May 12, 2008

Where's Lauren?

Oh Blog, how I miss you so.... I think about you every day... So many posts I yearn to make, but my new job and visiting sister have kept me away. Soon the production of my website will be out of my hands, and my neglect for you will cease.

Apologies,

Lauren

May 3, 2008

My Little Guys & Anthropomorphism


During a paper-making class, I made molds and cast little hollow 3D representations of my "little dudes" from my paintings and put them in a simple diorama similar to the landscapes I paint. The figures were made with a very strong Japanese paper-making fiber called Kozo (made from Mulberry tree bark). Then one inebriated night, friend and photographer Gunther Frank took a crazy little picture. (note: I intended on them sitting right-side-up on the "ground," but I like Gunther's interpretation, as well.)

The idea behind my Little Guys, or Little Dudes, as they have been endearingly termed by myself and my fellow artists, involves the concept of anthropomorphism:


anthropomorphism (an-thruh-puh-mawr-fiz-uhm)

1) The attributing of human characteristics and purposes to inanimate objects, animals, plants, or other natural phenomena, or to God. To describe a rushing river as “angry” is to anthropomorphize it.

2)The attribution of human motivation, characteristics, or behavior to nonhuman organisms or inanimate objects.
[I find it fascinating that as humans, we perceive our ability to reason and feel as being so pervasive and omnipotent that we impose it on any other object or living thing we encounter, almost automatically.]
Of course it is now ingrained in our culture to see any "cartoon-esque" character with eyes as anthropomorphic, and therefore sentient and able to emote, think and act. So, yes, I have essentially created little cartoon characters. Some people call them birds, or owls, or "big heads with chicken feet and no arms." And interestingly, some of them appear to others as female or male, though specific gender was not necessarily intentional on my part. Whatever they look like to you, you still relate to the emotions that they convey by their facial expression and juxtaposition to other characters and their environment.

When I made these little models, not only was I excited to transform something I'd only painted into a 3D form (three dimensions have always been a little scary to me), but I hadn't yet included more than one character in any scene. Perhaps this has to do with my overall sense of isolation in this vast world. By putting two Little Guys in one environment (and especially one that appears to be female, and one male), I was able to convey a whole new set of human emotions simply by manipulating their juxtaposition to one another. Soon I'll have better photographs to illustrate that there is a completely different meaning when they are facing each other, when they both facing outward towards or with their backs to the viewer, when one has his back turned to the other, or when they are both facing away from each other. In a way, just by turning them around on their little spindly feet, I could convey just about any relationship that two humans might encounter. Though this all seems so basic, I was elated. Afterall, making art is about making the viewer feel something, right?


This all came about during college, amidst my quest to shed light on exactly why I am creating art, and more specifically paintings. I experimented with making a not-quite-human form that could illustrate how I personally feel (about the world, my day, my past, my future, etc.). In a way, they are Little Laurens. They are self-portraits. They tell my story, though perhaps not directly.





Getting Lost...





...among these trees...






... to rest at last by the sea.




Prior to creating that three part series, I had experimented with this vehicle for expression in many smaller pieces. Here are a few: (all are painting on just about whatever I could find: parking signs, cupboard doors, cardboard (not recommended), plywood, etc.)








This all culminated in perhaps my all time favorite piece, Oh no! The Bees!, which sold during my first solo art show at the Kipple Gallery in Bellingham, WA.


Please leave your comments. I would love to open up a dialogue on the topic of anthropomorphism. Thank you.