Monday 18 March 2013

The Uffington white horse


I may not have mentioned this but I fan of line executed with brevity. When I first saw an image of the Uffington horse It was one of those good grief, moments, I couldn't quite believe someone had executed a work that resonated so strongly with my personal aesthetic. There's a few other artists who've prompted the same feeling, in comics they would probably be Joe Staton and Mick McMahon. Historical artists I would cite would be Samual Palmer, William Blake, the engravings of Rembrandt and few others too. You may have spotted the influence of the horse with the bunny picture that I use as my calling card. It's doubtful if the horse, as seen today, is the product of pure artifice. Most likely the form of the horse has morphed arbitrarily over generations, although I'm tempted to think that the evolution of its form has been tempered by cognition of beauty. I suppose that's what makes it special as an artefact, its not just a monument to some whim or the product of a soulless bureaucracy, like its flaccid counterparts today. Those gawdawful monsters, towering Molochs that impose their shadow on vistas.  It's something that grew and that's been preserved by those for whom it held some significance.

Thursday 14 March 2013

Doodle files 3

There's quite a famous depiction of The Riddler, I think it's the first time he appeared in print. The drawing could be a character study of Frank Gorshin and might explain why he was cast in the sixties TV series. In the entire history of casting characters from popular fiction was anyone more perfectly cast than Frank Gorshin? The only one who comes comes close is Telly Savalas as Blofeld.

Burgess Meredith does a good job as the Penguin largely because he doesn't push the character too far, I suppose that's a legacy of his acting background. Danny DeVito is an excellent character actor but his Penguin has been monkeyed with to such an extent it's barely recognisable. His physical deformity and disgusting sanitary habits are too an overt depiction of corruption, The Penguin should have a facile veneer of manners and sartorial sophistication afforded by his Morning attire that contrasts with his wickedness.

Wednesday 13 March 2013

Food

Things I miss the simple items, chicken that doesn't taste like cardboard, trotters, jellied eels, the salt beef sandwiches you used to be able to buy for the price of a Mars bar and those battered cod fillets with flakes of fish the size of your thumb. My local chippy favours passing off Alaskan Pollack as cod and most of the punters don't notice. Pretty soon the supermarkets wont stock any cut of beef cheaper than Filet Mignon in their efforts to squeeze cash out of you. Then there's the TV chefs with their wonderful discoveries, now the price of lamb shanks has gone through the roof, at least you can still get them I suppose, which is more than you can say for trotters and hocks. I can't get liver in the town Sainsbury's either so I trekked to the out of town place, something of revelation to mix with the hoi polloi, does anyone still have a job? I wonder how the taxpayer feels about forking out for the overpriced food, wherever he is, way things are going he's going to be feeding me soon. I suppose you could always resort to a ready meal or a burger but feasting on Dobbin doesn't appeal to me. I Wouldn't mind a rabbit though but taking the air rifle down the common will get you arrested and interned as a terrorist these days, what a dump this place has become. Dad wasn't English by the way, he was a Catholic unionist who bolted his homeland in disgust. Didn't like English people much had a strong streak of Anglophobia -- and anti-Semitism that he picked up from the rag trade. That profession would have made him a stereotype I suppose, Irish taylor, except for his colourful ethnic background, god know where the Tojo in him came from but in his youthful passport photo he was the image of Hirohito, complete with wing collar and rimmed specs. I remember the first time I put on a pair of spec frames, the sight of the ghost in the mirror left me sleepless for three days. He used to pine for the food he knew in his youth too, only for him it was bread the colour of soot and pease pudding that smelled like a sailor's jock strap.

Tuesday 12 March 2013

Mullet, Mosquitoes, Mines

Mullet, mosquitoes and mines, three thing that abound in the Falkland Islands that offer an opportunity to use a bit of alteration. It seems the government has finally pulled its finger out of a certain orifice and decided to commit itself to the future of this underexploited asset. The decision has been prompted by the prospect of gas and oil extraction of course. Which if developed wisely will see the islanders wealthy and the revenue used to develop the prolific agricultural resources of the islands. That's not going to happen of course because we've been here before haven't we? Ooh 1970 something was when the bounty from the North sea started to come ashore and what exactly happened to it -- er nothing much, I remember a trip to Norfolk during the 80's, you could see gas rigs from the shore and the detritus they produced littered the beaches, it was the only time I'd actually seen the proverbial used hypodermic. Strangely enough Norfolk is also blessed with those items listed above, yes even mines, the signs saying, "Beware of Adders and unexploded shells" are still up on some of the beaches.

Sunday 10 March 2013

Hens

Here they are, more trouble than they're worth at the moment. There used to be three of them but last autumn around the time of the moult they got a bit sick. Vet said it was probably something they ate, could've been toadlets, maybe fungus or even rain water I suppose but one of 'em didn't make it. Unfortunately she was top bird and they've been a bit lost without her, they've become timid to such extent that they're becoming difficult, doesn't stop them from escaping to next door though. Realistically it's way past Paxo time for them, the eggs have dried up over the winter and they haven't got back to the feed properly yet, even though it's already March.




One interesting thing about observing animals is that you learn just how similar they are to people. Chickens are smarter than you think but they act dumb because stupid is contagious, so any group of them will only display the same level of intelligence as the least intelligent amongst them, see, just like people. I took this snap just as they were coming out of the moult, you can still see the quills sprouting on the neck of the one in foreground. Unfortunately it's not a great snap but I wanted something while their feathers were in nice condition although now top bird, who used to chase me round the garden, has gone perhaps they'll hang on to more of their plumage for longer.

Friday 8 March 2013

Pigeons in flight

Yeah, it's poetry time again, this is just a draft, needs a bit of work I reckon: I quite like the idea of rhyming with 'lungs' in a poem lol.

peroxide flaxen plumes iridescent in morning light 14
nature formed your curves to ease saw sight  9 -10
iron forged with lust, tempered with tender tongues
gasped coos and calls to rasp the lungs
the serpent we choke drown and dowse
till timid mouse treads the boards of satis house
your fetters coiled in this sublime suffusion 
wont save my soul from disillusion
my prayer whispered so that I might
stem your tears, assuage your flight

Update:
I've revisited this draft a few times but I kept blanking on it, today, 5th November 2013, I worked up a little more perseverance and came up with something I'm reasonably happy with. I really liked the suffusion/disillusion rhyme but those lines in the draft are so cringmaking that they made laugh when I wrote them. The amended lines work a bit better here, that particular rhyme helps to halt the pace of the single syllable endings above it. I'd still quite like to extend the antipen though, it's just that it's giving me a bit of trouble.


Pigeons in flight

Peroxide flaxen plumes iridescent in morning light
Nature formed her curves to ease saw sight
Iron forged with lust, tempered with a tender tongue
Cries, gasps, voiced so fierce they rasp the lung
In a tepid pool this urging they will not dowse
It's scolding waters passions need to rouse
In unity of purpose reptilian minds are bound
As they run the race to crest the sacred mound
A myriad of toil and vigour spent
No labour too arduous to vent...


Her fetters -- clinging amid the humid coil of our suffusion
Cant save this soul from disillusion
My prayer whispered so that I might
Stem your tears, assuage your flight
A whispered prayer so that I 

Monday 4 March 2013

The doodle files 2

A couple of those desk top doodles again, together with two I actually bothered to put on real paper.

John Malkovich as Julian Karswell

Things going a little Manga

I found the original Naughty Boy Island pencil rough

After deciding my NBI rough (see above) was too prosaic I sat down an tried to draw inspiration from the classic English comic illustrators with rather appalling results as you can see.

Sunday 3 March 2013

A tiny piece of history.

I've just found this, the first drawing, I'd coloured with Photoshop, ooh ages ago. I'd been working producing 2d computer graphics for a  for a while, mostly kinda flashy backgrounds and fancy do das for early versions of AV software produced with things like Macromedia. Those were mostly done in software but in a spare moment I decided to exercise my traditional drawing skills and see if I could colour something up. Thinking about it, this was probably a doodle, it' wasn't inked or anything just drawn in pencil and scanned. It's not particularly impressive, it kinda breaks the colour rule about reversing the heat of the hue in the shadows. You know, the one that goes: warm highlights/cool shadows or cool highlights/warm shadows, but it was done very quickly and I quite liked that aspect. Oh yeah, the subject happens to be a naked lady, it was probably spring, that's my excuse anyway.


Friday 1 March 2013

The best film ever made

Citizen Kane, it's almost certainly not the best film ever made, yet it consistently appears at the top in best film polls, most notably the Sight and Sound critic and film professional poll. Don't get me wrong it's a pretty good film, just nowhere near best, probably not even in the top 20%, let's face it, it's not even Orson Welles's best film. So why does it garner such a conspicuous level of constant admiration? Well, I'm going to suggest that, it's largely a case of the emperors new cloths, in that the weight of opinion in favour of the film has too strong an authority, too great a provenance, for a lot of people to run the risk of appearing naive by stating the obvious, that is: it's a bit pointless. Pretty harsh appraisal of the film I know but it succinctly sums up the films weakness. In case you didn't already know, Citizen Kane is a thinly disguised character assassination of William Randolf Hurst, the one time media magnate and progenitor of the phenomenon known as yellow journalism. As such. when it was made, it quite an audacious project, Hurst had far more influence and had a longer reach than any contemporary media mogul. That's essentially the problem with the film though, it's relevance as a commentary is too specific to the era it was made and has little relevance in a general context, in other words, it'd dated and -- a bit pointless. This doesn't mean that I don't appreciate Welles as a talent, I pretty sure he was an extraordinary dramatist, maybe his talents were exercised too far in the direction of self promotion but hey that's better than starving in obscurity.

So what is the best ever film? There isn't a best ever of course, and such is true in every field of human endeavour. If there was such a thing, it would probably be obscure and eclectic, something you'd never see, like a drama concerning the story of a blind zither virtuoso who earned his living playing at drive in weddings in Las Vegas. So is it all down to a matter of personal taste, you know, some people like Transformers, others like The Color Purple? Well that's not really true either, like it or not, we're influenced by our peers on a more fundamental level than most of us probably realize. Most of us probably have had the odd occasion when we've enjoyed a film, book or TV show but felt a certain reticence in expressing our appreciation in certain contexts. Say you went to see Cats and had a great time, you wouldn't neccessarily relay that experience to the Millwall supporters that inhabit your local would you. Or maybe you particularly enjoyed Rambo - First Blood 2, the boys at the poetry reading circle may not be that impressed with your enthusiasm for such. Well such social pressure can and does influence your actual appreciation as well as your willingness to express it and it's easily provable, although a lot people, especially those with an exaggerated view of their independence of thought, will continue to deny it. It's one of a group of phenomenon that influence your appreciation and critical faculty in many ways, some subtle other not so, that I call barriers.

I've mentioned barriers before but lets re-iterate my definition: barriers are essentially attitudes that you bring to any experience, in this context, those experiences concern the appreciation of artistic expression but you could equally apply the concept to other experiences. For example, you probably wouldn't  ride a roller coaster named, Sudden Death Cascade, if you suffered a chronic fear of heights. Such phobias can present a strong barrier to artistic appreciation. I do recall one instance when a cinema goer had to be convinced to stay seated and not walk out during a showing of The Living Daylights. The sight of TImothy Dalton's stunt man hanging out the back of an aeroplane and flapping around hanging by a seemingly tenuous thread was too much for him. In this context though, barriers tend to be related more to socially acquired attitudes. Barriers can be manifested by all sorts of attitudes, they can be related to religion or similar ideologies, personal preferences, social or cultural stigma, politics anything really that can encourage you into preconception. To illustrate lets examine, Triumph of the Will a notorious film directed by Leni Riefenstahl, for those who don't know it, it's a German film documenting the 1934 Nazi party congress in Nuremberg. The first part of the film is the most interesting from a cinematic and historical perspective, the later part although quite innovative in technique, is just too mind numbingly tedious for any one who isn't dedicated national socialist to watch in one sitting. On the occasions I've watched this film, the cinematography has impressed me but I'm always prompted into sadness by the knowledge that many of the happy faces, the children waving their hankies and their ecstatic mothers will suffer a terrible fate along with the many unseen faces in the coming catastrophe. You see, I'm bringing a context to the film, my acquired knowledge of subsequent events. Now imagine how much more acute that reaction would be if I were someone who'd lived through that era, lost relatives, loved ones, neighbours or friends in the conflict. Somehow I can't see such a person, appreciating the subtle juxtaposition brought about through  editing or the framing of certain shots.

Perceptual filters, now these are really interesting, they're related to barriers in that they're most often realised through socially acquired means, the very same ones that barriers are so often manifested through. In fact there is some overlap between barriers and perceptual filters and the two concepts are separate but not explicitly delineated. The key difference between the two is that a perceptual filter will alter how you interpret and perceive an experience so that you will perceive thing in a distorted manner. That is, have an exaggerated perception of certain aspects of a work or perceive aspects that don't actually exist within the actual work at all. This can be manifested as simple misinterpretation, the obvious example is that someone who watches The Dambusters may perceive that the name of the dog represents certain attitudes expressed in the film. The surprising thing is that perceptual filters are not limited to misinterpretation, in fact they're most often manifested as complete fabrications, that is people see and hear things, or rather recall such when prompted, that don't happen. A good example of this was demonstrated with, Planet of Perils the first episode in the 1934 Flash Gordon Serial. When asked to comment on the portrayal of Dale Arden, the female lead character, it's common for commentators to stress her passive role within the drama and her dependence on the male lead character, Flash Gordon to continually extradite her from peril prompted by her continual cries of "Oh Flash". This perception is consistent with contemporary attitudes towards gender types in popular action orientated drama from that era. However it is somewhat at odds with the on screen reality and indeed the social reality of that era. In fact the Dale Arden character is never placed in serious peril in this episode, quite the contrary, the Flash Gordon character is the one facing danger and it is Arden who offers him moral support. The two instance where Arden does cry out are prompted by concern for her male compatriot and not by stereotypical hysteria, this discrepancy is best summarized by the perceptual filter concept. One thing that distinguishes perceptual filters is that we're not universally vulnerable to them on nearly like the same scale as we are barriers, virtually everyone has barriers but you have to be slightly wrong in the head to be persistently subject to perceptual filters, that's not to say that were not all a little weak minded on occasion or that there aren't a lot of people soft in the head most of the time either.

There you go, those are some of the reasons why the label, the best film ever made, is something you shouldn't take too seriously, On the other the hand, Conan The Barbarian, directed by John Millius, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, is, the best film ever made.