Art and the sublime : the paradox of indeterminacy unknowing and (dis)orientation in the presentation of the unpresentable

the (dis)orientation of thought in its encounter with art can be understood as the direct result of an encounter with indeterminacy as a lack in meaning. As an artist I am aware of how this indeterminacy impacts on the perceived value and authority of the artistic voice and in particular its value as a research voice. This paper explores this indeterminacy of meaning, as a profound and disturbing unknowing characteristic of the sublime and argues its value to advanced thought and for any methodological understanding of practice-led research. Lyotard described the sublime as an ‘understanding’ through which art and its associated practices may be able to resist an all too easy assimilation by the public as just a consumer commodity. His thought represents an attempt to both politically and philosophically understand art’s, and particularly abstract painting’s, affect as a state of profound and positive unknowing. To talk of the sublime in art is to speak of the suspension of any comfortable certainty in being and instead to engage with the real as a limit to meaning and knowing. It is to talk of the presentation of the unpresentable as a momentary but significant dissolution of representation. This understanding of the sublime is then further explored through the cultural phenomena of the monochrome painting and applied to the work of the two contemporary artists, Franz Erhard Walter and Günter Umberg. Initially the monochrome was understood as an attempt to go beyond traditional representation and present the unpresentable. In the one hundred years or so since that initial move this understanding has broadened. The monochrome now presents itself as a genre or even project within visual art but it still has much to teach us. In the concretely abstract and performative artworks of Franz Erhard Walter and Günter Umberg, traces of this ambition remain and their work can be seen to pose questions probing our understandings and experiences of artistic meaning, its value and the real.

Transcending the inanimate : evoking the sublime in puppet-based performance

This study investigated how contemporary puppet-based theatre can create deeply imaginative experiences for adult audiences. Designed to interrogate the potential effects of double-vision (Tillis, 1992), the theories of the sublime (Kant, 2008; 2003) and the uncanny (Jentsch, 1906; Freud, 1919) were used to create a series of creative guidelines. As practice-led research, the project embraced an iterative approach consisting of two cycles for creative experimentation, and a third for the creation of the final performance work The Harbinger, presented as a part of La Boite Theatre Company’s mainstage season. A theoretical investigation was also conducted to inform the developing practice.

The sublime, affective process + architectural production

A year before Kate Nesbitt’s Theorising a New Agenda For Architecture (1996), the author penned a chapter on the significance of the sublime and its contribution to post-modern architecture via the uncanny or disturbing through the theories of Vidler and Eisenman (Nesbit, 1995). Twenty years on, we see its ongoing presence within the contemporary works of artists Kapoor, Ellison and Viola. Eisenmann and Libeskind aside, explicit reference to the Sublime whether through architectural praxis or theory appears to have been trumped by ecological derivatives and associated transactions, as catalyst for new architecture and architectural thinking. For Edmund Burke (1757), the Sublime was seen as a leading, an overpowering of self to a state of intense self-presence, often leading to a state of otherness. To experience the sublime is to experience affect, physiologically overwhelming the mental faculties through intensities of astonishment, terror, obscurity, magnificence, and reverence. Key here is Burke’s articulation of the stages of the sublime encounter, particularly so, its implications for the process of production which architectural theorists appear to have overstepped in their valorisation of the sublime object. This paper seeks to resituate the sublime within the context of architectural production. Through concepts such as material thinking, bodies and making strange, the paper explores a shift in focus toward affective processes traced from Burke’s inquiry. Rather than proposing strategies solely for affect within the work itself, the focus lies upon the designing experience, where blockage and desirous forces are critical partners in the process of production, as revealed through recent studio programs entitled Strange Space.

Best after rain : waterfall discharges and the tourist experience

Waterfalls attract tourists because they are aesthetically appealing landscape features that are not part of everyday experience. It is generally understood that falls are usually seen at their best when there is a copious flow of water, especially after heavy rain. Guidebooks often contain this observation when referring to waterfalls, sometimes warning readers that the flow may be severely reduced during dry periods. Indeed, many visitors are disappointed when they see falls at such times. Some are saddened when the discharge of a waterfall has been depleted by the abstraction of water upstream for power generation or other purposes. While, for those in search of the Sublime or merely the superlative, size is often important, small waterfalls can give great pleasure to lovers of landscape beauty. According to guidebooks, however, even these falls are usually best seen after rain. Drawing on tourist and travel literature and personal journals from the eighteenth century to the present, and with reference to examples from different parts of the world, this paper discusses the importance of discharge in the tourist experience of waterfalls.

The experience of waterfalls

Landscape beauty has long been a concern of geographers and other scholars, but relatively little work has been done on the aesthetic analysis of specific landscape features such as mountain peaks and waterfalls. In Australia, as in many other parts of the world, waterfalls are popular scenic attractions, and this paper attempts to explain the widespread appeal of these landforms by examining them in the light of theories of landscape aesthetics, from the Picturesque and Sublime to arousal and prospect-refuge. While no single theory offers a complete explanation of our experience of waterfalls, this paper suggests that by using several theoretical approaches to the subject we are more likely to gain a full understanding of the way we respond to these landscape features.

Abstraction as noise : enhancing the poetic

Abstraction in its resistance to evident meaning has the capacity to interrupt or at least provide tools with which to question an overly compliant reception of the information to which we are subject. It does so by highlighting a latency or potentiality inherent in materiality that points to the possibility of a critical resistance to this ceaseless flow of sound/image/data. This resistance has been remarked on in differing ways by a number of commentators such as Lyotard, in his exploration of the avant-garde and the sublime for example. This joint paper will initially map the collaborative project by Daniel Mafe and Andrew Brown, Affecting Interference which conjoins painting with digital sound and animations into a single, large scale, immersive exhibition/installation. The work acts as an interstitial point between contrasting approaches to abstraction: the visual and aural, the digital and analogue. The paper will then explore the ramifications of this through the examination of abstraction as ‘noise’, that is as that raw inassimilable materiality, within which lays the creative possibility to forge and embrace the as-yet-unthought and almost-forgotten. It does so by establishing a space for a more poetic and slower paced critical engagement for the viewing and receiving information or data. This slowing of perception through the suspension of easy recognition runs counter to our current ‘high performance’ culture, and it’s requisite demand for speedy assimilation of content, representing instead the poetic encounter with a potentiality or latency inherent in the nameless particularity of that which is.

The Science and Art of Light

Architecture today often is praised for its tectonics, floating volumes, and sensational, gravity-defying stunts of “starchitecture.” Yet, very so often there is a building that inspires descriptions of the sublime, the experiential, and the power of light and architecture to transcend our expectations. The new Meinel Optical Sciences Research Building, designed by Phoenix-based Richärd+Bauer for the University of Arizona, Tucson, is one of these architectural rarities. Already drawing comparisons to Louis Kahn's 1965 Salk Institute for Biological Studies in La Jolla, California, the indescribable quality of light that characterizes the best of Kahn's work also resonates in Richärd+Bauer's new building. Both an expansion and renovation of the existing College of Optical Sciences facilities, the Meinel building includes teaching and research laboratories, six floors of offices, discussion areas, conference rooms, and an auditorium. The new 47,000 square-foot cast-in-place concrete structure, wrapped on three-sides in copper-alloy panels, harmonizes with the largely brick vocabulary of the campus while reflecting the ethereal quality of the wide Arizona sky. The façade, however, is merely a prelude for what awaits inside—where light and architecture seamlessly combine to create moments of pure awe.

Velum

Velum continues material experimentation with edible materials as explored within Formations: New Practices in Australian Architecture 2012. 1 The work employs the central theme of veiling as a ‘second skin’, an intermediary agent simultaneously engaging with Heideggerian themes of ‘nearness and revealing’ (1927, 1954). This second skin creates a liminality distorting everyday objects of popular culture and technological consumption. In doing so, the work puts forth multiple considerations, the figurative play upon consumption itself; the role of the strange and obscure to affect a deepening awareness of our accelerated consumption and experience; and more tangentially, questions surrounding imminent scenarios of hybridity between body and technology. Velum represents a recent focus of the authors’ creative practice, ‘Making Strange’ (Strange Making) published and presented elsewhere. Making Strange explores the sublime process, fundamental to both the final design outcome and the designing experience. The sublime process is seen as a leading, a physiological overpowering of self to a state of intense self-presence, often leading to self-transcendence or state of otherness. As such, the work engages with the body and materials, experimentally and in a trans-disciplinary manner to inform new material practice.

Liberty

In terms of critical discourse, Liberty contributes to the ongoing aesthetic debate on ‘the sublime.’ Philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) defined the sublime as a failure of rationality in response to sensory overload: a state where the imagination is suspended, without definitive reference points—a state beyond unequivocal ‘knowing.’ I believe the events of September 11, 2001 eluded our understanding in much the same way, leaving us in a moment of suspension between awe and horror. It was an event that couldn’t be understood in terms of scope or scale. It was a moment of overload, which is so difficult to capture in art. With my work I attempt to rekindle that moment of suspension. Like the events of 9/11, Liberty defies definition. Its form is constantly changing; it is always presenting us with new layers of meaning. Nobody quite had a handle on the events that followed 9/11, because the implications were constantly shifting. In the same way, Liberty cannot be contained or defined at any moment in time. Like the events of 9/11, the full story cannot be told in a snapshot. One of the dictionary definitions for the word ‘sublime’ is the conversion of ‘a solid substance directly into a gas, without there being an intermediate liquid phase’. With this in mind, I would like to present Liberty as a work that is literally ‘sublime.’ But what’s really interesting to me about Liberty is that it presents the sublime on all levels: in its medium, in its subject matter (that moment of suspension), and in its formal (formless) presentation. On every level Liberty is sublime—subverting all tangible reference points and eluding capture entirely. Liberty is based on the Statue of Liberty in New York. However, unlike that statue which has stood in New York since 1886 and can be reasonably expected to stand for millennia, this work takes on diminishing proportions, carved as it is in carbon dioxide, a mysterious, previously unexplored medium—one which smokes, snows and dramatically vanishes into a harmless gas. Like the material this work is carved from, the civil liberties of the free world are diminishing fast, since 9/11 and before. This was my thought when I first conceived this work. Now it’s become evident that Liberty expresses a lot more than just this: it demonstrates the erosion of civil liberties, yes. However, it also presents the intangible, indefinable moments in the days and months that followed 9/11. The sculptural work will last for only a short time, and thereafter will exist only in documentation. During this time, the form is continually changing and self-refining, until it disappears entirely, to be inhaled, metabolised and literally taken to heart by viewers.

Sublime acts : desire in the studio

Acknowledging the recent call to review design creativity and consideration of the body's affective states in education, this paper explores how desire, conceptualized as an immanent force (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987) and an irresistible force (Burke, 1753) can be a means of deeper engagement within the design studio. Positing 'disruption or blockage' as a key agent which propels subjects from fields of normalcy to fields of otherness, and subsequently mobilises distinct modes of desire, this paper takes Edmund Burke's Romantic sublime and Patricia Yaeger's feminine sublime as critical lenses through which to review a first year interior program posited around the body. The paper highlights how the embodiment of 'desirous processes' within the design program and relational encounters within the studio represent an overarching pedagogical 'hinge' (Ellsworth, 2005). Rather than being a point of beginning, the start of first year is seen and experienced as a threshold opening to a new rhythm in a proces of becoming that is already underway.

Rephrasing voice : art, practice-led research and the limits and sites of articulacy

While my PhD is practice-led research, it is my contention that such an inquiry cannot develop as long as it tries to emulate other models of research. I assert that practice-led research needs to account for an epistemological unknown or uncertainty central to the practice of art. By focusing on what I call the artist's 'voice,' I will show how this 'voice' is comprised of a dual motivation—'articulate' representation and 'inarticulate' affect—which do not even necessarily derive from the artist. Through an analysis of art-historical precedents, critical literature (the work of Jean-François Lyotard and Andrew Benjamin, the critical methods of philosophy, phenomenology and psychoanalysis) as well as of my own painting and digital arts practice, I aim to demonstrate how this unknown or uncertain aspect of artistic inquiry can be mapped. It is my contention that practice-led research needs to address and account for this dualistic 'voice' in order to more comprehensively articulate its unique contribution to research culture.

Rates of change : online distribution as disruptive technology in the film industry

Much debate in media and communication studies is based on exaggerated opposition between the digital sublime and the digital abject: overly enthusiastic optimism versus determined pessimism over the potential of new technologies. This inhibits the discipline's claims to provide rigorous insight into industry and social change which is, after all, continuous. Instead of having to decide one way or the other, we need to ask how we study the process of change.This article examines the impact of online distribution in the film industry, particularly addressing the question of rates of change. Are there genuinely new players disrupting the established oligopoly, and if so with what effect? Is there evidence of disruption to, and innovation in, business models? Has cultural change been forced on the incumbents? Outside mainstream Hollywood, where are the new opportunities and the new players? What is the situation in Australia?

Was By The Northern Coast

‘Was by the Northern Coast’ was an installation at MetroArts in Brisbane. A pile of warped timber, evocative of a dismantled boat, sits in the middle of the gallery space on a bed of carefully-laid bands of polyester insulation and pine battening. From within the wood stack, the sound of dripping water indicates the flow of water created by a silent internal pump. The sound of water intermingles with a soft soundtrack of Kulning, an archaic form of Scandinavian song. In ‘Was by the Northern Coast’, the detritus of timber mimics the Romantic sublime of the mountain peak and nautical wreckage while the snowy drifts of the Northern European landscape become mistranslated as a field of artificial ceiling insulation. In employing such slippages, the work attempted to create the imaginative landscape of an aesthetic displaced by distance and time.

The book of revelations

"Nihilistic act embraces doomsday The Age – December 2012 By Rebecca Harkins-Cross For The Book of Revelations A WOMAN stumbles backwards through the audience, burdened by an overflowing backpack, muttering about the home she’s left behind. When she reaches the mountain onstage, she looks upon its cloud-swirled peak with awe. This stillness is ruptured by an involuntary outburst as she begins spitting out the scourges of the modern world – “nuclear explosion… war… car salesman”, she yells. This is the final show in La Mama’s explorations season, which allows performers to stage works still in development. Devised and performed by theatre maker and academic Alison Richards, it questions our eschatological paranoia that the end times are upon us. It is fitting then that it is premiered on the eve of the Mayan’s prophesised doomsday. Like many pilgrims before her, Ada (Richards) ascends the mountain in search of salvation, but her journey evokes sublime terror; she speaks in tongues, collapses into fitful sleeps. Richards combines operatic singing with an ethereal score by Faye Bendrups, her eruptions into song apparently brought on by the mountain’s ecstatic pull. Richards’ seraphic voice is haunting, the lyrics evoking visions of birth and death. But when Ada finally converses with the heavens, she does not receive the revelations she hopes for: the voice of the divine is nihilistic, urging her to accept the universe’s chaos. While the work is still fragmentary, unfolding like a dream, this is a powerful performance by Richards. Its striking imagery fails to cohere yet in narrative terms, but it is promising nonetheless."