Out of Our Pores

Hair is said to be stronger than rope. When wrapped together, strands of hair can become unbreakable bonds of keratin. Whether it be on our heads, faces, arms, legs, chests, toes, or any combination of these, most of us have this substance seeping out of our pores. It is strong, it is powerful, and it has potential. Whether or not we employ this potential for the sake of expression, it remains. We call it hair.

As humans, we are mammals, and unlike many of our kind, evolution has carried us to become significantly less hairy creatures over time. Despite the fact that we have so little hair in comparison to our comparable animal species, such as dogs, gorillas, and woolly mammoths, much time and management goes into the industry of caring for and dealing with hair. We care about the color, the length, the texture, the way its shaped, its thickness, its volume, its body–and how it represents us as members of a civilized culture. The social constructs behind hair, this natural part of our bodies, are pointlessly complex and restrictive. Women are expected to shave their legs and wax their bodies, becoming relatively hairless besides the hair on the top of their heads–of which they are expected to keep well-maintained and styled. Men are typically viewed in the opposite sense–to have hair on their bodies but short hair on their heads. While modern times have been able to minimize the stigma behind this constructed “rule,” as women are typically seen to have hair of any length while some men sport long hair, there is still a clear distinction between the hair lengths and styles of men and women. Regardless of length, women are expected to have their hair styled and well-maintained, while there is no expectation for men. Breaking from this gender normative lens, additional constructs and expectations are formed for people who may be gender non-conformist. Also, despite this U.S.-centric lens, other cultures have different values behind body hair and acceptable hair styles. With all these factors playing into the boundaries for style, true expression over the artistic medium stemming from our bodies is censored by the culture we live in. In order to truly express oneself via hair, the individual must be willing to break the mold and not fear the snap judgments of other members of society who may fear this deviation from the norm.

Whether it be a woman letting her leg hair run wild or a man taking a curling iron to his beard, hair can become an expressive medium if given the chance to grow.

Azuma Makoto & Pushing Plant Potential

Gardens are not the only venues to exhibit plants as a work of art. While many houseplants exist and conservatories with indoor botanical exhibits are growing in popularity, the true artistic potential of plants as a living medium for creative works is rarely expounded upon. The traditional display of plants can become tiring and uninspiring, as a single specimen of a series of plants is grouped together in an array of contrasting or complementary colors to elicit a desired aesthetic. Rather than display plants in potted soil or the natural setting of growing up from the earth, we should push for a radical change in display, pushing flora to its limits and expanding its potential as an artistic medium in a way not found in the natural world. Azuma Makoto cultivates the fullness of this idea.

Owner of JARDINS des FLEURS, a haute couture flower shop in Tokyo, Makoto specializes in both the artistic practice and client work of using trees, leaves, flowers, and moss to construct various pieces of art. While his customers receive state-of-the-art, highly customized floral arrangements to fit any form of their imagination, the embodiment of what Makoto can envision for his plants exists within his private work. Dozens of his displays have appeared around the world, each with a unique intent, from suspended trees to floral body suits. It can be considered among the most beautiful and unique practices in the world.

One of the most fascinating displays has been in suspending plants. Using the metal frame of a cube and a series of thin wires, Makoto strings up a variety of plants, giving them the effect of floating. Considering we rarely see a full plant—that is, we mainly notice the leaves and flowers and features of the plant above the soil—suspending the plant in open space allows us to visually explore the roots and finer points of the specimen from several perspectives, unbound by the earth. Like the ancient Japanese art of bonsai, Makoto incorporates small trees into his display, bending them in unnatural directions or exposing them to frozen environments for the sake of aesthetics and exploration.

In exploring the potential of the plant medium, it is interesting to dissect the human relationship with flora. While we are, in fact, fauna—animals—looking into the connection we have with our counterparts can incite many ideas. Makoto, in his “Leaf Man” exhibit, displays a metaphorical symbiotic relationship we can hold with our little green friends. Through employing plants, specifically leaves, as means of covering our bodies, we see that plants offer us shelter and cover. While we exhale carbon dioxide and they inhale it, they in turn fill our lungs with oxygen and offer the boughs we need to build homes. They conceal us, and we support them. Also, this display strangely mirrors the Garden of Eden and the Biblical need to conceal one’s body.

Makoto’s art does not end with the use of suspension and human coverage. In his “Collapsible Leaves” exhibit, Makoto limits his medium to only leaves, folding them in intricate patterns and combining them in ways to create a naturally-appearing product. He goes so far as to invert his plane of growth and direction by having bonsai trees grow out of a lush surface on a wall. Turning dimensions askew, Makoto challenges our perceptions of what plants can be and where they can be found. Altering the state of plants is an idea Makoto has whole-heartedly embraced. Via his work, he has pushed the potential of plants and unlocked greater avenues for future floral art.

Rooks, Knights, and Bishops, Oh My!

The greatest game of all time garners its beauty not only from the intricacy of its elegant design but from its variety of tastefully styled constructions. Chess derives from several ancient games intended to simulate war across the globe, and each contributes to the miraculous game that we all know and love. Specifically, chess draws its origins from the Indian chaturaṅga—a game containing pieces with similar movements to modern rooks, knights, bishops, and pawns, but called chariotry, cavalry, elephants, and infantry—and the Muslim shatranj—which has many similarities to both modern Western chess and the Japanese variant shogi. After chess was adopted into European culture, it fully became the standard F.I.D.E. (World Chess Federation) version we know today. While the game is an abstraction of war tactics and strategy, the design of its pieces gives it a classic and elegant feel that mirrors the brilliance of thought required to succeed in the game. In this regard, there are quite literally hundreds of variants in existence, which attempt to embody and exploit different aspects of the game and explore its further intricacies, whether that be increasing the number of players, the movements of pieces, or the shape and size of the board. Many of these deviations from standard F.I.D.E. chess are wonderfully amusing, and I strongly suggest exploring them at the Chess Variant Pages.

With so many varieties in existence, it is easy to see the impact chess has on the people subject to its addictive allure. Years are dedicating to exploring and mastering this game, and, as a result, it has become a quintessence of the human condition. At its heart, chess subsists of pure logic and rational thought. In this regard, it tends to employ the left-brain, which is often favored by society for the progression of accomplishment, in war, business, or development. However, while the game is mastered in understanding and applying this rational thought, the display of chess and the environment it operates in allows for creativity to play its part. Ergo, chess sets are some of the most brilliant pieces of art.

Many sets are traditionally beautiful, with hand-carved pieces or glass boards, many of which can be placed on display in homes for the sake of class and esteem. Some sets change the display of pieces, deviating from the traditional Staunton chess set which has been adopted by F.I.D.E. as the standard since 1924. These deviations can sometimes become more concrete, such as using figurines, which are designed as people or animals. Other times, they can become more abstract, such as finding a singular shape to stand for a known piece.

Not only are the pieces greatly altered, but the boards themselves can take on dynamic changes, whether that is scale or direction. There are several “life-sized” chess sets around that involve two to three foot pieces on a large ten-by-ten foot board. Also, the boards can have a variety of different colored pieces, separating from the standard black-and-white checkers. The most original design I have found incorporates a vertical board, where the game is played on a wall-hanging by moving pieces up and down a picture-framed surface.

Many variations of chess exist, from the concept of the game to the design of the pieces and board, but they all mirror the brilliance of the elegant game.

A Call for Virtuous Video Games

I am not a fan of video games.

Mindlessly falling away into a realm of flashing lights and sounds of illusion is often a means to mental decay. Modern video games have become more concrete and closely parallel to society. People blast away at the avatars of others with artificial guns, peppering virtual bodies with imaginary bullets. The sights and sounds are brought to life before our eyes and the lack of abstraction takes us to a place we can perceive, without much thought, as reality. While this is often the basis for arguments against violent video games, I am not trying to debate against the content of these games, simply the premise and existence for them. At their core, they lack ingenuity. They are largely based off of war, sports, or racing, and while we typically may not  have access to the full extent of these activities in real life, the fact that these games are simply reflections of this reality does not aide in the mental development of players.

Video games need to be more intuitive, leaving more to the imagination and less to graphics. While technology becomes increasingly easier to use and manipulate, a higher creativity is required for furthering greater development. With fresh and innovative ideas, we can form technology as not only as a wondrous tool to eliminate grueling and grinding work (such as mindless data entry, etc) but a refreshing toy that teaches us how to think and learn.

We need technology to better our minds, not help them. VectorPark.com is a beautiful example of what improved technology can create. It breaks the mold for what video games have popularly become. It defines something new and strange, something that makes us think and learn, like children, developing a greater plasticity in which we can continue to learn and figure out the unknown. There is a small niche of these games in existence and they revolve around a philosophy of thought and intuition, rather than a dexterity of control. It challenges the mind by pushing the player into a flow state. If we, as a society, can learn to embrace the unique, the strange, and the challenging, we could develop a whole new line of video games and draw in a more intellectual audience that benefits society, rather than detract from it.

So start by playing Feed The Head, both for your intellectual and visual enjoyment. This game, like any form of art, holds the potential to inspire you.

Silicon Shuttles to a Synthetic State

On average, we spend <insert shockingly high but hopefully accurate statistic here> hours in front of a screen every day. These screens are windows to whatever we wish to see. The internet offers us places we’ve never been and people we’ve never met IRL. Our lives exist in front of them, our eyes scanning spreadsheets and two-dimensional newsfeeds when they were designed to perceive depth and location of prey we used to hunt. We have no reason to search after running animals when we can purchase preservative-pumped meat through online retailers. Computers take away our need to move beyond the glowing pixels in front of us.

With several hours spent before screens each day, one begins to wonder the aesthetic appeal of such devices. Is it the great graphics that draw us in? New Apple products are perpetually improving upon display and interface design. Is it the simple appeal of the Internet and the indirect connections we can make with other humans? Constant improvements on social media sites and web browsers are adapting to make these experiences increasingly easier to access, speedier, and more enjoyable. Whatever the case may be, we are spending exponentially more time before screens as “better” technology continues to develop. In this sense, a significant portion of our minds and presence exists within this virtual realm. We take up residence in our homepages and online media sites, but when we exit out of our browsers, we are faced with an image that overtakes our field of vision—our desktop.

Most often, these pieces of art are beautiful depictions of the real world, whether it is a panoramic view of mountains or oceans or a photo of family or friends. These pictures can be cycled and rotate, becoming abstract shapes and designs, but in whatever case, they are what we perceive as visually pleasant. If these images are constructs of actuality, as art is most often based off inspiration found in the real world, why is it that they make such a dominant presence in our virtual existence? Perhaps we are setting up a home in the screen, a place to find peace or silence when the world is loud or find action and life when reality goes dim? If computers are the places for our minds to explore and wander, the world is left to be a simple provider. Rather than be enjoyed or explored as a primary passion, it is a place we are simply stuck in and thus escape to the virtual realm. Beautiful desktop images serve as enjoyable views when glued to the screen. These pieces of art can be seen as indirectly evil, as they are offering a Land of Lotus leaves to our visual senses, enticing them to spend more time before the screen. For this reason, I have set my desktop to the most atrocious scene I could spawn:

Rather than waste away my years before a screen, lulled into satisfaction by misleading visual art mimicking the true beauty of the real world, I hope to spend less time in front of the screen and more time in reality. Despite the many great tools it can provide, the computer is a double-edged sword. We ask it questions and it answers them. If we ask it why we should spend more time in reality, it will give us an answer, perhaps even a good one, but it will lure us back to our virtual desktops.

Google, why do I ask you my life questions? And how does Yahoo always have the answer?

Maybe that’s why I spend so much time in front of this screen?

Hand Socks & String Monkeys

As children, most of us were given toys which we were encouraged to manipulate through our imaginations. Whether we played with dolls or action figures, we took on the role of orchestrating their actions and encounters with one another. We projected voices and personalities, body language, thoughts, and relationships upon these inanimate objects, which instilled life into them. As time progressed and we matured, we often abandoned that sense of imagination through the cycle of socialization, as we were influenced by society to believe that a hold in reality is more important than a life absorbed in illusory fantasy. However, as civilized members of society, we are advocates for storytelling and the spread of life experiences. As time and technology progresses, those mediums of storytelling often change and transform, but the essence remains. While it began orally, storytelling has many of its roots in theatre and performance art. While as a civilization we prefer stories to be rooted in a realm of realism, the conventions by which we share these stories requires an effort of the imagination. A culmination of ideas and thoughts must be projected through concrete objects–products of reality–to display a more abstract concept of the world via fantastical insights. These imagined thoughts can best be displayed through a medium similar to our childhood toys–via object manipulation. As opposed to simply using objects as tools to do concrete activities, we can throw emotions and human qualities upon these objects to make them relatable to us. It brings them to life.

An example of this is best demonstrated through puppets and marionettes. Like oversized and more intricate action figures, these creations can be manipulated to tell stories of us, as humans. Similar to theatrical performances with actors and props, the art of puppetry relies on the imagination of the viewer and the exact manipulation of the performer. While the digital medium of film can incorporate more precise details of both acting and effects–to inspire the consumer of the media in a more prescribed fashion–live action performance captures a new state of magic. This real world effect inspires more fantastical thought as the performers must be adaptive and clever on their feet, making a more personalized performance, as no iteration of an act will be exactly the same. The same goes for manipulated objects, marionettes and puppets. Marionettes are controlled from above, with strings, while puppets are manipulated from within, by the hands. Taking this into consideration, a puppet often interacts directly with the performer, be it sitting in his lap and conversing or acting on a stage, with the manipulator hidden below. Conversely, marionettes are indirectly influenced by the manipulator, as the strings controlling the movements are tugged from above by an unseen person. Not only does the skill of controlling puppets involve adept motor skills and ventriloquism, but it encompasses the creation of compelling stories and the ability to create inspirational and well-constructed manipulatable objects that reflect us, as humans.

Although it may not be the most popular form of artistic expression, the world of hand socks and string monkeys is a beautiful medium of sharing stories and should never be forgotten. One effort to support this niche medium is celebrated here, in Ann Arbor. Be pro-puppet and attend FestiFools this summer.