Last week I fell and fractured my wrist in three places. It was in F200, I was doing a few dance steps, nothing fancy, my left foot just gave way and collapsed and my right hand broke my fall. And broke, as it happens. I was preparing for a performance night I was doing something for, for Carola's class. I was going to reprise 'Me Against the Music'.
The Follow Up:
The last thing I wanted to do with a bandage wrist was to type up the story, especially in a morphine-laced painkiller addled state. So here's the expanded version. I fell, broke my wrist and could see that my wrist was mishapen. The adrenalnie from the impending performance saved me from feeling the full extent of the pain. A friend, Carlin, drove me to the local hospital. I had to stay there three nights. They gave me morphine intravenously. I had an operation to set my bones and had a steel plate put in (which does not set off airport security). The drugs made me extremely nauseous and not very lucid. Alexis and Dana were absolute angels, visiting me in hospital twice a day and spending time with me and helping me. I fell ten days before my flight home and I needed a lot of help and support to pack up my clothes and bits from my dorm room and take to my studio and also pack for my return home. A lot of people helped me with all sorts of things from wrapping up and boxing my kitchenware, returning the hire car, washing my hair and driving me to the airport. All this help was amazing and it humbled me to see how willing people were to help me out. It sort of was the response to my earlier blogs posts that were reflecting on my isolation here. It that sense, my wrist break really helped me see my situation in a different way, perhaps a way that I needed to see. It was painful, and the hospital bills are shit, but apart from that, I won't moan about it.
Thursday 15 May 2008
Monday 5 May 2008
Finding Everything And Realising / Freedom of Expression As Revolution*
And that's it.
I finished. At 10.30pm precisely, tonight, I finished watching every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I was crying my eyes out. I watched the last episode again with Joss Whedon's commentary. You may think that I am just vulnerable to the syrup and simplicity of children's television, but I would argue with you there. The emotional themes of the show and the honesty in the writing and producing of it made it truly amazing; outstanding. The ongoing theme was really the experience of being an individual, having to take on life and face your battles alone. But, paradoxically, also as part of a group, a small, tight group with strengths and weaknesses but a group nevertheless. Spike was/is amazing. He basically saves the world by causing the Hellmouth to implode and destroying Sunnydale in the process. I commit very easily to things which partly explains my determination to complete watching all of the shows, but there are deeper reasons why Buffy won my heart. The small class has been a great place for me to really work through psychoanalytic readings of conventional Hollywood, Freud's ideas on the dichotomy women are faced with, creating resistance and subversion within the male gaze and growing in personal confidence with developing my own ideas and vocalising them in class. There were no photo MFA students in the class - mainly art and film students and evenly split between grad and undergrad students, which gave me a break from my usual set of peers. Its given me the opportunity to understand why I am here, 5000 miles away from home, following my vocation, alone, but part of a network of close friends supporting me and keeping me on track. I have been able to meditate on the purpose of life. I went to breakfast this morning with Dana - we went to a diner and and ate pancakes - and Dana was telling me all about being confused by the variations in the guidance she receives on a daily basis from her mum and dad and I realised then that I do not have that, an adviser, like that. But then I watched Buffy and I understood my situation a little better. I do not need an adviser because I can interpret and learn through art what it is I do and how to do it. And finally, indulge me here with a syrupy moment of my own, I'll try to keep it brief. I found Buffy and Spike's relationship utterly plausible - a girl, with a vocation, though lost, treading water, wasting time and a boy, been doing the same thing for years, not going anywhere, repeating the same things without fulfilment and in the process of leaving behind old habits and without a game plan or seriously understanding the nature of their love, growing and evolving and becoming better versions of themselves because of that love. I'm sorry reader, but I identify.
I've had a long day - after breakfast I went to the Fuzzy Pictures class show installation and put up my piece. It is a piece of text that I have printed very large and laminated it so that it is shiny like a photograph. The text stands in for a photograph and allows a meditation on representation. I wanted the text to operate the way I speak in class - which can be quite lucid and articulate, which is disappointingly not usually mirrored in my writing. So I invited the other class members to email their definition of 'Fuzzy Pictures' and suggest to me an example of a fuzzy picture. I'll post my text piece here so you can have a read of it.
After that I took part in a re-do of Allan Kaprow's happening 'Publicity', which was organised by CalArts students working with David Bunn and MOCA who are doing a retrospective of Kaprow at the moment. The whole thing was thoroughly enjoyable and really unique. A bunch of us went at Vasquez Rocks - which has been used by Star Trek - and wearing hard hats, erected any kind of temporary structure out of string and wood and debris, whilst 4 people videoed the action and others used loud speakers to call to each other. It was a strange kind of way to understand how Kaprow's happenings work, maybe he would or woudn't approve. But you know what? I enjoyed it.
On Friday I went to Miller Updegraff's house. He and his wife hosted a rather lovely dinner party with a great group of people. There was only one other current MFA student there, in the mix where an animator/tv person who works on South Park, the curator of the Hammer Museum, a theatre writer/director & reviewer for the LA Weekly, 2 CalArts faculty, a woman who is one of the 17 assistants for Mike Kelly, Taryn the admissions director for the art school and lil ol' me. I was quite nervous about the evening and thought I might be out of my depth, but I really had a great time.
Last week the visiting artist was Mary Kelly who I found very interesting and I really liked her and her work and the week before I went to a film evening with Carolee Schneeman. It's been so lovely to get the opportunity to see these women in the flesh and hear them talk about their work. Although Carolee's latest video piece consists of photographs she takes daily of her being woken up by her cat licking her on her open mouth first thing in the morning, which I'm sorry to say, I found gross.
The other week an art MFA2 student, Nate Page, removed all the posters from the school (which is against school policy) and turned them into a giant piece of artwork on the far wall of the main gallery. I did not see the piece itself but I hear it was quite beautiful and extended all the way up to the high ceiling. As a violation of school policy Facilities removed the piece and re-stuck the posters around the campus. That evening, Aaron Wrinkle did a sort of protest performance in defence of Nate, which was really thought provoking, all about bringing back the radical spirit to CalArts. Arguably, CalArts is less radical than it has been in the past, but what I am interested by, is that we, the students, are encouraged to think of this place as ours, and to do with it what we want. We make the place. And that is true here, more than any other place I have experienced. And I love it.
I have 11 days before I come home to Sheffield for the summer. And that's it.
*taken from the lyrics of F.E.A.R. by Ian Brown
I finished. At 10.30pm precisely, tonight, I finished watching every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I was crying my eyes out. I watched the last episode again with Joss Whedon's commentary. You may think that I am just vulnerable to the syrup and simplicity of children's television, but I would argue with you there. The emotional themes of the show and the honesty in the writing and producing of it made it truly amazing; outstanding. The ongoing theme was really the experience of being an individual, having to take on life and face your battles alone. But, paradoxically, also as part of a group, a small, tight group with strengths and weaknesses but a group nevertheless. Spike was/is amazing. He basically saves the world by causing the Hellmouth to implode and destroying Sunnydale in the process. I commit very easily to things which partly explains my determination to complete watching all of the shows, but there are deeper reasons why Buffy won my heart. The small class has been a great place for me to really work through psychoanalytic readings of conventional Hollywood, Freud's ideas on the dichotomy women are faced with, creating resistance and subversion within the male gaze and growing in personal confidence with developing my own ideas and vocalising them in class. There were no photo MFA students in the class - mainly art and film students and evenly split between grad and undergrad students, which gave me a break from my usual set of peers. Its given me the opportunity to understand why I am here, 5000 miles away from home, following my vocation, alone, but part of a network of close friends supporting me and keeping me on track. I have been able to meditate on the purpose of life. I went to breakfast this morning with Dana - we went to a diner and and ate pancakes - and Dana was telling me all about being confused by the variations in the guidance she receives on a daily basis from her mum and dad and I realised then that I do not have that, an adviser, like that. But then I watched Buffy and I understood my situation a little better. I do not need an adviser because I can interpret and learn through art what it is I do and how to do it. And finally, indulge me here with a syrupy moment of my own, I'll try to keep it brief. I found Buffy and Spike's relationship utterly plausible - a girl, with a vocation, though lost, treading water, wasting time and a boy, been doing the same thing for years, not going anywhere, repeating the same things without fulfilment and in the process of leaving behind old habits and without a game plan or seriously understanding the nature of their love, growing and evolving and becoming better versions of themselves because of that love. I'm sorry reader, but I identify.
I've had a long day - after breakfast I went to the Fuzzy Pictures class show installation and put up my piece. It is a piece of text that I have printed very large and laminated it so that it is shiny like a photograph. The text stands in for a photograph and allows a meditation on representation. I wanted the text to operate the way I speak in class - which can be quite lucid and articulate, which is disappointingly not usually mirrored in my writing. So I invited the other class members to email their definition of 'Fuzzy Pictures' and suggest to me an example of a fuzzy picture. I'll post my text piece here so you can have a read of it.
After that I took part in a re-do of Allan Kaprow's happening 'Publicity', which was organised by CalArts students working with David Bunn and MOCA who are doing a retrospective of Kaprow at the moment. The whole thing was thoroughly enjoyable and really unique. A bunch of us went at Vasquez Rocks - which has been used by Star Trek - and wearing hard hats, erected any kind of temporary structure out of string and wood and debris, whilst 4 people videoed the action and others used loud speakers to call to each other. It was a strange kind of way to understand how Kaprow's happenings work, maybe he would or woudn't approve. But you know what? I enjoyed it.
On Friday I went to Miller Updegraff's house. He and his wife hosted a rather lovely dinner party with a great group of people. There was only one other current MFA student there, in the mix where an animator/tv person who works on South Park, the curator of the Hammer Museum, a theatre writer/director & reviewer for the LA Weekly, 2 CalArts faculty, a woman who is one of the 17 assistants for Mike Kelly, Taryn the admissions director for the art school and lil ol' me. I was quite nervous about the evening and thought I might be out of my depth, but I really had a great time.
Last week the visiting artist was Mary Kelly who I found very interesting and I really liked her and her work and the week before I went to a film evening with Carolee Schneeman. It's been so lovely to get the opportunity to see these women in the flesh and hear them talk about their work. Although Carolee's latest video piece consists of photographs she takes daily of her being woken up by her cat licking her on her open mouth first thing in the morning, which I'm sorry to say, I found gross.
The other week an art MFA2 student, Nate Page, removed all the posters from the school (which is against school policy) and turned them into a giant piece of artwork on the far wall of the main gallery. I did not see the piece itself but I hear it was quite beautiful and extended all the way up to the high ceiling. As a violation of school policy Facilities removed the piece and re-stuck the posters around the campus. That evening, Aaron Wrinkle did a sort of protest performance in defence of Nate, which was really thought provoking, all about bringing back the radical spirit to CalArts. Arguably, CalArts is less radical than it has been in the past, but what I am interested by, is that we, the students, are encouraged to think of this place as ours, and to do with it what we want. We make the place. And that is true here, more than any other place I have experienced. And I love it.
I have 11 days before I come home to Sheffield for the summer. And that's it.
*taken from the lyrics of F.E.A.R. by Ian Brown
Feeling Fuzzy - Text Piece
Feeling Fuzzy
Photographic meaning is extremely fuzzy. Trying to represent is like juggling with jelly…
This semester, our Fuzzy Pictures1 class did not reach a consensus on what fuzziness is. Not that I took a poll. But it is hard to pinpoint how meaning can be derived from an image. Any given image shifts its meaning when it has to operate outside of its natural context. But what is a natural context for an image? Fuzzy Pictures2 encouraged us to think about how meaning functions in relation to information given about an image, or how an image functions when detached from such information. Is it better to have contextual information to ease us into a photograph? Can we jump straight in? If we do jump, what happens if we land in the wrong place? And is there a wrong place?
At the end The Silence of the Lambs I know that Clarice Starling is ok, she does not get killed. But each time I watch the scene in the basement where Buffalo Bill watches Clarice through night vision glasses, my heart starts pounding and for a moment there, I really wonder how it will end. I cannot help myself. When we see photographs, regardless of how contentious the image is with regard any kind of veracity, how can we keep ourselves from reacting? How can we look at a photograph and not feel “something”? We may be able to intellectually respond to a photograph, knowing that the subjective nature of any image makes all photographs impossible to read literally, and we may be aware of how vulnerable to massage pixels are in a digital photograph, but can we stop ourselves from emotionally responding to a photograph? Can we stop ourselves from being duped? More importantly, is it desirable to be so cynical? Indeed, it is nice enjoying photographs. But then, are all photographs Fuzzy Pictures3 and can other forms of representation be Fuzzy Pictures4 too?
Garfield Minus Garfield (garfieldminusgarfield.tumblr.com) can be seen as a Fuzzy Picture5 as it subverts the regular Garfield comic strip by (guess what?) removing Garfield. Without this crucial character, the narrative moves from an amusing dialogue between cat and owner, to a lone man asking questions to the air. Because we mourn the humour that is meant to present, the scenario quickly moves to tragedy as we realise that Jon is all alone.
A photograph of a pet horse: presumably a beloved friend can take on Fuzzy Pictures6 attributes if the angle of composition focuses our attention on his enlarged head, cropped out eyes and ears and highlights a nostril and mouth with chance patch of strong light. A pet portrait mutates into a snarling monster as the musculature of the flared nostril comes towards us. Photographs can be pushed into being extremely Fuzzy Pictures7 by complicating their methods of production. An evolutionary method of production involving a camera, film, Photoshop and pencil makes the labelling of an image we are seeing fuzzy. This gives these hybrid images an uneasy feeling – all categorisation being disallowed, we are denied easy access to the image. A night time cityscape, or a long exposure without a flash, create a literal Fuzzy Picture8 . All that can be made out is the blur of street lights, a few office bulbs left on in high-rising buildings and a strip of vertical sky between the buildings, an eerily light and dark feeling at the same time. Nothing is clear in the photograph. This photograph is not an attempt to transmit information, but its Fuzzy Picture9 -ness can be used by the image maker to describe a relationship with the city. A sense of wonder, mystery and respect is created in the haze of city life in this image. Cindy Sherman trades on Fuzzy Pictures10 ideas in all of her work, but perhaps, her work combining medical anatomical dummy parts are her fuzziest. The clash of body parts, plastic genitalia, awkward angles and red silk resists any pleasure that we may wish to find in a photograph. As we move between the different elements of the photographs, attempting or failing to find meaning, erotic pleasure, we are resisted at every turn. We must withdraw from the photograph, scolded for our vain try to enter it.
Larry Sultan’s book, Evidence, is full of Fuzzy Pictures11 . The fuzziness here lies in the lack of contextual information. Butting the images up against one another without any explanatory notes takes the world of the evidentiary document to the realm of nonsense, and all of a sudden the photographic meanings are up for grabs. Any discussion can be had over any image. The most fantastical explanation is permitted. Stripped of a title and context, Robert Capa’s Death of a Loyalist Soldier (1936) is an extremely Fuzzy Picture12. This is a soldier’s last breath. This moment, the most important moment for this soldier, has been recorded and saved for us to view. There is no model release form. This is death. Photographs can record anything we choose. This type of photograph reminds us of the ethical-aesthetic responsibilities we have as image makers, as we produce visual evidence of moments existing while the fuzziness of the eventual photograph can be at odds with our intentions. War photographs exist long after the conflict has passed. How do we interpret them now? Can we re-contextualise them for the present, or must we be careful to preserve all contextual information in order to view such imagery as historical artefacts? Or does this type of image transcend its own context, and reminds us of the fragility of life, when the other imagery we are surrounded by, with imperfections erased, tells us a contradictory message? What about news pictures? The images we see circulated on the television, newspapers and online. Are they all Fuzzy Pictures ? If we accept their inherent fuzziness, how should we approach them? If we accept there is no truth in a news image, what do we see exactly when we encounter it? Must we stop looking?
1 I think a fuzzy picture is a picture that lacks one or both of the following: a clear referent, despite the fact that pictures are supposed to refer/point toward something, and/or a picture in which the intentionality of the photographer seems (purposefully) unclear. Fuzziness is almost entirely dependent upon context.
2 Fuzzy Pictures are photographs that create questions but do not provide answers.
3 Because a photograph is by nature a recording of something, whether real or created, a viewer is always aware that they are looking at a photograph, and there is always a lingering question of how the photograph came to be. It becomes impossible for a photographer to simply send one message with a photograph as that photograph immediately also brings up discussion of the process, form, and representation. The photograph is formed in this mystery of being. Without it, the photograph would not be controversial, it would not be alive. It would not ask questions or present answers to those that had not yet been asked, the way a photograph always does. Because of this, all photographs are "fuzzy", although some perhaps fuzzier than others.
4 A fuzzy image is and can be anything, everything and nothing. Taken literally, a fuzzy image can be an image with fur on it, or with motion causing a blur. A fuzzy picture gives little to nothing about itself and allows the viewer to make up and fill in the gaps.
5 I guess the way I see it is that there is fuzziness in all photographs. For instance, with almost any form of art photography, we run into gray, or fuzzy, areas. For example, with documentary photography, we are in a sense replicating something through our own ideas. So the images themselves are not really what we are documenting, rather they are the idea that the photographer has about their subject. So, I guess, to me, the idea is not that a picture IS fuzzy but what it is in a photograph that makes it fuzzy.
6 Fuzzy Pictures are ones that refuse to give all the information and ask questions; fuzziness represents the instability in art.
A piece of artwork that always remains unresolved. The ambiguity of the work should leave the viewer thinking about all the possible resolutions that are unattainable.
7 A fuzzy image is and can be anything, everything and nothing. Taken literally a fuzzy image can be an image with fur on it, or with motion causing a blur. A fuzzy picture gives little to nothing about itself and allows the viewer to both make up and fill in the gaps.
8 I think a fuzzy picture is when what is outside the frame is more important than what is in the frame, physically and theoretically.
9 The heart of the idea is in understanding fuzziness itself. Like in general use, it indicates something unclear, as in a disjunction or delay between the perceived surface and the suggestion of a more solid form somewhere within, possibly edgeless or permeable. The purpose of seeking out this function in a photograph can be manifold. Simply to point at the difficulty of locating meaning in an image where context often obscures its nature as a construction. When looking at a fuzzy picture, you may find yourself spit back out, somewhere unexpected or at a complete loss for the tangibility that photography is known for. If a photograph manoeuvres slipperily around meanings, fuzziness is the reveal of the layers between those meanings as well as between the photographic object and its viewer. Places and thoughts that are complicated to perceive and are not recordable through the process of light reflecting off a surface necessitate seeing in-between layers of indeterminacy.
10 The term “fuzzy picture” produces a fuzzy definition that includes, but is not limited to, an image that blurs the lines of certainty, that raises questions within the viewer. It offers an intangible element that can exist on an intuitive level, while becoming confused when examined in rational terms.
11 A fuzzy picture is 1. not a kodak moment
2. one that makes you linger over the answer to "what is this a picture of?" a. defers closure
3. revels in the inevitable and incommensurate gap between representation and its referent
12 Fuzzy Picture- An image in which the meaning is to be interpreted by the viewer.
Photographic meaning is extremely fuzzy. Trying to represent is like juggling with jelly…
This semester, our Fuzzy Pictures1 class did not reach a consensus on what fuzziness is. Not that I took a poll. But it is hard to pinpoint how meaning can be derived from an image. Any given image shifts its meaning when it has to operate outside of its natural context. But what is a natural context for an image? Fuzzy Pictures2 encouraged us to think about how meaning functions in relation to information given about an image, or how an image functions when detached from such information. Is it better to have contextual information to ease us into a photograph? Can we jump straight in? If we do jump, what happens if we land in the wrong place? And is there a wrong place?
At the end The Silence of the Lambs I know that Clarice Starling is ok, she does not get killed. But each time I watch the scene in the basement where Buffalo Bill watches Clarice through night vision glasses, my heart starts pounding and for a moment there, I really wonder how it will end. I cannot help myself. When we see photographs, regardless of how contentious the image is with regard any kind of veracity, how can we keep ourselves from reacting? How can we look at a photograph and not feel “something”? We may be able to intellectually respond to a photograph, knowing that the subjective nature of any image makes all photographs impossible to read literally, and we may be aware of how vulnerable to massage pixels are in a digital photograph, but can we stop ourselves from emotionally responding to a photograph? Can we stop ourselves from being duped? More importantly, is it desirable to be so cynical? Indeed, it is nice enjoying photographs. But then, are all photographs Fuzzy Pictures3 and can other forms of representation be Fuzzy Pictures4 too?
Garfield Minus Garfield (garfieldminusgarfield.tumblr.com) can be seen as a Fuzzy Picture5 as it subverts the regular Garfield comic strip by (guess what?) removing Garfield. Without this crucial character, the narrative moves from an amusing dialogue between cat and owner, to a lone man asking questions to the air. Because we mourn the humour that is meant to present, the scenario quickly moves to tragedy as we realise that Jon is all alone.
A photograph of a pet horse: presumably a beloved friend can take on Fuzzy Pictures6 attributes if the angle of composition focuses our attention on his enlarged head, cropped out eyes and ears and highlights a nostril and mouth with chance patch of strong light. A pet portrait mutates into a snarling monster as the musculature of the flared nostril comes towards us. Photographs can be pushed into being extremely Fuzzy Pictures7 by complicating their methods of production. An evolutionary method of production involving a camera, film, Photoshop and pencil makes the labelling of an image we are seeing fuzzy. This gives these hybrid images an uneasy feeling – all categorisation being disallowed, we are denied easy access to the image. A night time cityscape, or a long exposure without a flash, create a literal Fuzzy Picture8 . All that can be made out is the blur of street lights, a few office bulbs left on in high-rising buildings and a strip of vertical sky between the buildings, an eerily light and dark feeling at the same time. Nothing is clear in the photograph. This photograph is not an attempt to transmit information, but its Fuzzy Picture9 -ness can be used by the image maker to describe a relationship with the city. A sense of wonder, mystery and respect is created in the haze of city life in this image. Cindy Sherman trades on Fuzzy Pictures10 ideas in all of her work, but perhaps, her work combining medical anatomical dummy parts are her fuzziest. The clash of body parts, plastic genitalia, awkward angles and red silk resists any pleasure that we may wish to find in a photograph. As we move between the different elements of the photographs, attempting or failing to find meaning, erotic pleasure, we are resisted at every turn. We must withdraw from the photograph, scolded for our vain try to enter it.
Larry Sultan’s book, Evidence, is full of Fuzzy Pictures11 . The fuzziness here lies in the lack of contextual information. Butting the images up against one another without any explanatory notes takes the world of the evidentiary document to the realm of nonsense, and all of a sudden the photographic meanings are up for grabs. Any discussion can be had over any image. The most fantastical explanation is permitted. Stripped of a title and context, Robert Capa’s Death of a Loyalist Soldier (1936) is an extremely Fuzzy Picture12. This is a soldier’s last breath. This moment, the most important moment for this soldier, has been recorded and saved for us to view. There is no model release form. This is death. Photographs can record anything we choose. This type of photograph reminds us of the ethical-aesthetic responsibilities we have as image makers, as we produce visual evidence of moments existing while the fuzziness of the eventual photograph can be at odds with our intentions. War photographs exist long after the conflict has passed. How do we interpret them now? Can we re-contextualise them for the present, or must we be careful to preserve all contextual information in order to view such imagery as historical artefacts? Or does this type of image transcend its own context, and reminds us of the fragility of life, when the other imagery we are surrounded by, with imperfections erased, tells us a contradictory message? What about news pictures? The images we see circulated on the television, newspapers and online. Are they all Fuzzy Pictures ? If we accept their inherent fuzziness, how should we approach them? If we accept there is no truth in a news image, what do we see exactly when we encounter it? Must we stop looking?
1 I think a fuzzy picture is a picture that lacks one or both of the following: a clear referent, despite the fact that pictures are supposed to refer/point toward something, and/or a picture in which the intentionality of the photographer seems (purposefully) unclear. Fuzziness is almost entirely dependent upon context.
2 Fuzzy Pictures are photographs that create questions but do not provide answers.
3 Because a photograph is by nature a recording of something, whether real or created, a viewer is always aware that they are looking at a photograph, and there is always a lingering question of how the photograph came to be. It becomes impossible for a photographer to simply send one message with a photograph as that photograph immediately also brings up discussion of the process, form, and representation. The photograph is formed in this mystery of being. Without it, the photograph would not be controversial, it would not be alive. It would not ask questions or present answers to those that had not yet been asked, the way a photograph always does. Because of this, all photographs are "fuzzy", although some perhaps fuzzier than others.
4 A fuzzy image is and can be anything, everything and nothing. Taken literally, a fuzzy image can be an image with fur on it, or with motion causing a blur. A fuzzy picture gives little to nothing about itself and allows the viewer to make up and fill in the gaps.
5 I guess the way I see it is that there is fuzziness in all photographs. For instance, with almost any form of art photography, we run into gray, or fuzzy, areas. For example, with documentary photography, we are in a sense replicating something through our own ideas. So the images themselves are not really what we are documenting, rather they are the idea that the photographer has about their subject. So, I guess, to me, the idea is not that a picture IS fuzzy but what it is in a photograph that makes it fuzzy.
6 Fuzzy Pictures are ones that refuse to give all the information and ask questions; fuzziness represents the instability in art.
A piece of artwork that always remains unresolved. The ambiguity of the work should leave the viewer thinking about all the possible resolutions that are unattainable.
7 A fuzzy image is and can be anything, everything and nothing. Taken literally a fuzzy image can be an image with fur on it, or with motion causing a blur. A fuzzy picture gives little to nothing about itself and allows the viewer to both make up and fill in the gaps.
8 I think a fuzzy picture is when what is outside the frame is more important than what is in the frame, physically and theoretically.
9 The heart of the idea is in understanding fuzziness itself. Like in general use, it indicates something unclear, as in a disjunction or delay between the perceived surface and the suggestion of a more solid form somewhere within, possibly edgeless or permeable. The purpose of seeking out this function in a photograph can be manifold. Simply to point at the difficulty of locating meaning in an image where context often obscures its nature as a construction. When looking at a fuzzy picture, you may find yourself spit back out, somewhere unexpected or at a complete loss for the tangibility that photography is known for. If a photograph manoeuvres slipperily around meanings, fuzziness is the reveal of the layers between those meanings as well as between the photographic object and its viewer. Places and thoughts that are complicated to perceive and are not recordable through the process of light reflecting off a surface necessitate seeing in-between layers of indeterminacy.
10 The term “fuzzy picture” produces a fuzzy definition that includes, but is not limited to, an image that blurs the lines of certainty, that raises questions within the viewer. It offers an intangible element that can exist on an intuitive level, while becoming confused when examined in rational terms.
11 A fuzzy picture is 1. not a kodak moment
2. one that makes you linger over the answer to "what is this a picture of?" a. defers closure
3. revels in the inevitable and incommensurate gap between representation and its referent
12 Fuzzy Picture- An image in which the meaning is to be interpreted by the viewer.
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