Sunday, December 27, 2009
Frame 5: Who wants to be normal anyway?
Here are some examples:
His paintings remind me of the more independent animation style, such as this Japanese one:
The anti-gravitational and ambiguous setting combined with dynamic compositions truly prevail these works. Also the way art is created in a art for art's sake way or animation for animation's sake - not necessarily symbolic of anything. I hope to create something as groundbreaking one day!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Frame 4: Breaking the mold
This masterpiece is the epitome of ideal beauty. Mary, looking gorgeous, seems as old as Jesus even though she's supposed to be his aging mother. There is an overall monumentality to this peice even though in reality it's quite small. Michelangelo enlarged her lap and scaled down Jesus to give it a nice balance, improving it from previous Pieta attempts.
Largely due to Michelangelo, sculpture also moved towards Mannerism, as seen with his later Pietas.
Everything is a bit off-balance, rougher, less ideal figures. As you can see, Jesus' body seems to be elongated and his legs malnourished. The subject matter is also less clear - who is the top figure? It's possibly Nicodemus or Michelangelo himself. For the most part, these two sculptures are to be viewed from the front exclusively. Later in the 2nd phase of mannerism called maniera, this began to change.
Giambologna, named the 2nd Michelangelo, was a star sculptor in Florence. The Rape of the Sabine Woman is a prime example of his work.
As you can see, this is a big step from the High Renaissance and very pre-Baroque. The serpentine composition with the many twisting nude figures shows his tremendous skill and desire to one up Michelangelo. Also, this sculpture is meant to be seen in all angles and sides. Their faces show great emotion making viewers feel that they are part of the frozen moment. Additionally, as with most mannerism peices, a tribute to art for art's sake is seen. All the male nudes with the "squeezed buttock effect", as my teacher describes it. The subject matter is more dramatic and serious but sculpted with such beauty.
Lastly, we enter the Baroque era where Bernini dominates with his graceful sculptures, mainly in Rome. Here's his version of the David, in response to Michelangelo's:
Especially with these three snapshots, it's almost like he's moving. Imagine walking around it, it seems like you're taken through his swing, frame by frame. Even though David looks strong, there's a weighless feeling in Bernini's technique, as with his other masterpeices - Pluto and Persephone and Apollo and Daphne. It's as though his sculptures are not made of marble or stone. When you see this sculpture, you're immediately response would be to duck otherwise you'll be hit by his sling. In baroque art, frozen moments are extremely real and in-action, less balanced, figures facial features are less ideal, more characterized - much like animation. Here, Bernini put a self-portrait, lip pursed. He pushed sculpture to the limits, transcending it's medium.
It's no wonder sculpture usually accompanies a character animator's cubicle!
Frame 3: Here, you don't need 3D Glasses
Being carried along the ruthless and endless current of Vatican crowds towards the Sistine Chapel, I was excited to see Raphael’s rooms-- the School of Athens fresco in particular.
Entering the chaotic tourist space of Stanza della Segnatura, I immediately faced the wall I was there to admire and did a 360 degree turn, looking all directions. Appreciating all four walls and the ceiling simultaneously, it all finally made sense to me. Raphael proved he was more than a synthesizer of the different renaissance styles, with the frescoes in Stanza della Segnatura, he transcended 3D structural space by providing viewers with a full body virtual reality experience.
Raphael delivered strongly using his “powers of invention” to challenge viewers physically, mentally and even spiritually. Never before had the idea of philosophy been depicted as dynamically, with a multitude of figures in a lively environment, each true to their element, doing what they do best. The fresco was notably innovative because it combined a great number of figures, a total of fifty-eight in the School alone, with identifiable figures, especially back then in Raphael’s era making the viewer a contestant of a guessing game. He included portraits of his contemporaries and men equivalent to modern day celebrities, some could have seen his painting at the time, such as the later added portrait of Michelangelo as Heraclitus, Bramante as Euclid , or Sodoma, painting partner for the Stanza’s ceiling, next to his own . This is where we begin to see his ability to create a virtual reality.
According to Oxford American Dictionaries, “Virtual reality” can be defined as “a computer-generated simulation of a 3D environment that can be interacted with in a seemingly real way by a person using the equipment”. In other words, the elements in the virtual realm work together to create a convincing environment in a fun way. Raphael did this very thing with the Stanza except without computers, instead, paintbrush-generated, which is more limiting and impressive. Because current people at the time were included on his frescoes, there’s an immediacy of the figures, as though you are part of the painting yourself or even that the paintings are brought to life out of the walls amongst you. Additionally, it’s one thing to have static familiar figures, but the extremely spirited composition makes one feel they’ve stepped outside onto a bustling, sunny university campus. Raphael used his graceful brushwork, balanced and harmonious technique to give these figures life as “characters in a ‘story’”, endowing them many gestures, poses, facial expressions to bring out their reciprocal relationships. Observing these relationships gives the viewer an emotional connection as well, just as one gets attached to characters in a narrative animation.
Animation, especially in the digital age, has aimed to do achieve this feeling. Characters interact with various relationships, camera angles are complex, environments are vast, moral story is applicable - all to draw you into the film. Seeing animations in 3D now make it seem as though you're there even further. As Raphael proves, one can trace this experience back to the renaissance.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Frame 2: Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff
I will soon get to witness the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. As overwhelmed as I’ll be with Michelangelo’s feat, what will stand out the most for me is the way he brings everything to life – animation’s exact definition. Even looking at powerpoint slides of the different panels, it’s easy to see the various expressions, positions and sheer monumentality of every story depicted. For instance, in the Creation of Adam: God, accompanied by wingless angels and Eve under his arm, flies towards Adam who is looking lovingly at his creator. God has his finger extended to give Adam life and to establish a connection between man and God. Adam represents divine perfection which Michelangelo depicted spot on -- I gaped immediately at how beautiful this man is. It's true.
Working down the ceiling, it’s evident Michelangelo’s style began to evolve. The first panel he did was Noah’s Ark, which included the most details, the smallest figures and was much more technical than his later, much more freely painted panels with larger figures. In this painting, his experience in sculpture is seen cause the figures are grouped as such; he also stresses human drama more than movement. In later panels like Creation of Sun, Moon, Plants, there’s less detail but a lot more motion. This one almost resembles two separate frames of an animation where God is creating and then flying away later. Just like in the Expulsion of Adam and Eve, there's a great sense of storytelling because you see the same people at different times.
My favourite is possibly the Separation of Light and Darkness. With more abstract and loose brush strokes, he infuses a certain spirit in God. Anyone who sees this, almost on instinct, will start imagining God twisting his mighty body.
Mannerism, an Italian art movement in the 16th century, was strongly influenced by Michelangelo’s later work especially his incredible use of ‘contra posto’, bright colours and individualism. While looking at Pontormo’s The Deposition of the Cross, the teacher mentioned how in Mannerism, artists were beginning to find their own styles. Instead of replicating or imitating reality, they embrace a more expressive, exaggerated expression of reality -- using much looser, larger strokes and not necessarily being completely technical. I find this more interesting because I love it when an artist takes a “less is more” approach and exhibit a unique style. This idea can be drawn from Michelangelo’s later sculptural works as well. Although he never finished them, he left them ragged and roughly crosshatched with his tooth chisel, incorporating the medium’s texture. Such as the unfinished Captive. I find them much more expressive and full of life this way. Perhaps this is how he intended them.
A sculpture that captivated me which uses this same rough, expressive look is Apennine, Carved by Giambologna from real rock. The jagged texture of the rock was left on the figure working harmoniously to depict his agony.
In traditional animation, like Mannerism, style, a real sense of movement and facial expressions are exaggerated and details aren’t everything. When going frame by frame through great animated action scenes, the minutiae are often left out and the drawings might even look like a jumbled, disproportionate, gooey mess. But our eyes and mind work together to make sense of what’s happening during the short amount of time that passes. Cooooooool....
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Frame 1: We’re in Michelangelo’s city.
Looking at the precision and detail on all these sculptures, it’s mind boggling how a human being can recreate such a high degree of depth, emotion and composition starting with a block of marble. Our teacher described the process of sculpting like taking a bath and draining the water: pretending the pool of water is the marble and we are the figure being carved. The human form slowly revealing itself from the face of the block. As a sculptor, I’d be extremely overwhelmed by how much work lay ahead of me but I guess it’s simplifying the idea in your mind first.
I imagine this process being similar to 3D character modeling in programs like Maya. The character needs to be imagined as a combination of basic 3D shapes, extruded or subtracted until the form is created. In sculpting, it would just be subtracting. Afterwards, the texture is added. Much like when Michelangelo uses his tooth chisel to cross hatch his works in the end to the point of smooth perfection. Also, in an animation studio sculptures of each character are present for the animators to observe for depth. I understand why because it helps knowing how each part looks from every angle and having it tangible in front of you.
We visited the Accademia where Michelangelo’s infamous David (1501-1504) stands. David is from the bible story David and Goliath where he defeats Goliath being a young unarmored boy with merely a slingshot and bold faith. Michelangelo created David from a 17 foot block of marble that had been attempted by a few other skilled sculptors but they failed. One look at this massive piece made me lightheaded. I particularly enjoyed his facial expression: TERRIBILITÀ, a trademark of Michelangelo. He was a troubled artist and it was a feeling he was very familiar with so he knew how to execute it flawlessly. I love how he puts himself in his work. In a way, to make a powerful piece of art, you need to become the art itself. Animators do this, understanding their own movement and then becoming the character they're putting life into. This applies to most forms of creativity, removing oneself from reality and becoming your creation using the imagination. That's the fun of it all.