Thursday, September 17, 2009

What I've been thinking about lately...

MANIFESTO OF SURREALISM (1924) by A. Breton

...

SURREALISM, n. Psychic automatism in its pure state, by which one proposes to express -- verbally, by means of the written word, or in any other manner -- the actual functioning of thought. Dictated by the thought, in the absence of any control exercised by reason, exempt from any aesthetic or moral concern.

ENCYCLOPEDIA. Philosophy. Surrealism is based on the belief in the superior reality of certain forms of previously neglected associations, in the omnipotence of dream, in the disinterested play of thought. It tends to ruin once and for all all other psychic mechanisms and to substitute itself for them in solving all the principal problems of life. The following have performed acts of ABSOLUTE SURREALISM: Messrs. Aragon, Baron, Boiffard, Breton, Carrive, Crevel, Delteil, Desnos, Eluard, Gérard, Limbour, Malkine, Morise, Naville, Noll, Péret, Picon, Soupault, Vitrac.

They seem to be, up to the present time, the only ones, and there would be no ambiguity about it were it not for the case of Isidore Ducasse, about whom I lack information. And, of course, if one is to judge them only superficially by their results, a good number of poets could pass for Surrealists, beginning with Dante and, in his finer moments, Shakespeare. In the course of the various attempts I have made to reduce what is, by breach of trust, called genius, I have found nothing which in the final analysis can be attributed to any other method than that.

Young's Nights are Surrealist from one end to the other; unfortunately it is a priest who is speaking, a bad priest no doubt, but a priest nonetheless.

Swift is Surrealist in malice,

Sade is Surrealist in sadism.

Chateaubriand is Surrealist in exoticism.

Constant is Surrealist in politics.

Hugo is Surrealist when he isn't stupid.

Desbordes-Valmore is Surrealist in love.

Bertrand is Surrealist in the past.

Rabbe is Surrealist in death.

Poe is Surrealist in adventure.

Baudelaire is Surrealist in morality.

Rimbaud is Surrealist in the way he lived, and elsewhere.

Mallarmé is Surrealist when he is confiding.

Jarry is Surrealist in absinthe.

Nouveau is Surrealist in the kiss.

Saint-Pol-Roux is Surrealist in his use of symbols.

Fargue is Surrealist in the atmosphere.

Vaché is Surrealist in me.

Reverdy is Surrealist at home.

Saint-Jean-Perse is Surrealist at a distance.

Roussel is Surrealist as a storyteller.

Etc.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

The Object as The Portrait

Here are a few images from my Non-Silver Final Project, with a few sentences about it.

I photogrammed glasses repeatedly for the entire semester and reached a point where the glasses became the portraits of those who have owned them, they take on their own personality, and should be treated as the faces and voices of the owners.

 
"Self" (c) 2009

 "Self from back" (c) 2009

 
"Pearls" (c) 2009


"Blink" (c) 2009

I hope you enjoy the sampler!
KW

Friday, April 24, 2009

Expired Polaroid Transfers

Two Polaroid transfers I made in class the other day. From slides given to me by my grandparents.

George Washington Bridge - slide to transfer


The Statue of Liberty - slide to transfer.

Both transfer made with polaroid peel apart pack film that is assumed to be expired. My professor looked at it and made a "this is expired but we'll see happens" noise.

It feels good to update. Sorry for the wait.
KW

Monday, September 8, 2008

Home Again, Home Again..

I'm trying to get back into Polaroids. I want to take more photographs this semester. I'm trying to get an internship for next summer.

Here's an old image:

Monday, May 5, 2008

3-Dimensional Design Final


This is a photograph of what is supposed to be a "body sculpture".  Originally it was supposed to have a ritual attached to it, why it exists, what it is used for...but I think now that it's crossed over through development into more of an "other" category. In the literary sense, that this sculpture that I have to wear represents my "other" in despair. Kind of demure and maybe even juvenile.. but very much how I feel about recent events in my life.

The sculpture is confining and limiting, it keeps you blind...blah blah blah.


Monday, April 7, 2008

Another picture to match the first one, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I like how long this shot feels, and the real busyness it conveys.
I hope you feel the same?

Friday, April 4, 2008

that's the news..


I'm having an art show tonight in Downtown Albany.

295 State Street