble, and the other half is not yet even imagined.

But jump ahead a half-century to Pero Fernandes's map of 1545 -- and the planet is utterly transformed. A huge wave of exploration has brought the world into focus for the first time: Africa has taken on its distinctive shape, India is no longer an insignificant bump, the Pacific is there in all its vastness, and the Americas have appeared. Guesswork has given way to knowledge: A new world, with all its complexities and possibilities, has suddenly come into being.

.."It's hard for us to imagine how transformatory this period was," says Julian Raby, the director of the Smithsonian's Sackler and Freer galleries. "It's the first moment of globalization -- information about the variety of the world, in terms of its peoples and cultures, was just pouring in. And part of what we want to get across is that sense of wonder at the complexities and textures of the world."

-- from the Brooke's review in the Washington Post

Here's a secret, though: If you go down to the lowest basement level of the gallery, near the back somewhere, there is a room full of pieces from a Wunderkammer. My friend says it's not set up or organized like one, but there are some really marvelous pieces: a rhinoceros horn wrapped in gold, a bezoar the size of your fist (also decorated with gold), and a number of other really interesting, wonder-ful things.

And of course the show has maps. Lots of cool maps.


"When Ferdinand Magellan set out on the expedition that would circumnavigate the globe (1519-1521), he was looking for a route to the Spice Islands, or the Moluccas, now part of Indonesia. Magellan was killed en route, but his navigator Antonio Pigafetta survived. This map, which includes a clove tree, is a from a 1525 French copy of Pigafetta’s journal."

-- From Smithsonian Magazine online.

The Adventures of Prince Achmed (and other shadow beings)

My friend Gwyan lent me this film, and I am forever in his debt, for it is one of the most amazing films I've ever seen.

I've been fascinated by shadow puppetry since I was a teenager, when I had an anthropology teacher who was an expert on Bali. She showed us Balinese dancing and Balinese shadow puppets, among other things, and thus my introduction to Wayang theatre, or Indonesian shadow puppet theatre. In my first novel (as yet unpublished), the Wayang plays an important role, as in some parts of Java, in certain situations, it is used as an exorcism ceremony.

Lotte Reiniger was one of those peculiarly creative souls who was lucky enough to have the support and resources to follow her interest - and her interest, from a young child, was silhouettes. She even built her own theatre, so she could put on silhouette performances for her family and friends. Through a series of fortunate circumstances, she was able to work her way into a select group of avant-garde filmmakers and artists and thus begin making short films using silhouettes, and animation techniques that were, at that time, very new.

She was quite successful, and in 1923 she was the recipient of a large amount of raw film, and so was able to set about creating a longer film, now the oldest surviving feature-length animation. Reiniger anticipated Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks by a decade by devising the first multi-plane camera for certain effects, and her animation - in detail, subtlety, and sheer design sense - is stunning.


Apparently, the original print was lost in World War ll bombing; all German nitrate prints, which had colored backgrounds, were lost as well. The only remaining prints were all black and white, and even then only fragments were found. Working from these surviving bits, German and British archivists have restored the film including adding back the original delicately-tinted pastel backgrounds, which enliven the lovely background designs of Walther Ruttmann.

The extraordinary thing about this film is its obvious brilliance. Working with cardboard, scissors, and thin sheets of lead, Ms. Reiniger created some of the most delicate, detailed images in film or shadow theatre. The beauty, the sensibility, the naturalistic movement, are in some respects still unparallelled in animation today. Her images are reminiscent of other artists, such as Kay Nielsen, who teetered in the Chinoiserie space between curvaceous Art Nouveau and more muscular, clean-cut Art Deco; like traditional wayang, she worked with characters carved into mere slivers of shadow. However, unlike traditional wayang, these puppets move all over: their hair, their clothes, their wrists and ankles.

As Art on Paper says:

"The only daughter of a banker and a homemaker, Reiniger set great stock by her birth in the last year of the nineteenth century. Except for the fact that she worked in film, her techniques and sensibilities reflected the earlier century more than her own. She described her childhood as 'extraordinarily' happy, her artistic interests celebrated and encouraged by both her parents. Theater captured her imagination early on, but after her first film, she was hooked; she had in the meantime discovered her 'unsettling gift' for making silhouettes.

Though inspired by shadow theater, Reiniger’s figures appear to have none of the stiffness of their non-film predecessors. 'Film is movement,' she noted, often comparing filmmaking to ballet. 'It’s the combination of curves and diagonals that gives ballet and animation their sweet tenderness and their striking directness.' While using literal light and shadow, Reiniger also relied on the shadings of music: the fine variations in her animations often parallel the tone and stress of musical notes rather than the hiccoughs of flip-book style animating techniques. She rather modestly noted that, "even with primitive materials, one can work small wonders."

The story is based on a melange of stories from the Arabian Nights, fitting several ideas neatly together to fill in spaces in the familiar tale of Aladdin. It's a fairy tale, with all the trimmings, a really good adventure story with visuals that stimulate that wild-longing-part-of-the-brain, the part that says "I wanna go there!" I love it all, except perhaps the parts where the Princess lies back passively, while yet another person abducts her against her will.

My biggest issue with this really beautiful restoration is that Milestone Films, the people who are distributing this work of art, are resolutely issuing cease-and-desist orders for all YouTube and other clips on the Internet. Personally, I think this is a publicity disaster, and I hesitate to recommend you spend money on these people, but the film is really so wonderful that you should at least check it out. I'm going to buy it, PR department or no PR department.


Along the same lines, may I recommend a group called Shadowlight Productions, who have been putting on really wonderful shows around the San Francisco Bay Area (and elsewhere) for years now.
Another example of creative people using the Wayang as a springboard, Shadowlight produces video of their work, which run from bringing to life a jazz-age poem from the 1920's, to telling a funny Native American story about Coyote, to Xanadu, the epic Chinese love story about Kublai Khan.

"ShadowLight Productions, founded by Larry Reed in 1972, has a mission to bring the stories of the world to light. [They] hope to build a world community through crosscultural storytelling and the magic of shadow theater."

They have been known to use huge projection screens as large as 30ft x 15ft, ensuring that their wonderful images come across much larger than life, and immersing the audience in the story in a way that traditional small shadow puppetry might not. Their images, which often use live actors costumed in shadow-making armatures, are startling, while still referring to the tradition of Balinese shadow puppetry. Wonderful stuff.



PS. I seem unable to access their site, except for the link above, to their store. I will look into it. Sorry!

Mechanical Thinking and the Human Soul

Holding Onto Myself, by Peter Callesen

Machine With Wishbone, by Arthur Ganson, where the machine that gives the wishbone life is also its burden to pull

My apologies for being late this week. Firstly, for those of us on academic schedules, the After School Chaos Control kicks in, where all the cleanup happens after weeks of grading; then we naturally go through a bit of slacking when the big push is done, and I'm afraid it has all lasted longer than I planned!

For your perusal this week I have a couple of great examples of mechanical thinking and the possibility of a lyrical end-product. By mechanical thinking I don't always mean the ability to fix clocks or understand what the car mechanic is saying, but rather the ability to envision how something is put together; to see the flat outlines of something that will be three-dimensional; to have an intuitive grasp of how something will work before it is created and, when it doesn't quite work how you wanted, to be able to envision an interesting solution.

A few examples of mechanical thinking are:
- Creation of machinery (of course)
- Packing a lot of things into a small space
- Paper engineering
- Rowing a boat
- Building structures, like treehouses, chicken coops, and of course larger constructions
- Rubix cubes (when you're able to be successful)
- Pattern drafting, for making clothes
- Sewing too, in a different way
- Puzzles of all sorts
- Mold making, especially several-part molds
- Glass-blowing, throwing pottery, and many of the sculptural arts
- Animation

Some of these could be conceived as spacial abilities, or simply artistic vision, but I think there is another element involved, about working with many pieces and parts and managing, somehow, to make them all work together. Paper engineering and patternmaking are, indeed, a kind of spacial imagining: taking flat sheets and bending them to encompass volumes of space. But there is often the matter of collars, sleeves and so on (or interlocking cuts and twists, for paper), which must be fitted together properly. Sewing, long denigrated by society as a "hobby", is actually quite fascinating, like a wearable puzzle: there are so many kinds of seams, so many intricate and complex ways of putting things together and turning them inside-out, that it is mind-twisting sometimes to understand what the result will be.

Other everyday examples, such as packing or rowing a boat, require a willingness to turn space around in one's mind and discover the trick which will make it work. Not only are you thinking of how something will happen in space, you are in effect twiddling the dials of reality, turning the world upside-down and backwards to get where you need to go.

The Machine with Artichoke Petal makes a plain piece of dried artichoke walk, plodding eternally on a turning wheel - which is also the driver for his walking

Arthur Ganson, who I found (despite his apparent fame) via a completely different link on Boing Boing, is a kinetic sculptor who - unlike many mechanical scuptors - creates his own parts. The elements of his machines: cogs, gears, worm gears, arms, wheels, dangly bits and so on, are built by hand from wire and other materials. But best of all are the odd elements he integrates into his machines: artichoke leaves, wishbones, and toy chairs are animated and integrated in such a way as to make us see them in a contemplative, funny, anthropomorphic way. This sideways-type thinking, the ever-present consciousness of art-making, is so clear and present in Mr. Ganson's work, that it bowls me over. Just the type of reality-twiddling that we need more of in this world.

The marvelously contemplative "Thinking Chair," which seems to pace its rock eternally, thoughtfully.

Thinking Chair, detail

Inspired by the work of such artists as Jean Tinguely and Paul Klee, as well as his own observation of people and human nature, Ganson's delicate, complex mechanisms work in the same fluid, skeletal way that bodies work. Their simplicity and self-containedness allows us to see either the mechanisms themselves, or the everyday items attached to them, as living creatures - rather than puppets dancing to the (comparatively enormous) machine's direction. It is easy to see emotion and humor in the machines; their humble materials, so clearly homemade, make you look closer and breathe, "Wo-o-ow!" - and wish that you could meet the man, see the machines in person. Smithsonian Magazine describes his work as "Rube Goldberg meets Jean-Paul Sartre." MIT Museum describes it as "Gestural Engineering." Mr. Ganson himself says that he is "not interested in intellectual sculpture that needs to be explained to be understood." And yet, he makes us think that an artichoke petal is a person, and imbues that person with so much expression, simply by means of mechanical movement. His inspiration is bewildering in its enormous obviousness, its excellent, mundane, intuitive sense of wonder.

You can see many of his pieces beautifully video-documented on eBaumsworld, as well as on his own site (beware the T-1 warning; these seem to work perfectly well on DSL).

Impenetrable Castle

Impenetrable Castle, detail

Another person worth noting, since I mention paper-engineering, is Danish artist Peter Callesen, whose "A4 papercut" series is all about the human condition. Playing on the idea of the object and its materials, Mr. Callesen creates 3-dimensional figures who are permanently fixed in place by the very stuff that made them. The results, as he points out, can be full of pathos:

"I find this materialization of a flat piece of paper into a 3D form almost as a magic process - or maybe one could call it obvious magic, because the process is obvious and the figures still stick to their origin, without the possibility of escaping. In that sense there is also an aspect of something tragic in most of the cuts."

Closet

Closet, detail (note the monsters all crammed inside)

Following the theme of imbuing parts with a further meaning and scope, Mr. Callesen is another artist who takes his materials and pulls them together into an amalgam of human consciousness. Helene Nyborg Gallery describes his work with the words, "Beauty, fragility, and failure."

Looking Back

"Big wave moving towards a small castle made of sand": stunning simplicity

Angel

Like Arthur Ganson, Peter Callesen's work is often stunning in its simplicity, yet surprisingly moving. Like Mr. Ganson's work, Mr. Callesen's are exquisitely detailed, obsession-driven, and intensely personal (in the sense of not-grandiose). Both artists create wonders out of simple materials, and each, in his own way, deserve a place in the Cabinet.

On Friday, if I have time, I'll be posting another amazing, obsessive artist who created a really extraordinary film - using scissors and paper.

Thank You

Thanks to all the readers who answered my plea! It was unanimous that the "Read On" links were unpleasant, so I have pulled them. Whew. What a wild-goose chase!

Looking forward to posting more soon,

Heather

Editor's Plea

To all my readers,

I have just begun adding "Read More" links to turn some of my posts into "folding" posts, so that there is not so much to scroll through when you're perusing the blog. I'm somewhat ambivalent about this, as sometimes I would like the full text of the (shorter) posts to simply be there, and have not seen a way to allow the link on some pages and not on others (it is built into the template). If I leave them up, I will have to go back and reformat all the old ones - which I am happy to do if it seems worthwhile.

I would like to ask you, who actually read the thing, what you would prefer: all posts simply there and undivided (which I sometimes feel disrupts the flow of an essay), or the ability to scroll through and pick and choose. I don't put a whole lot of posts up, so perhaps it doesn't matter. Still, I'd like your feedback so I'm not going about trying to please the wrong people.

Thanks!

Heather

Mr. Roy's Elegant Machines

"Illusion"

I've been meaning to do a post on David C. Roy's kinetic sculptures for a long time. I found him by accident when I was looking for something else, and was captivated by his combination of precision, mathematical engineering, and sheer beauty.

Each one is spring-driven and runs for an average of 20 hours. They are delicately carved from lovely, highly-polished, different-colored woods, and the best ones create the most marvelous moire illusions with their movements. One feels one could sit and contemplate their mesmerizing, shadow-theatre shapes for hours.

"Radiance"

Mr. Roy, who has a degree in physics and engineering, says that the artistic influence of his wife, and later, an interest in optical patterns, led him to the designs he produces today. The names of his sculptures, words such as Radiance, Illusion, Spectrum, and Harmony seem to imply a dual interest in physics and metaphysics, or at least meditation, on Mr. Roy's part.

Interestingly, I thought these objects were small, either hand-held or head-sized; but if you look at Mr. Roy's About the Artist page, you will see that they are actually quite large, some of them about the size of large wagon wheels.

It's nice to see an elegant combination of craftsmanship and mechanical works; and combined, they produce a contemplative and, in some cases, satisfyingly clockpunk result.

Sprog (Cog) Blog

"A boy's head in a jar, with a finger in his mouth and a nice lacy collar to cover his neck." (A la the arm holding an eye socket with which Elder Child was very impressed).

I swore I'd never write about my children, but they have been doing these really cool drawings recently, out of the blue. My father, in his dry way, used to say "A thing of beauty is a joy forever" when beholding something truly ugly, but that is not so for these. They actually are things of beauty.

Elder Child is eight, Younger Child is five; both are female. Below are descriptions by the artists.

Star Drips

(Elder Child): "This one's going to be kind of hard to explain. It all started with trying to make a light bulb work in an unusual kind of way. The star drips drip into a little bottle which has a pipe that goes to those things, which go back and forth really fast, scratching the disk. This makes electricity. The little ball goes along and picks up the electricity, and sends it through the tube to the light bulb. It makes a light bulb work... it's kind of all that just to light a light bulb."

Oh, my God. I'm raising steampunk children. They're going to grow up and rule the world...And my favorite part is the little >pop!< at the tip of the alembic, which unfortunately you can't really see here. Where did she learn about alembics, for God's sake?

Walking Machine

(Elder Child): "The gear moves around and pushes the bar which moves the arm, to push the legs each one by one and then they walk." The inspiration for this first one apparently came from Gyro Gearloose, with fanciful extras added on. (Both children are vintage Donald Duck/Scrooge McDuck afficionados)

Just...something

(Elder Child): "I'm not sure what it's for. It's just...something. The vent sucks up oxygen and makes the pump go up and down. It goes through the pipe which dries it off, and into the tank, which is four gallons full at the moment." I like the way the bulb of the pump is moving in and out.

Machine Girl

(Younger Child) "Mama, come look! I made a Machine Girl!"
Me: So, are these lights, hanging from this hair?
YC: Yeah, and the cheeks are fingernail clippers. She is in a cemetery because she is a burier. That's her job.
Me: Are those clocks on the tombstones?
YC: Yeah! And that's electricity coming out of her head. And the skul has electricity too.
Me: So, and these are clocks for her eyes?
YC: Yeah, and her eyelashes are magnifying glasses. And her nose is one of those things for pumping gas...you know, the pointy thing? And with the numbers on top.
Me: Are her legs mechanical?
YC: Yeah, with gears.
Me: What about this, up here above her head?
YC: Oh, that's a sign that says "no frowning." She's thinking about it. See? She's smiling. She's thinking about putting that sign there.
Me: Oh, I see. But the skull is frowning, isn't he?
YC: Yeah, but he's dead! But he's still gonna get in trou-ble!

So...did they learn all this by osmosis?

Newspaper Fragment

(Elder Child): "This is a torn piece of a newspaper. It's describing a strange mechanical butterfly that was found midway [sic] through carrying drugs from California to Japan."

The text of the image says, "Strange Insect Found! This unexpected creature has been found carrying drugs from California to Japan. This species is believed to be extinct. But soon there are many other strange insects other than butterflies. There have been dragonflies, flies, moths, bees, wasps and even mice."

Below this is the truncated text of another news story.

Predictor

(Elder Child): "The gear goes around and pushes the rod, which squeezes the bulb thingie, which blows air through the tube and out through the vent. This blows the feather which brushes the disc, making sparks, which get sucked up by the other tube which sends electricity off somewhere. Each one finds something to predict. When they come back, they take a vote, and whichever one wins is what's going to come true (this doesn't always work). PS. They're kind of alive."

Wow. Kind of like the weather report, but much cooler. I'd like to have one of these. Maybe it would change the world...?

Thinly Disguised Plagerism

Younger child, not to be outdone, draws this:
(Younger Child): [warning: five-year-old explanation, somewhat moderated, follows] The person peeking in from the right-hand side is looking at a dictionary. The mechanism, which is "inside a mountain," consists of a gear turning a "twirler" (at the bottom), which is scratched by something (that looks like a carrot but isn't). The feather at the top of the carrot tickles the wires hanging off another whirler. Above that is a "shining thing which makes it hot, just like a mixer and dough, and this is the mixer." The "mixer" makes some electricity which turns on the light.
At the bottom is what appears to be a light-sensor, which turns everything off at night (but has a backup switch in case you need to turn it on). The array on the side is "a lightbulb that takes the warmth from the air. So this part is for people who like to be cold." The person-shaped thing on top is "something to show that you can read here."

I promise you that I have not been trying in any way to influence my children. I write the blog when they are at school, and don't show them much of it (though occasionally they'll catch glimpses of some of the images). On the surface, I am neither gothic nor Victorian, nor any other unusual look. Where did this fascination come from? Perhaps it is simply obvious that I love things like this. Perhaps they developed this interest separate from me (after all, they love Castle in the Sky and other steampunk-like children's media). Perhaps it is some kind of virus and they've caught it from me...