#course:visualstudies

I am dreaming of going places this summer 2019.

I’m thinking of going away someday, to go on brand new adventures. I want to live in a RV, hit the open road and see the world.

A home on the road sounds wonderful. What to bring essentials, clothes,

I want to travel to Montréal, 72 hours in Montréal, for the art, history and the beauty all around. I will be very happy. Gotta stop and relax, and thrive in the experience. Refreshing water in every direction.

Seeing the setting sun, the scenery is pretty. We have seen better days.

there are lots of places in the world I want to go to. Will the future change? I have a good feeling in time it can. More good times are in the future!

Neil Jenney, Trash and Trashcan, 1970. Oil on Canvas. https://www.moma.org/collection/works/78525?classifications=9&date_begin=1964&date_end=1975&locale=en&page=2&q=&with_images=1

Finding Meaning in Trash and Trashcan

The artwork I selected for this assignment is a painting called Trash and Trashcan by Neil Jenney. For this 1970 painting, Jenney used synthetic polymer paint on canvas, with painted wood frame. Overall, the painting appears quite minimalist and paired with a straightforward title (Trash and Trashcan) the subject matter is easily identifiable in the image. However, a deeper analysis of its form reveals the use of several principles of design working together to make the focal point, or main visual idea of the artwork, identifiable. In the instance of this painting, I identified two focal points. The primary focal point is, of course, the trashcan itself.

This artwork makes the focal point identifiable by utilizing positive space and negative space. The object of the trashcan occupies the positive space its green background is the negative space. As opposite spaces meant to create a distinction between two parts of a whole, there is still a sense of unity and balance.

For instance, there is unity in the textures Jenney creates through his brushwork. Using simplified, yet short, unbroken strokes for the green background, I interpreted this space as being akin to grass. He doesn’t use broken strokes for the grass, but short, almost wave-like strokes which implies continuous movement. He uses almost the same brushwork for the trashcan; multiple but evidentially broken strokes, which go in different directions. Since he uses relatively the same size brush strokes when painting the trash can, and when painting the grass, he achieves unity there; the trashcan feels like a natural part of the setting it is in by not straying from the size of his brush or the opacity of colour too much.

Compared to the trashcan, the trash itself is much smaller; one of the two crushed cans is barely visible but the other crushed can is within the viewer’s line of vision. The shade of grey the metal of the crushed cans is the same shade of warm grey the trashcan is, which unifies the trash and the trashcan as one. Jenney uses two principles to help make the cans stand out more. His most effective method is using red, the complementary colour of green, to generate visible contrast where the red meets the green. His second method seems hardly noticeable because the viewer is not meant to consider it closely at first glance, but upon looking closer it is evident that the brushwork is different for the two cans; smoother brush strokes make for a smoother texture. The brushwork of the grass differs around the cans too. Rather than large strokes, the grass surrounding the cans have finer, more defined strokes. White lines representing highlights help define the grass further.

Still, the most identifiable way Jenney uses contrast overall is his desaturation of the trash can; warm-toned grey and white for the text, against a saturated, green, background.  Yet, despite this colour contrast, the value of the colours used in the image is relatively the same. The shade of grey of the trashcan and can, the shade of green of the grass, the shade of red if the can’s label, the shade of white of the text, and even the shade of black used for the black border share the same warm undertone, thus unifying the artwork. It only appears that Jenney could have applied the paint thick at the bottom of the artwork first then spread the paint in such a way that by the time he reached the top, the paint was thinner– lighter. This is a technique I can tell he might have used to create highlights and shadows in the trashcan too.

The artwork feels mostly balanced, but there’s a sense of imbalance from the brushwork. The silhouette of the trashcan is vertically centre, but horizontally off-centre and for a good reason. This helps control the dominance of the trashcan, making the space the grass occupies feel balanced with the amount of space the trash can occupies. The trashcan is upright, making it seem grounded and stable. However, the brushwork Jenney has used is a typical method for creating texture and movement in a painting. These dynamics and the title of the artwork, and the composition of the subject matter, does not immediately compute in my mind. Sure, this technique makes sense for the grassy backdrop, however, the grass is not the intended focal point of the painting; the trash and trashcan is. This psychological imbalance is probably more easily spotted by art enthusiasts. When I contemplated further on what his intention was for this technique, I still arrived at the perception that as the trash and trashcan are situated in nature, it acts as a commentary on the presence of unnatural objects in a natural setting, and how elements of trash return to the earth in this process of throwing away trash into a trashcan.

Despite his unique approach in using brushwork for texture and movement in the trashcan, there are minuscule white lines that ‘stop the movement’ and create the shape of the trashcan.

The secondary focal point I identified is the front of the trashcan. The word TRASH appears in white capital letters against the lightest shade of grey of the trashcan. This contrast makes the word easier to read, but also makes this side of the trashcan identifiable as the ‘face’ of the trashcan. Highlights and shadows and lines direct the three-dimensional appearance of the trashcan. You get the sense that a light source is coming from the top left of the painting because the right side facing away from the trash is a darker shade of grey. The grass at the base of the trashcan is also a darker shade of green.

For this exercise, I revisited the first page of my sequence assignment. A single panel serves as my first page, meant to be viewed as a photograph. As the establishing shot of my main characters’ home (the entire setting of the story) which will set the stage for comparing the idiosyncrasies of Harry and Bambi, I felt it wasn’t necessary for the overall plot of the sequence to include a perspective of Harry and Bambi’s home within a neighbourhood setting. Since the story occupies this limited space, it helps me direct the implications of ”walking contradictions’ towards only being between Harry and Bambi, rather than Harry and Bambi versus their entire neighbourhood.

That being said, since I can picture Bambi’s overzealous Halloween decorating overtaking every inch of their space, even when it’s not Halloween, and Harry sort of, letting her run free with her passions, it would still serve another layer of ‘contradiction’ to show more of their neighbourhood to reveal how different Harry and Bambi are from their neighbours.

In this recreation, I was most mindful of the depth-of-field used for various elements. Just strictly speaking for my original framing of the shot (which I framed for identification), I found that while using the technique of fading to stimulate depth, it inspired meaning for the distance between the stone walls in the foreground, where the Jack-o-lantern sits beneath the mailbox and their house in the background– a picturesque vision of cottagecore aesthetic. I’m already relying on a theme of mystery to make the image work; a Jack-o-lantern is not your typical summer lawn decor, but it guards this house that’s completely hidden by mother nature taking back its gritty 19th-century brick exterior– now pull back, and this mysterious looking house is next to some relatively normal-looking houses? A contradiction, indeed.

Story 1: Daydream, Vol. 7

Fiona joined her boyfriend Michael in the living room at around 11:45 p.m. She’d finally finished and submitted her final paper for her gothic literature class online, just barely meeting the deadline. She was exhausted by then, wanting nothing more but to cuddle with Michael and play on the switch to de-stress.

Her and Michael played ten rounds of Mario Kart on their switch (should have been five but Michael threw a tantrum after losing three games in a row). Still, Fiona came out as the definitive winner having won six rounds against Michael.

While Michael washed the dishes she went ahead and got ready for bed. She downloaded the Mario Kart game on her phone while doing her skin care and got herself started in between steps. The game didn’t seem too bad so far but she could see where Michael’s complaints about the dodgy controls were coming from. She wondered if there was any way to fix the steering and drifting in the settings to give her more control. Luckily there was and she quickly did that.

“This map is so hard,” Fiona mutters. She’s been lying in bed, sitting upright against the pillows having played a few maps now. Michael eventually enters the room appearing tired but relatively content. She’s stuck on a map and was tilting her phone and trying to drift to pull ahead of her opponents.

Michael, understandingly, looked confused.

“That doesn’t actually help, you know,” Michael says pointedly. He begins to get ready for bed while watching Fiona flail around. It amuses him to the point of laughing while planting half of himself on her to see what place she’s in.

“I changed the settings so you steer by tilting your phone and you tap to drift. It’s loads easier for me now,” she tells him as she tilts her phone on a hard left turn. She accidentally elbows Michael’s cheek in the process. “Oh- shit– sorry,” she apologizes over each abrupt motion she makes.

Michael chuckles and pays no more mind to her jerking motions and continues to lay his head in her lap to watch her play. The tower fan is on, pointed directly on Fiona the way she likes it, and truthfully feels quite nice on his face. He never liked the white noise of the fan running in his sleep and his exposed feet tended to get the butt-end of their deal, but he let her have this one thing figuring it’s gotten her to stay around for this long.

Story 2: Walking Contradictions

Harry thinks he knows his wife Bambi well, after being together for nearly a decade. So, when she came into their living room one summer morning, her eyes suspiciously aglow for someone who had to go to the pharmacy to pick up his antidepressants, Harry knew that she was up to something. He could see the cog wheels in her mind turning as he met her eyes from across the room, and his questions were answered upon spotting the small skeleton doll she was holding. It appeared to be made mostly of tiny (he hopes are fake) bones and a barbie-size head. Only the head is missing a face, and had a head full of matted black hair. ..

“That’s creepy,” Harry makes a pinched expression as he looks at it up close, “isn’t it a bit too early for shops to be selling Halloween decorations?”

“It’s never too early for Halloween,” Bambi disagrees as she takes the doll from him, taking it to the fireplace to place it on the mantle.

-:-

The house begins to look like a haunted house well before October 31st.

Harry didn’t really bat an eye when Bambi continued bringing home small Halloween related pieces like ceramic jack-o-lantern models and a practical witch’s spell book, but he felt he needed to step in once he saw her carrying a familiar bust into their living room.

“You are not putting that in here,” Harry immediately takes the bust from her, maneuvering it away from her grabby hands as they reach for it.

The bust was from a shoot he did for his first year, special effects makeup class in university. He had to create a prosthetic of his face; a mask, essentially. It turned out a little wonky since Harry didn’t have the experience he has now, and he might have been high while working on it. He would have thrown it away if Bambi hadn’t wanted to have it, and now he’s strongly reconsidering his decision to keep it.

“Come on, you know how much I adore that thing. It’s art!” Bambi huffs as she tries for the bust with Harry’s face again, but he only holds it above his head where he knows she won’t be able to reach it. “Hey, careful with him!” She gasps, making the jump to grab the bust from Harry which she quickly runs and places on the coffee table.

“But, it clashes with my Michaelmas Daisies,” Harry huffs motioning to how the fleshy bust dampened the soft nature of his purple flowers.

-:-

On Halloween morning, Harry wakes up alone with his face pressed into Bambi’s pillow having rolled onto his right side at some point overnight. He can tell because he can smell her Cloud perfume on the pillow covers.

Harry wanders through the hallway, his socked feet sliding over the recently installed floor boards just for the sake of it, while he takes in the lingering scent of their new walls as well. He mindlessly admires his handiwork. He’s wrapped up in his lavender dressing gown as he makes his way downstairs where the temperature drops, and he wonders if the thermostat is being faulty again.

What he finds in the hallway leading towards the rest of the house is worse than a faulty air con. Among the corny Halloween decor, is the words ‘YOUR NEXT’ painted on the walls in thick fake blood (he hopes).  

“Babe?” Harry calls for his wife as he blinks at the mess on the wall.

“Yeah! I’m in the living room!”

“Come here a minute!” Harry says as he stares at the wall.

The pitter patter of her feet follows his request and soon Bambi meets Harry in the hallway, her hands still covered in the fake blood she’d smeared on their newly painted walls. She’s still carrying a plastic Tupperware container of the fake blood with her.

“Morning baby,” She greets him nonchalantly as she looks at him for his reaction to her work on the walls. “What do you think?”

“You used the wrong ‘you’re’,” Harry sighs as he takes the Tupperware container from her and dips three of his fingers in it. He begins to fix her mistake, adding the apostrophe between the ‘U’ and ‘R’ and an ‘E’ at the end.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize. I was honestly half asleep when I started in the hall,” She admits with a giggle as she takes the Tupperware container back from Harry. “Come see the living room.”

An Introduction By Abigail T.

This is an extreme-close up photo I took of myself in the mirror one summer afternoon a year ago for Instagram. I was practicing my usual self-care routine of doing a clay mask while listening to my meditation playlist, a collection of songs that puts me in a good, relaxed mood whenever I feel stressed and need grounding. I like how it turned out because it looks like a painting done with pointillist technique, like a muted, Van Gogh-Esque self-portrait. Yet, the colour palette is very cold; a blend of dark washes of charcoal grey and sand with cool undertones.

I chose this image to represent me because I’m the classic introvert in a room with creative dispositions who enjoys her hobbies and the aura of mystery she’s cultivated for herself but simultaneously lives in the apprehension of being judged, negatively evaluated, and rejected.

Being a somewhat reserved person my attention to detail goes beyond just taking a simple blurry mirror selfie. Instead, turning that concept into a literal reflection of how I present myself in social situations: seemingly close but in reality far away. Indiscernible against the gradient of a moving world even though I’m still, often masking how I feel, sometimes lost in my head, but also entirely aware of everything around me. I could just be placing too much thought on this one photo of me, but that’s exactly how my mind works; cogwheels always turning and eager to embrace every spark of inspiration that enters it.