#005 Gregory Crewdson

When I think of traditional photography, I generally think of capturing the moment before it is gone, of having a camera ready to go at the opportune moment. Watching Gregory Crewdson’s documentary in class on how he puts together his photos provided a whole new level to how I interpret photography as an art. Crewdson constructs his photographs like landscapes; each aspect completely essential to the piece as a whole. By putting together his photographs before he takes them instead of happening upon them or simply capturing a moment as it passes, Crewdson has complete control over ever aspect of the photograph; the photograph becomes less of a snapshot of life and more of a pure comment on, or play with, the idea of life itself.

One of the aspects I found most interesting about Gregory Crewdson’s photography is the fact that he uses minimal to no photoshop after taking his photos. His precision and premeditation, coupled with the intense colors he achieves by lighting when taking his photographs makes Crewdson’s photos almost painting-like. It was interesting to hear his thought process in the documentary we watched in class, “The Aesthetics of Repression,” as it is interesting to hear any artist’s thought process; I think that it would be especially interesting to be a part of his artistic process, particularly if you were to be one of the actors in one of Crewdson’s photos.

What I think is really important in art, and what Crewdson does really well in the specific arrangement of each of his pieces, is to start a conversation with the viewer. In each piece there is tension or some aspect that catches the viewer’s attention and causes question or contemplation. Instead of simply being a statement, Crewdson’s photographs are a part of a conversation, inviting the viewer to engage.

I am for an art

I am for an art that starts a conversation and never finishes it

I am for an art that tilts heads and churns insides

I am for an art that does not try to appease, ever.

I am for an art meant to open doors, then twist them around and change every dimension, then make you question if that was even a door or a window you just came through.

I am for an art engulfed in opinions

I am for an art as propaganda.

I am for an art never meant to be too good for anyone.

I am for an art that stops and goes, frustrates and ignites, pokes and prods and never lets up

I am for an art that comments, states, and rebukes.

I am for an art of growing up, of staying a child, of having children and helping them to grow up.

I am for an art to teach bike riding to those in top hats, and ballroom dancing to those with ripped jeans.

I am for an art of anger and passion; venom in the details.

I am for an art aware of its surroundings, unaware of time, present in community.

I am for an art made for yourself, to share with others.

I am for an art that cries, croons, incorporates, tries to explain, invites you to guess.

I am for an art as invitation.

I am for an art that teaches and learns

I am for an art that breathes; expands and contracts without hesitation.

I am for an art that spins your head around your shoulder blades, paints your toe nails neon orange cooks you escargot after a long day of selflessness.

I am for an art that keeps you up at night.

I am for an art that you cannot keep to yourself, even if you try.

I am for an art with no final punctuation; art that aims to continue an endless critique, an endless conversation.

I am for an art of passion so deep it runs you from midnight to midnight; an inability to keep still from the sheer longing planted in the deepest workings of your bones.

I am for an art that reminds you why you started here in the first place, that gets you to keep on going, to change direction, to rethink and refuel.

I am for an art that challenges.

I am for an art that makes you want to talk about it; that leaves you no other option.

I am for an art of children.

I am for an art that makes sense in the moment, and a different sense later on.

I am for an art of complete indecision, and art of insecurities.

I am for an art as language.

Ideas for Dream Project:

(Dream) I'm eating a sandwich at a counter with two other friends, and my roommate, Samantha comes hurriedly over to tell us all to hurry up. I try to eat the sandwich faster but each time I take a bite and put the sandwich down I look and there is just the same uneaten sandwich, which really stresses me out because I am trying to hurry up for Samantha's sake. Samantha says something like "Vamoos!" and then pauses and looks confused. She asks me if that's what she's meaning to say and I tell her that's she's trying to say "Vamos," like "let's go" in Spanish, but that I wasn't too good at spanish in high school so I don't know if that's the right translation. She's really persistent about it though so suddenly I have my computer (I guess it was sitting there while I was eating) and I tell her I'll look it up, even though I know what she was trying to say. While I'm doing this I'm also trying to eat my sandwich, which won't get any smaller, and I'm really not that hungry, and I'm pretty stressed out by the whole thing. I'm trying to tell Samantha that I can't do both of these things at once and that one of them's got to be more important to her than the other so she'll just have to choose, but before I can figure out how to get these thoughts out to her, I wake up.

(Dream) I had this dream when I was much younger but I still remember it and I think it would work well in combination with the dream I explain after this, which is also one I had (recurringly) when I was younger. I am with my sister and for some reason we are near the outskirts of the woods. They're not particularly dense woods, like they aren't really that scary or anything, but as they get deeper, there are wooden stairs going up this slowly sloping hill. The stairs are very wide and very long, and there are a lot of them, so many that I can hardly see the top. For some reason that really scares me, my sister and I have to run up them as soon as we see them, and all I know is that we can't stop. I am holding my sister's hand, pulling her along in a way behind me, and I know that it would be the absolute worst thing imaginable if I were to let go of her hand. We need to get away from someone who I don't ever see in this dream, but whose shoes I can almost hear finding the bottom of the stairs behind us and all I know is that I have to protect my younger sister, and to do that we have to get up those stairs.

(Dream) I come out of a building, I think a small museum, and onto a small stoop, down two small steps that have black iron railing on each side like in cities, and on to the side walk. In front of me is the street, which isn't particularly busy. I turn to walk in one direction and I see a man, poised with his feet and arms spread, in a position not to let me pass. Immediately I know I can't go that way and that I have to get away, but when I turn to go in the other direction, there's another man in the same position. I run in between them, neither of them touching me or trying to catch me; their purpose is just to let me not pass. I could obviously have gone across the street but for some reason in the dream I can't.

(Methods) For filming whichever dream idea I end up choosing, I don't want to film anything with straight out acting. I want to learn how to do stop motion, animation, illustration, or a combination of all of those things, and put them together to make a surreal, dream-like look to the finished product. I don't have any experience with any of these methods though, so I really need help.