Essay: Concept of the Post-Human in Modern Art

Hey guys, I wanted to let you know that I wasn't dead, but I don't have quite enough time to write up a full post at the moment. Please know that I'm warming up to continue the saga of pursuing Full-Time Ministry.

In the meantime, have an essay I wrote last year on the concept of the post-human in modern art.

Hopefully it still makes sense. This was one I wrote on not much sleep, and in one go. Hmm. Enjoy.

AART 3105: Contemporary Issues in Art

What is the ‘post-human’ and how is it expressed in art? Discuss using the work of at least 3 contemporary artists, showing the social, political and philosophical implications of each artist’s work.

From the literal definition of post-human, it is understood that the subject refers to a state beyond that of the regular or presently-defined human. The manner in which this ‘post-‘may yet to be defined, but there is certainly the connotations of a modification or addendum to the understood human.

This essay will discuss the works of artists Lee Bul, Phillip Toledano and Eduardo Kac, and their comments through their art practise on the role of the human and the post-human. Centering on the inherent value of the human, this essay will discuss the ramifications of blending with technology, enhancing through science and the required response to these actions.

The concept of a cyborg is one familiar to the general populace, mostly through science-fiction and speculative fiction. It is a frequently recurring character, and for a variety of reasons. The seamless blend of machine and man grants the character a new set of abilities and life goals, albeit with a very different set of problems and rules in conjunction to those of a human character. The cyborg in fiction becomes a projection of the self with a different set of rules to live and behave by. Are they human? Are they something else? At which point does the presence or absence of human tissue in the cyborg pronounce them human or android?

Lee Bul, a mixed-media artist from South Korea, creates works that investigate this blending of organic and artificial with surgical precision. Working in industrial materials such as silicone or resin, the artworks tend to explore the polarised concepts of cyborg and monster, dwelling on the results of blending opposing ends of the spectrum between the perfect and the imperfect.

Immaculately finished, with exaggerated proportions reminiscent of typified Japanese anime characters, Bul’s forms hang in suspension. Bearing the appearance of the human form, and yet lacking heads and limbs, their incomplete appearance quietly comments on the role of the human in this technically-augmented realm, and whether there would be a place for the human in this new environment. Perhaps more important though, is the query offered by the artist on the right of mankind to engage in the act of augmenting what is already in existence.[1]

Figure 1. Lee Bul, Cyborg W6 (2001). Hand-cut polyurethane panels on fibreglass reinforced plastic, polyurethene coating. 232 x 67 x 67 cm

If the opportunity is made for the cyborg to exist in the real world, to the degree that is understood in the realms of fiction, then Bul has made it a point in her work to understand the relationship that current humans would have with this post-human. She says,

“I’m always concerned with ideas about the extension of the human body, substitution of the human body, transcending the flesh, and the desire for immortality,”[2]

Her works always appear as incomplete forms, hinting towards the inability of the human to create a whole and perfect replica of itself[3]. Her interest in the blurred line between the human and the mechanical is echoed in fiction, and is a keystone theme in many cyberpunk stories. An appropriate example would be the character of Motoko Kusanagi from the landmark manga series Ghost in the Shell (figure 2 below), and its adapted film released in 1995 under the same name.

Figure 2. Ghost in the Shell theatrical movie poster. Produced by Bandai, Directed by Oshii Mamoru. Original Story by Shirow Masamune.

Kusanagi’s role in the storyline is that of a Major in a top secret task force, but the personal demons driving her through the series relate directly to the definition of the human within the cyborg. Only possessing a small amount of brain tissue, with the rest of her body comprised of state-of-the-art technology, it is this character who is constantly wrestling with the questions, “Am I human? What proof exists that I am not a computer program designed to think it was human?”

Fiction reflects the thoughts of the day, and the relatory points between the cyberpunk anime story told by Shirow Masamune (The creator of aforementioned series) and Lee Bul’s deliberately incomplete cyborg bodies become clear upon observation. Both creators, Bul and Masamune use their work as vehicles to question the value of the human, especially when this living creature is able to be changed and edited so effortlessly.

Similar in thought but different in output is the photographic series A New Kind of Beauty, a series of photographs captured by Phillip Toledano. Taken between 2008 and 2010, A New Kind of Beauty is comprised of portraits of people who have undergone radical plastic surgery. For some of the subjects, the changes are hard to detect. Others wear features so different from the accepted norm that they cannot help but draw the eye; their alien countenances conveying this strangeness with a self-possessed and quiet dignity.

Figure 3. Phillip Toledano, Angel (2009)

This kind of alteration deviates from the idea presented by Bul in that the change is administered first and foremost for aesthetic reasons. Toledano’s series of portraits showcase a type of beauty that is able to be controlled and shaped by choice, resulting in subjects who appear vastly different from the general populace. This kind of human is one augmented and changed beyond a natural circumstance, and it is the artist’s interest in this reshaping that draws the concept and thought for the series.

“In 50 or 100 years’ time, I think humanity won’t look like it does today because of technology. …We will be able to redefine what it means to look human and I think these people are the vanguard of that type of evolution,”[4]

Toledano’s statement on the project stands as an interesting observation on the present and a curious look into the future. With the tools at humanity’s disposal, the question of augmentation for aesthetics becomes not an ‘if’ but ‘when’, and ‘to what extent?’

This pursuit of aesthetics in itself presents as a fascinating subject; the definition of what is aesthetically pleasing having changed many times over years. Is then the accepted aesthetic presently given subject to change? It would appear so, if the cyclic nature of trends and fashions are anything to go by. Concepts and aesthetics remain subject to time and the ability that plastic surgery bestows in changing the human face and body at will brings to mind another series of thoughts. Will the definition of beauty still be subject to change when the alteration of a surgeon can cause change in the subject instead? And how will the spectrum of beauty be changed by this artificial intervention? [5]

It would seem that the rising popularity of plastic surgery allows the individual to pursue their concept of beauty to the finest degree. One of the models of Toledano’s photographic series, Justin Jedlica, is part of the niche ‘living doll’ aesthetic.

Figure 4. Phillip Toledano, Justin, (2009)

Jedlica, along with the ‘human Barbie’ Valeria Lukyanova, are examples of humans who have taken to the optical illusions of makeup and the more extreme alterations offered by surgery in pursuit of their ideal of beauty – that of the impossibly proportioned and shaped dolls Barbie and Ken, childhood doll toys manufactured by Mattel.

Figure 5. Justin Jedlica and Valeria Lukyanova. Photo copyright of Inside Edition.

This aesthetic, offered by a doll company, is what inspired Jedlica and Lukyanova to alter their bodies to fit. According to Jedlica, ‘Children play with Barbie and Ken all the time so it’s fed to us from a very young age that that is the epitome of what is beautiful or what is handsome.’[6]

This thought is echoed in Toledano’s artist statement on A New Kind of Beauty – one of his many queries centering on the recent ability to completely reshape the aesthetic appearance of a human; ‘When we re-make ourselves, are we revealing our true character, or are we stripping away our very identity?’ [7]The artist does not bring about a conclusion to the rhetoric, but instead invites the public to interact with the photographic series, composed and laid out in a style deliberately referencing 16^th century artist Hans Holbein the Younger[8], a landmark portraiture artist of his time.

This new and potentially unsettling method of pursuing perfection can have a variety of ramifications for the unsuspecting member of public. So different is the drive behind this thought pattern, it almost certainly warrants a different method of interaction between the altered and the unaltered. There is also much to be said for an individual’s identification to the rest of society when so much about them can be changed, permanently. How would the uninitiated relate to the individual capable of such an extreme morphing? They are clearly not the same as they were before, and yet it is only the physical appearance of the individual that has changed. This interaction of opposing concepts often leaves the general public with the difficult task of relation and navigation amid a maze of social conforms and expectations that is defined by the individual.

What then can be said of the post-human in this environment? It now appears that the human is granted the ability to determine their own shape, and set of physical aesthetics. These personal aesthetics in turn are influenced by the time in which the individual lives, and the amount of change possible is limited only by the current range of techniques and surgeries marked as ‘ideal’ or ‘safe’ by medical practitioners.

This ability to determine the countenance of the individual brings with it a new set of thoughts and arguments in turn – what can be said of the face that people were born with? Society is given the ability to obtain more than what was given at birth, and there are those who would grasp it in pursuit of their own aesthetic. It brings into question the inherent value of the appearance of an unaltered human. In a society where so much of the value of an individual is determined simply at face value, the post-human has the potential to change much of what is valued in the current and future generations.

The advent of this change affects clearly the environment of not only those who partake in it, but those who inhabit the same sphere. This outfall of change, like everything that happens in the known world, has to be governed by a certain power, and it is this governance that allows the change to cohesively blend with society. Simply put, there must be an entity or entities that are called to responsibility as a result of this introduced set of ideas.

Enter Eduardo Kac. Kac’s art focuses on the puzzle of genetics and deliberate mutation, of working on a basal level with the building blocks that determine the physical and physiological makeup of living things. Particularly brought to attention is his genetic work from 2000, the GFP Bunny (also known as Alba).

Figure 6. Eduardo Kac, GFP Bunny (Alba) 2000

Of the creature, Kac has stated, 

‘transgenic art is a new art form based on the use of genetic engineering to create unique living beings. This must be done with great care, with acknowledgement of the complex issues raised and, above all, with a commitment to respect, nurture and love the life thus created.’[9]

The year before, Eduardo Kac had proposed the concept of a dog with the GFP gene to the symposium ‘Life Science’ presented by Ars Electronica.[10] It was met with a variety of responses, ranging from outright refusal to complete support, but was limited by technology available at the time[11]. Kac’s desire had been to investigate new methods of breeding in dogs, the well-associated closest animals to humans. This initial plan was adapted to the GFP Bunny, known to the general public as ‘Alba’.

After the birth of Alba, Kac had requested to take the laboratory-born animal home, and was met with refusal. Subsequently, he began to raise awareness of the situation, sensationalising his request and bringing it into the public eye.[12] This compounded the unique creature’s situation, as her creation just months prior had created a stir all over the world in various forms of media.[13] Whether the motive for the artist to personally obtain the rabbit in order to possess the fame that came with the animal or to properly care for the creature is not sure, but Kac’s statement pertaining directly to the creature seems to indicate that he had a deep-seated desire to take personal responsibility for the animal he had manufactured.

This sense of obligation towards the created was not limited exclusively to Alba the rabbit; as Kac’s other works indicate. Natural History of the Enigma was a work created by Kac between 2003 and 2008 and was focused on a ‘plantimal’ created by the artist. Named an ‘Edunia’, the creation was a genetically modified petunia, which had been modified to incorporate the artist’s genetic pattern for immunoglobin.[14] A component of blood commonly known as ‘antibodies’, the immunoglobin was encoded into the plant’s genetic makeup, and its presence in the finished product was made evident by the bright red veins lining the flowers of the ‘plantimal’[15]. Kac dubbed the creation as ‘plantimal’, citing it as a mix of plant and animal, something which would never grow in the wild. In naming the plant an ‘Edunia’, he gave it his own name, and as a result extended his ownership and subsequent onus of responsibility to it as well.

Figure 7. Eduardo Kac watering Edunia, 2009. Photo: Joy Lengyel

Somehow, Kac manages to inhabit two seemingly opposing trains of thought when explaining the concept of Natural History of the Enigma. On one side, the conceptual reach of the artwork was designed to show off the ability of genetic splicing in creating a relation between the classified kingdoms Plantae and Animalia. On the other, the artist states that ‘all life, no matter how similar, is fundamentally different. All life is singular.’[16] These two concepts find correlation in the artist’s desire to take responsibility for what is created; something that is made evident through the events surrounding both GFP Bunny (Alba) and Natural History of the Enigma. It is seen that in both cases, the artist tries to take as much responsibility as can be held for his genetic creations.

This overarching theme of responsibility is also addressed by Australian artist Patricia Piccinini, although the application of said action is rather different. Piccinini’s works are nonliving, hyper-realistic creations, resembling genetic creatures altered to a much greater degree than that used by Kac.

An example in point would be the mixed-media sculpture Surrogate for the Northern Hairy-Nosed Wombat. The work is of a theoretical creature, designed for the purpose of breeding back from endangerment the rare wombat, whose declining numbers can be attributed in part to human error.[17] The artwork raises thoughts among its audience of what extent society could use biotechnology to undo damage done to flora and fauna of the environments we inhabit.[18]

Figure 8. Patricia Piccinini, Nature’s Little Helpers –Surrogate (for the Northern Hairy Nosed Wombat) (2004) (rear view) Silicone, fibreglass, leather, plywood, hair. Dimensions variable

In this case, Piccinini is absolutely nodding to the question of responsibility. Would we hold ourselves responsible for errors or actions done in the past? And would we be willing to do something about the situation as a result? Her work contrasts to that of Kac in the degree of which this theme is employed. Kac for a large part seems to allow his statements and actions to speak quietly of the responsibility inherent in creating life. Piccinini’s works by contrast take the responsibility required and petition the viewer to take it up. This petitioning usually comes across in her artworks through their uncanny resemblance to humans, in spite of their often animalian features.

Figure 9. Patricia Piccinini, The Young Family, (2002) Silicone, polyurethane, leather, human hair. Dimensions variable.

In The Young Family, one of Piccinini’s most well-known works, the resemblance of the creatures to human inspires both familiarity and revulsion. It is like us, and at the same time very much not like us. How should we react to it? It has an appearance completely different from any creature we know of, and therefore would be considered artificial; a result of genetic tinkering. Who then takes responsibility for the creature and its offspring? The clear mother of the scene has by extension of her motherhood taken responsibility of the creatures; of her offspring.  She challenges the viewer, and yet does not need to be taken to task for the same challenge; she already has something to care for.

Piccinini is less subtle in her thematic use of responsibility in creating life, but is no less interested in the concept than Kac.

What then can be said of these artists when relating to the post-human? Each has a different manner in which their art and conceptual work is expressed, but all boil down to one particular idea: the inherent value of the human.

For Bul, her fascination centres on the blurring of lines between the human and technology in pursuit of perfection. Her fragmented cyborgs ask quietly what it would mean to be human and why it is that the cyborg cannot holistically exist without the human (although by definition, a cyborg requires interface with a human to exist). Bul investigates the right of mankind to intervene and right ‘human imperfection’[19] through technology and its incorporation into the human body.

Toledano presents a different look at the inherent value of the human; similar to Bul is the incorporation of foreign materials into the body, but the focus lies in aesthetics and the pursuit of beauty, even boiling down to the individual definitions given for beauty among society. In this self-defined world, the natural body is subject to alteration and augmentation, to a point where it is no longer recognisable from its native state. The desire is not for the base human form, but for the capturing of ‘a particular part of beauty from our time’.[20]

Overarching and yet still very much related then, is the practise of Kac. Focused on the reactions to the post-human, Kac’s evidenced desire for responsibility taken for his creations reflect a different outlook on the augmentation of the human form or the forms seen in the environment of the human. The concept is understood as taking responsibility for the creation, no matter what is actually created.

This concept of responsibility relates strongly to the value of the human on two levels; firstly, it acknowledges that the post-human is something entirely different from the human, and thus cannot be given the same set of rules for interaction with society as given to its predecessor. Secondly, if the human is to be credited and held responsible for the creation of the new creature, the post-human cannot be credited as greater than the human. They co-exist, equal and yet different.

The concept of the post-human and its reoccurrence in modern art often raises questions. It’s a relatively new concept, and can be very confronting. This stems from a very simple source: by creating the post-human, we are changing something intensely personal to society and to the human race, calling into question something that is unequivocally shared by everyone. By changing the makeup of the human, we create a new set of rules required to correctly engage with the subject. This is not limited to the social circle, as this new set of rules overflows into how the post-human must be governed and cared for by society, and how the human and post-human would value each other.

The definition of the post-human, it would seem then, is the augmented human. The human that blurs the defining lines between themselves and their environment, creating change for the sake of change, but at the same time taking responsibility for their alterations, concurrently existing as human and post-human: progenor and progeny.

Bibliography

Art Gallery of South Australia. “Patricia Piccinini: education resource” Last accessed 06/06/13 http://www.artgallery.sa.gov.au/agsa/home/Learning/docs/Online_Resources/Piccinini_online_resource.pdf

Bul, Lee. Lee Bul. Sydney: Museum of Contemporary Art, 2004

Dixon, Joan Broadhurst & Cassidy, Eric J, editors, Virtual futures: cyberotics, technology and post-human pragmatism. London and New York: Routledge, 1998

Eduardo Kac. “Natural History of the Edunia” Last modified 06/06/13 http://www.ekac.org/nat.hist.enig.html

Gautherot, Frank. ‘Supernova in Kareoke Land’ Flash Art International, no.217, March-April 2001, Kac, Eduardo, Signs of Life: Bio Art and Beyond. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2006

Masamune Shirow, Mamoru Oshii, Ghost in the Shell (motion picture), Bandai Entertainment, 1995

Mr. Toledano. “A New Kind of Beauty” Last modified 06/06/13. http://www.mrtoledano.com/a-new-kind-of-beauty

The Slate. Rosenberg, David. “Classical Portraits of Extreme Plastic Surgery”. Last modified 06/06/13. http://www.slate.com/blogs/behold/2013/04/04/phillip_toledano_a_new_kind_of_beauty_examines_people_who_redefine_what.html

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[1] Lee Bul, Lee Bul (Sydney: Museum of Contemporary Art, 2004). p8

[2] Lee Bul quoted in Frank Gautherot, ‘Supernova in Kareoke Land’ Flash Art International, no.217, March-April 2001, p82

[3] Lee Bul, Lee Bul (Sydney: Museum of Contemporary Art, 2004). p8

[4] “Classical Portraits of Extreme Plastic Surgery”. Last modified 06/06/13. http://www.slate.com/blogs/behold/2013/04/04/phillip_toledano_a_new_kind_of_beauty_examines_people_who_redefine_what.html

[5] “Artist’s statement, A New Kind of Beauty” Last modified 06/06/13. http://www.mrtoledano.com/a-new-kind-of-beauty

[6] “Classical Portraits of Extreme Plastic Surgery”. Last modified 06/06/13. http://www.slate.com/blogs/behold/2013/04/04/phillip_toledano_a_new_kind_of_beauty_examines_people_who_redefine_what.html

[7] “Artist’s statement, A New Kind of Beauty” Last modified 06/06/13. http://www.mrtoledano.com/a-new-kind-of-beauty

[8] “Classical Portraits of Extreme Plastic Surgery”

[9] Eduardo Kac, Signs of Life: Bio Art and Beyond (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2006), p165

[10] Kac, Signs of Life: Bio Art and Beyond. P165

[11] ibid. p164-165

[12] ibid. p165, 170

[13] Ibid. p166-169

[14] “Natural History of the Edunia” Last modified 06/06/13 http://www.ekac.org/nat.hist.enig.html

[15] “Natural History of the Edunia”

[16] “Natural History of the Edunia”

[17] “Patricia Piccinini: education resource” p13. Last accessed 06/06/13 http://www.artgallery.sa.gov.au/agsa/home/Learning/docs/Online_Resources/Piccinini_online_resource.pdf

[18] “Patricia Piccinini: education resource” p13

[19] Lee Bul, Lee Bul (Sydney: Museum of Contemporary Art, 2004). p8

[20] “Classical Portraits of Extreme Plastic Surgery”. Last modified 06/06/13.

The future is here and I'm terrified of it.

So.

It's been two months since I last burdened everyone else with understanding how mussed the inside of my head is.

In the meantime, I managed to finish the novel from November (It's like 60k long or something now.), went on a three-day hike that I did not take enough photos for, went home, went to Queensland for Christmas, volunteered for a week-long kids club for my church and am now back in Newie, looking madly for a job before the meagre savings buffer I'd built up last year disintegrates.

In that time, I've been to two weddings, travelled 1000k in cars over 24 hours, done doorknocking, and had some wonderful late-night conversations with friends.

But the future's here, and it's sitting on my floor like my lunchbox that I know has a chinese container with off curry in it, and I'm terrified to open it, because I don't know what to do with it anyway. It's sitting here and looking at me and the longer it looks at me the more terrified I get, because I feel like this was supposed to be easier, but I'm in the In Between space again and am scrabbling about worse than a rabbit on tiles.

And the similes are easier to write, and I constructed a monologue describing my skills in my Oddspeak, but that doesn't change where I am.

Oddspeak is the word I've coined just now. I once wrote a blog post in Oddspeak, last year, I think. It's here if you want to read it.
I can't think of another word for it now. If you read the previous post, you'll notice that it's super lyrical and super involved. It's laborious to speak, because of the double statements and constant comparisons, but the way it weaves back and forth is designed to conjure an image in the mind, layered and built on with every line, every syllable, until the image appears alive and strong, and very, very real and now...

...and I'm doing it now, aren't I?

I think the first instances of me using this kind of language was when I got mad in school. The use of big words weights your statements, and the time it takes for the other person to get what you're yabbering on about usually buys enough time to solidify the argument in your own head.

But that's not the purpose of me trying to write now, to get the thoughts out of my head because I'm stuck in my house at the moment, too freaked out to go look for more jobs.

Last night was Skype night - Wednesday always is. And I got to catch up with my folks, and gave them the lowdown on how I'd thrown my resume at eight different places yesterday, and I was actually really pleased with it, considering that I'd been nearly paralyzed with anxiety for most of it.

Dude, I do not like this job hunting business.

And the response to 'I gave out eight resumes at local places looking for work' was 'are you looking in career-oriented places'?

I'm not at the moment. I'm stuck in this boggery right now, because I just need a brainless job, and I don't want to leave Newcastle this year, but the kind of job I need to go get to be doing what I want to do will pretty much without fail require me to move.

Dad suggested one he'd found right away, and the title and description made it sound exactly where I wanted to be.

But it's in Melbourne.

Why is everything in my industry in Melbourne I don't even want to go there it's too cold and I've only just established my life here and it's too far away and moving and stress and friends....

*Flips table*

There's other jobs out there like this. I'm reading through things now and they're exciting to look at, but so far away. The stress of even considering these is making my palms sweat.

I was kind of hoping that I could just stay in Newcastle for a little longer. Find out if there's anything here I should be staying for - there's stacks going on with my church in either case - and then perhaps entertain the idea of leaving if it didn't mean leaving so many people behind.

I feel like I'm waiting around for other things, too, or waiting to see how those things unfold, but I'm running out of time, and I've picked an industry you need like five years experience to be in entry level anyway, and I have my cosplay, but it's still not amazing compared to the professionals I see at cons, and...

...and I'm sorry I'm babbling. And not sorry.

Look, the next blog post I'm writing is going to be on the hike I did in December. Much less intrusive, more about my stupid hat.

There's a lot going on but I'm a long way from having the momentum to get at any of it. And I feel like I should have gotten onto this earlier.

So, pretty much exactly how things were just after I finished High School.

At least I didn't bom out with uni.

On the bright side, I found an incredibly complex recipe for Turkish Delight on Tuesday. Some of you will know this, and some won't, but I've picked up a habit of baking to decrease stress levels. And I don't have an oven.

But that's okay here, because I don't need an oven for Turkish Delight. I just need a buttload of sugar and four days to work on it.

Whoever knew this stuff was so laborious?

Updates: Final Semester, Glutton for Punishment, Future Cosplays and Life Lessons

So.

Somehow it's now the last day of July. And I've had my first day off for this week.

Uni started back on Monday, and with it came the challenge of waking up on time, and remembering to do things in the correct order to maintain sanity and other general things.

I've started my last semester - I finish studies in November, and hopefully the University will give me the funny hat early next year. With this then, is a slight bittersweet feeling. I mean, I've really loved uni, but at the same time, there's a bunch of things that I'll be glad to have done and dusted when I leave the realms of tertiary education.

And hopefully, I'll be able to get a job at the end of it. And move into a house that's a little warmer in the winter.

I've got a couple of blog posts in the works; these are kind of things that I've been mulling over the last month or so. There's two that are about my first car, and one that's about communication. I'm still trying to figure out how to say everything that I want to say in those, which is why they're not up yet.

Also, NaNo is coming up again in November. Which is still a little bit away, but I'm beginning to plan story stuff now, because then you can just write during the allocated time. I'm ML-ing for Newcastle along with another mate again this year, so it should be fun. If I can figure out how to navigate time properly, I'll also try and finish last year's novel before we get to November. I got to fifty thousand on it, but it's probably closer to an eighty or hundred-thousand word novel. I haven't even written the scene with the granting of the superpowers yet.

*sigh*

Anyway, most of the plot of this year's novel is already planned. The characters don't have names yet. The story is about apathy, I guess. The main character is really apathetic because -*statement redacted*

More on it soon. The story doesn't have a name yet. But it's about fate and apathy and the future and a bunch of other things. Redemption?

And a gypsy curse, unless I can think of a better way to phrase that bit. Carnies with superpowers or something.

So, what else is going down?

Today, I woke up late, courtesy of playing Princess Uno with friends last night until I'd punched into the 'confused zombie' phase of overtired.

Yesterday, I started on my sister's 18th birthday present. It's her birthday tomorrow. Not sure if it'll be done in time. :/

I also attended my first Alchemy class for the semester, and made a big piece of chalk art at the church hub/office.

Yeah, that's right. Alchemy.

It's funny, because when Bec the Housemate and I were looking at the Fine Art Program Handbook back in first year, we both saw Alchemy listed and laughed our heads off because 'what? Like the lead-into-gold business? I knew Fine Arts was going to be a bit out there, but they seriously teach Alchemy?'

Yeah, they do. Sorry to ruin it, but it's a photography subject. You learn to print photographs with technology that was used back in the 1840's. One of the first exercises that we're going to do is make a pseudo-daguerreotype. I'm going to henceforth refer to that word as 'D-type' because I can't spell it without aid of a spell-checker. D-type photographs were the first type of photograph made, and the process happened when you coated a silver plate with a bunch of chemicals, exposed it to light, and then exposed it to a bunch more chemicals. Including mercury gases. I think we might be skipping the mercury bit of the process.

First.

But D-types were insanely cool on a number of different levels. Firstly, they produced only a single positive from the process - unlike film photography, which creates a negative that can be printed from - so the end product was a complete one-off. Second, these photos were incredibly detailed, due to the nature of the light-sensitised metal; the surface was slow-reacting to the light, and could be compared with modern tech as having an ISO of less than ten.

(For my friends who aren't waist-deep in photography madness, ISO is light sensitivity. The higher the number, the more light sensitive. The trade off with having high ISO images is the grainy effect you usually see on cheap cameras)

So yeah. Alchemy looks like it'll be fun.

And I've got a substitute for Fibres this semester, but I've had her teach me before, and I actually get along with her better than my standard tutor, so this semester I'll actually want to do really well with Fibres. Which is good.

My theory course looks like a mix of philosophy and art, which should be interesting.

And I've got another photography elective on Friday.

So that's uni so far. I'm planning to make lace at some stage this semester, and I don't even know what else.

Wait.

Let me tell you about today's finding.

Animania is one of the conventions that I frequent. Case in point.
The big one is coming up in September, and I was of two minds about going, until I got an update about the event this morning.

The special guest is the Japanese voice actress for Kuchiki Rukia, of Bleach.

And you're all like 'blimey, not Bleach again'

At that point, something in me sighed, and something in me went nuts. Because I then should totally go, and get a signature or something, and dress as Rukia, but not her standard attire, because that's too simple and there'll be fifty million of them at the convention.

Truth be told, I already had a Rukia cosplay planned for some time in the future. I was actually planning to do it at a point in time where I wouldn't have long hair though, because wigs are getting more and more difficult for me. Something about having hair down to my butt.

Anyway. We'll work that out when we get there.

A week later...

Crap.

Okay, that's it. I've got gallery duty and I'm going to be here for the next five hours; posting will be done.

Also, I realised that all that post got incredibly detailed in a short amount of time. I apologise. If not careful, it's pretty easy to get stuck on the small details. A flaw of mine.

What was this week then?

I got very sick on Monday night. No idea why. Guts just decided to hit the 'purge' button and things got less and less fun after that. It's only today that my appetite has actually returned somewhat. Isotonic drinks in the meantime are the best.

I've also started patternmaking the outfit for Animania; I was supposed to get the fabric today, but for my amazing organisational skills. (Woo!)
Tomorrow.

I think there's a couple things I'm on edge about with the cosplay, and a couple of things I'm really, really happy about.

I dunno if I ever blogged about it before, but battle damaged characters are boss to cosplay.

I probably said something a while back about this too.

Why?

No hems. You can have something that's flowing and majestic and tattered as buckleys, and you don't have to sew hems on it. In fact, it actually looks better if you irregularly hack into the fabric with a pair of scissors. Authentic battle damage; stuff like that. Hems on giant flowing things are pretty nasty, so no hems make life better.

The outfit also looks really simple. I finished patternmaking it last night; the seams and stuff are all nice and neat.

Except for the collar.

Look at that thing.

LOOK AT IT.

It's like whoever designed this thing didn't even understand how clothes work. It was just 'oh, hey. This would look cool. Let's chuck this on here, and that on there, and whatever.'

*Throws chair*

It'll be done. Fortunately, Dark Rukia has been cosplayed before; so I can look at what other people have done in the past and figure out what I'm working on from there, but in the meantime it's a bit tricky.

Now, to away from this clunky update, and try and write something a little more coherent. I've got five hours left at the gallery. Plenty of time.

Week 11 just finished. I'm panicking.

So yeah.

I guess I can cover basics of what's going on with assessment work, and where things are looking and going and I'm actually blogging at the moment because I'm supposed to be writing an essay and my head isn't ordered enough.

TT.TT

That's a crying face, if you're not aware of emoticons. Like, anime-looking style crying face or whatever.

ANYWAY.

Hmm.

Monday began later than it should have - that's what happens when you stay up until 1 the night before trying to finish a blog post (funnily enough). I started work on one of my other projects, because it's really not fair that I'm spending the classtime of one class for work on another project. So I heated up some beeswax and spent the morning writing scripture passages onto a giant piece of calico. Working on a batik was meditative to a degree, and to a degree annoying, because I'd never done it before and it was fairly chilly, so the wax would cool before I could write more than two or three words.

So that's about three hours worth of work.
And the flipping computer can't even orient it properly.

But, by the end of the class, I had a section from John 1 and one from Philippians 2 written with a degree of neatness. The idea at the moment is to make an artwork about Jesus, since the theme of the artwork is 'hardcore softly/softly threatening'

And I'm not trying to be ironic about anything. I am just aware that most of my art friends don't understand Jesus, and would probably find him threatening, since his call to drop everything and follow him is kind of treading on the cushy outlook of someone who has no immediate desire to know the Maker of the universe.

And, like, Jesus never wussed out of anything. Ever.

Suitable artwork subject matter located.

Um. Rest of the week.

Tuesday I finished the shoulders for the armour (dupion/pauldrons/whatever you call them). In a relatively short period of time. To my joy.

I mean, the things, when they're just worn over my clothes, look like something the eighties spit out but hey. I'm sure they'll make more sense when they're attached in conjunction with the rest of the armour. Something I've noticed (early on) is just how bulky Spartan armour is on the body. It's not something you realise until you see someone moving around in it, and get an idea of how smaller they are than the shell.

It's almost comical until the helmet goes on, and then you can't help but be in character. And then the theme music starts, and some part of comedy exists, because it's a guy dressed as Master Chief in someone's dining room and a small dog just ran past. It's like the moment that helm goes on, you cease to be you and the costume is complete. Fiction drawn into the real world. Fourth wall gone.

Bam.

My thoughts are more scattered than when you pick up a bag of rice from the wrong end. I've had a lot going on upstairs at the moment (figuratively speaking) really. None of which I will inflict on the world wide web, because this is not LiveJournal. Can we move on? Let's move on.

It feels like I'm getting a good pattern established with the armour in terms of...what? A repoire? A habit? There's something about the way I'm doing it now, that's just better than whatever I was doing before.

Plus, getting three pieces done in a week is pretty good for your headspace in terms of 'hey, I achieved something'. I finished the codpiece on the weekend.

No finished pictures as of yet.

...

I keep calling it a belt, because it does go around my waist, and that means I can name the armour with a straight face, because it's a piece of armour that's otherwise going to be called a buttplate or something. At the moment I'm tossing up whether or not to put a buckle on the inside of it so I can buckle it around my waist instead of wriggling the thing over my head and shoulders.

On Thursday, I met again with my supervisor, settled a date for assessment (19th June), talked about the possibility of borrowing an airbrush from the uni to paint the armour (because I'm not painting it until it's all done so everything is definitely the same colour), and the challenges involved with getting everything done when I'm still really hoping to get another costume done in time as well.

I haven't forgotten about you, Sheik.

I've just grossly underestimated the amount of time needed to get this flipping thing done. I've been working on it (conceptually) since semester started, and now I really just want it to be done so I don't have to worry about it any more.

I mean, having the thing done will be amazing. But it's just stressful at the moment. I am ready to have it finished, and when it is finished I will take it to every costume party ever, or at least until summer arrives, because even after vent panels go in to the wetsuit, I still think it'll be rather warm.

You know, after watching that video up there, I'm kind of wondering if maybe I should go about having the things attached a little differently. Initially, (and I'm still thinking like this) there is/was going to be velcro on the suit, and on the armour, and then the armour pieces would be directly attached to the suit.

Advantages: Segmented. Kind of simple. Armour would basically be rigid attached to the body.
Disadvatages: I need padding on the inside of some of the pieces to ensure a good surface...that thing...like, surface area! I need a lot of flush surface area for velcro. And it might be a little bit hard to make sure things are even.

The harness looking thing looks like it'd be a little bit more complex to set up, but might pay off. Oh, but you can see the straps that connect the pieces.

The other thing that worries me about the harness setup is that it would actually restrict your movement - like, if you were running or climbing, your stride length is immediately impeded by the straps holding up the thigh armour.

I know that either of those activities would be a lot harder in armour anyway, but I'm trying to think of things that would compound the problem.

So, harness-type for holding armour on:
Advantages: comprehensive. Doesn't require internal padding. Easier to have armour even on both sides.
Disadvantages: turns your gear into tangling nunchucks when not attached to the body. Complex. Probably okay for walking around and/or basic poses, but would impede more extreme movements. Possibility that armour would migrate during movement.

If my leg-hoster bag is anything to go by, migration of armour can be expected. This will actually get really annoying if I need to stop every twenty metres to straighten up leg armour because it moves when I walk.

You guys are great. You sit here and read, and I yabber, and all of the problems get fixed. Thanks :)
Velcro it is.

Okay. It's now week 12. Where am I up to?

I am going to die. Sooner or later.

In the meantime, I have two weeks after this where my studio is accessible. I have two Fibres projects to finish/polish, and the studio folder for that to get in order. I have the armour to finish (Thighs, Breastplate, Helm, undersuit, boot bases, gloves, paint), Sheik to finish (I'm fairly sure I can knock that over in two weeks), a seventy percent essay due next week that I haven't started, and the blog to make shiny and print up. There'll probably be supplementing documents for Directed Studies as well, because I don't include absolutely everything about DS on the blog (because it's all the kind of bonus material that is justified in leaving in the 'bonus content' part of the DVD, rather than being in the middle of the movie and then hearing the director butt in and give their spin on what's going on right now.)

But yeah. Bonus content is always good, because it's getting to explain to non-costumers why I'm doing what I'm doing, but at the same time, the blog is really following the narrative, so if I stop and tell you about every little detail, things will get boring really quickly.

Pictured: Boring.

So yeah. Hey week 12. Let's dance.