#alyssamaurerphoto

[al-the-photographer-blog]

Introduction

My boots clonked across the wooden planks to the front porch doorway. With rhythmic motion and almost in syncopation, my hands popped off the second-to-last, plastic banister cap where the spare keys could be found. In one swift motion screen push pop slink twist open, I entered the house. Kicking my shoes off and dropping my bag on the pale-blue rug, my body sunk into the cushions of the soft, brown couch. My body felt suspended by the sheer amount of comfort I was receiving. There, I sat for a brief moment of peace. My eyes lingered up to analyze the sundial designs on the ceiling made possible by the drywall compound. My eyes swirled around the ceiling, dancing to the curvature of their forms.

Then, a harsh popping-blast from one of the bedrooms rang into my eardrums. With a gust of wind, my hair enveloped my face and smoke began to fill the room. The only fire alarm in the house-a sad example of precautionary safety measures-did not resound with its irritant pitch. Rather, the alarm rang out with a frazzled and distanced noise that crackled as it faded exponentially. The sound resembled a children’s toy running out of battery life or when the sound mechanism finally exceeds its life expectancy. An eerie semblance symbolic of impermanence and a reminder that even inorganic matter has a finite timeline. Once the smoke had created a dense fog, I heard an individual struggling to approach from the bedroom area. They were accompanied by loud thuds against the walls which announced their presence moments before entering.

“Ooof-“, sounded the voice running into another wall. The voice was muffled. Apparently, the person’s head or mouth was now attempting to assimilate with the drywall. Footsteps one by one stepped across the laminate floor. Each step was distinctly covered by shoes as the clicking of their soles drew closer.

My eyes closed and rolled up into the sockets of my head inextricably annoyed by the presence. They stayed there until my breath could return without choking on the smoke. It took several still moments before one eye peaked open to access the damage and was met with the perpetrator standing resolute before the couch. The other eye slowly followed.

“Good afternoon, lass!”, she boomed at me, pulling some sort of large, metal contraption from her right hand to rest on her shoulder. The position, with her left hand on her hips and the smog-filled room made her look even more bizarre; resembling some mad cosplayer who went rogue and instead of attending comic con was out on a bloody rampage.

“Hey-,” my throat caught on the smoke mid vocalization provoking a wicked coughing fit, “—ay Ally-YYY.” The coughs made it hard to continue. So I stopped trying to communicate to allow my body to recuperate.

Ally smirked looking down at me in my ostensibly pathetic position amidst the chaos around us. She moved her head to the side briskly so that her spiky blue hair moved out of her face revealing her piercing green eyes. The living room windows let in just enough sunlight through the fog to ignite their iridescent charm. Her face was covered in brown smudges and a noticeably organic aroma spread from her presence. Was that mud? Shit? Popcorn?

“While you’re getting over that cough,” she started while trotting over to the coffee table to open up our great-grandmother’s candy dish,” consider this.” She had withdrawn the glass lid and retrieved a root-beer barrel from the dish. While unwrapping the candy, she continued.

“God exiled Adam and Eve for wearing clothes in the Garden of Eden---right? Like, that’s a pretty insignificant thing to get pissed off at, if you ask me. Oh no, you’ve put on clothes, leave my garden! This is a birthday suit only party!” She giggled to herself while falling and flailing her thin frame around the room. Shoving the candy into her mouth, her jaw tightened around it as she began to suck on its savory flavor. That candy made her jaw stay ajar when she talked.

“So, Adam and Eve leaf—“, she slurped as some of the sugary spit leaked from the sides of her mouth, “wit no problem. Years down the line though, this fight ain’t over. God sends his Son, Jesus to come and save us from our sins.” My head turned to the side avoiding her stare. This was where my mind usually left the conversation, but Ally was known for having arousing epiphanies after events such as this or at their climax—if her frenzy was just beginning. Coming to terms with this thought, my mind optimized its focus. My head and eyes returned to greet her in conversation after a few moments.

“Ok,” I choked, “I’m still listening.” My eyes were a red, watery flood from the fog. I got up, my chest buckled with another coughing fit as I made my way over to foyer to examine myself in the vanity mirror. Ally nodded at me as I passed. She continued her monologue from the same location unbridled by my actions. Clunking around aimlessly like a baby fawn fresh from the womb she stepped about the living room.

“Rightto! So, what I wanna know is why did Jesus spend all those years supposedly teaching the ‘word of God’”, I looked up from my reflection to see both her hands make a symbolic gesture of sarcasm, “when he shoulda’ been starting a nudist colony.” Her hands fell down to her hips in a clapping noise while my lips curled up in amusement. I reached into my pocket and pulled out some eye drops. Trying to hold in my laughter caused my lungs to flair up. My throat released another fiery fit of coughing intermixed with chokes of laughter.

“I’m serious!” Ally complained stomping her left foot on the ground to add emphasis. I held my breath to regain my composure before responding.

“You know God didn’t exile Adam and Eve exclusively for their newfound fashion sense, right? Eve ate the forbidden fruit!” I said with increased volume and confidence. “She succumbs to evil and then shared that evil with Adam. It was a distinct no-no from the getgo and those ungrateful shits tried it still.” I was blinking my eyes rapidly with the solution. Between blinks, Ally’s reaction became a stop-motion film worthy of an Oscar.

[anth-seeing2019]

Pl34SUR3S

While working, I chose not to intervene with Christian institutions in lower-income or underprivileged areas. A lot of learning has resulted from this project as it has been conducted. Out of that knowledge, I’ve generated newfound respect; not just of people’s faith, but of the community that surrounds these institutions and its function as a still-beating-heart within Cincinnatian gentrification. Out of respect, I set one hard restriction within the parameters of this project. 

Goal: Discussion and action towards sex education reform in public schools by challenging one of its biggest stakeholders, religion.

Topic: Sex Censorship

Audience: Institutions and congregations of the Christian faith (primarily in well-functioning districts) 

Disruption: Public Art/ Performance and documentation of blow-up doll No.2 (Betty) juxtaposed with religious institutions

By investigating how religion, Catholicism, in particular, has cultivated an air of taboo around sex, this project urges its faculties to reconsider their quasi-archaic conventions through public art disruption and discourse. The end goal of this project is to advocate for sexual education reform in public schools through the implementation of a blow-up doll. This project proposes that if you can have a dialogue about sex in church congregations, then it shouldn’t be unreasonable to have the same dialogue in schools; opening up discussion more freely and unburdening awkwardness.

This project comes down to the fundamental battle and restraints that pro creationism has perpetrated over the years and how institutions such as the Vatican, prevent progressive social reform from ever being discussed; preventing access by censoring or ignoring the topic through various loopholes/misdirection. For instance, catholic families can omit their children from participating in sex-ed classes entirely by writing a note.

On Catholicism and Religion & History

It’s a widely accepted faith with a lot of history and influence. So, when we think of the very beginnings of civilization, procreation was necessary for safety in numbers, working offspring, food gathering, and innovation. Since language was invented, procreation as been one of the binding values that belief systems, governments, and institutions all share.

Catholicism used it as a way to create more followers (I mean this in a sincere way) and keep family members united; which is a good thing…until you get to the 21st century. “In the past decade alone, online dating has had probably the biggest single impact on our sexual lives. Websites and apps designed to facilitate sex and romance are everywhere”. This isn’t to say that Catholicism is inherently bad; in fact, it’s done a lot of good: inspiring goodwill, charity, faith, and rules that keep people from harming others. The problem with the way that religion perpetrates procreation now is that any partner-seeking individual within a congregation is expected to keep up with orthodox. The unfortunate, but true fact is that many members of the Catholic faith don’t follow these restrictions. Forced into secrecy, this then creates even more problems. Catholic women are 5X more likely to have an abortion in unsanitary conditions, often resulting in permanent damage to their reproductive organs.

By implementing a blow-up doll, I was able to stage a disruption that facilitated immediate dialogue. I armed myself with facts, statistics, and my mantra-my reason for interrupting their form of seeing-“IF you can talk about sex in church, then you can talk about sex in schools”, which was my way of simplifying advocacy for sex-education reform in public schools. What I’m advocating for in particular is more transparency and access to intermittent sex-ed courses and the inclusion of gender and sexuality studies. Sex-education is treated as a one-and-done course; with the majority of public schools only making it mandatory for a quarter portion of school year studies. Sex-education should be taught repeatedly and intermittently. Teenage and adolescent bodies change drastically throughout cursory education. These physical and emotional changes should be addressed chronologically in tangent with lessons on sexuality and gender; garnering an understanding of attraction, cross-gender, and sexual preference, would generate acceptance of the self and surrounding classmates. This would generate lifelong learning and positive habits for understanding diversity both in school and in alternative environments.

Why a Blow-up Doll? 

I chose a blow-up doll for this project because of these points which ascribe its relevance and activation as a device for disruption in this case :

Blow-up dolls were popularized by men and have a historical prevalence of sex. Primordial versions date as far back as Greek Mythology: The story of Pygmalion which was eventually turned into a play by George Bernard Shaw [of the same name].

Females are heavily scrutinized and overlooked in the Bible. In fact, Wikipedia’s list of biblical female names used in the Bible says “This list contains persons named in the Bible of minor notability, about whom either nothing or very little is known, aside from any family connections.”Blow dolls throughout history consistently depict a female form [which is what I am]Contemporary, radical feminism has been facilitated by females and the female form has been viewed as a vessel for change; which I think authenticates its existence. Many of today’s hot debates are centered around female rights, pro-choice, women’s health, etc., all of which Catholicism plays a major stakeholder in and against. (This reason most of all, I enjoy because it forces femininity into the banal foreground; gloriously nude and proud). It’s symbolic of modernity, change, and acceptance. Finally, blow-up dolls are hilarious and brutally forward. They are indexical of sex in private quarters, but questionable in public forum. Something as puzzling as a ‘rogue blow-up doll’ incites query automatically.  

In Action: The Disruption

First attempts at launching Blow-up doll worked in provisional trials but not by simply filling the doll with helium [blow-up dolls made from PVC cannot simply be filled with helium and float. Buoyancy rates when using helium rise and fall according to the material and surface area]. I had to resort to using multiple balloons, fishing wire, stock helium, and strategic timing which made the project far more foreign when just starting out. Using the balloons and floating a blow-up doll A) happens far too quickly to time intervention with congregation B) requires a larger strike force of people that I didn’t have C) Any rogue wind would result in misdirection of the doll and instigate a search and rescue mission. Floating the doll was canceled after rogue winds caused the doll to come in contact with the steeple of the church; popping balloons and dislodging harness from doll resulting in minor panic from bystanders [and also getting chased off church property]. The doll hit the cross adornment at the top of the steeple of the church and fell, as made barely visible in the photograph.

 Parameters

A lot of learning has resulted from this project as it has been conducted. Out of that knowledge, I’ve generated newfound respect; not just of people’s faith, but of the community that surrounds these institutions and its function as a still-beating-heart within Cincinnatian gentrification. Out of respect, I set one hard restriction within the parameters of this project. While working, I chose not to intervene with Christian institutions in lower-income or underprivileged areas. Out of respect for the community, I chose not to intervene with these buildings because of their role in lower-income areas as not only a place of worship, but a place for community gatherings, faith, outreach, charity, and goodwill. Many of these areas don’t have places for community outreach except for places of worship. Latoya Ruber Frasier’s work calls for awareness of gentrification in the Braddock area of Pittsburgh. Similarly, she notes that factions of a dilapidated community infrastructure often cling to a building, area, or meeting place that serves as the community’s only existing place of refuge. In the series, Campaign for Braddock Hospital (Save Our Community Hospital) (2011), Frazier curates a series of photographs with written recountments and repurposed advertisements from competing industrial investors; those who were wanting to purchase the hospital. This series shows the hopeless, last stand of a community fighting for the essence of their existence to remain intact. Intervening in these areas with this disruption practice would make people less likely to talk or even feel motivated to discuss sex-ed reform. I wanted people to be able to laugh at the end of conversations; not feel disenfranchised, violated, or looked down upon more. All of these concerns tie in with the “Stranger with a Camera” screening which discussed how an outsider’s objective of intervening within an environment can potentially belittle it further and put the outsider in a dangerous position. 

Intervention/Disruption

Once the blow-up doll was in position, people came to me quickly. Initial rage was common amongst the conversations I had. Typically, people were outraged and would begin conversations by questioning who was responsible. In the Videos presented in class, every incident is represented/documented by an intervening photographer. Specifically, I think that the work intervenes on a level that could be considered risky’. Not only is it an intervention of visual culture, but it has the potential to disrupt critical cultural values in a specified area or group. For these interventions, caution is a must, but also the consideration of values that are being devalued.  Interestingly enough, most of these people never actually saw me placing the doll in position. They were making assumptions based on prejudice; unrealistic expectations to lead them to the perpetrator of the incident or placing blame on me automatically based on proximity and associative stigma. This is where another reading comes into play. Karen Strassler, Refracted Visions, photographer as a ‘witness to history’ and the expectations of photographers as inherent record keepers. Where this intervention documents a specific disruption, the members of the congregation wish to omit this type of history from ever taking place. 

Interviews

Once Initial reactions transpired and commonalities exchanged, I had questions I would give:

-Can you explain why this makes you upset?

-Why isn’t sex talked about in church and why do people pull their children out of sexed classes in school? Do you think this is beneficial to them in the long run, why/why not?

-If sex-ed was reformed, would you allow your children to attend?

-What do you think about the dismissal and coverups of sexual predators within the institution? 

-Do you see similarities between priest defilement and sex aversion in Catholicism? If yes, what needs to change? If no, are you aware of either issue? 

-I miss participating in Catholic ceremonies, mass, and the sacraments, but I feel that the infrastructure is wildly corrupt. The priest I grew up listening to for 18 years was accused of sexual assault. I now consider myself a pansexual. How could I ever return to this faith and why aren’t many of these men serving crime in person? 

-Do you agree with sex-ed reform in public schools to include more, intermittent classwork and development? Would you condone gender and sexuality studies in this class? 

-Do you think the Catholic Church will ever consider reformation for the inclusion of more progressive practices, inclusion, and accommodations that meet modern advancements? 

Works Cited

Frazier, Latoya  Ruby. Campaign for Braddock Hospital . Pittsburgh, 2011.

Garland-Thomson, Rosemarie. Staring: How We Look. Oxford University Press, 2015.

“List of Women in the Bible.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 3 Dec. 2019, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_women_in_the_Bible.

Strassler, Karen. Refracted Visions: Popular Photography and National Modernity in Java. Duke Univ. Press, 2010.

[pulchrit-udinous]

Parking in Passion Pits is a pastime.

photo by Alyssa Maurer 

IG @alyssamaurerphoto

[al-the-photographer-blog]

I Need Time

I need patience 

I need kindness 

None of which I can give myself

Time is relished by those 

With luxuries to enjoy

To others, time is vengeful

Victims it employs   

The rich are spared, the guilty ensnared 

And the rest left to wonder

The hands tick 

The digits switch

They intersect and yet nothing clips

How do you change 

Or anticipate change when the representation of time is relentlessly the same 

We oil the clogs

cough in the smog 

then lear through at the faces 

kept above in cozy spaces 

who made this machine their ace in the hole  

At this moment 

And the next and the next

I’ll catch up and the next 

I’m here and the next

I am gone

Next

Only second-best 

Give your all, but others have rest 

They move forward while you’re put to the test 

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. 

Nothing. Ever. Stops

Wish with all your might if you must Mr. Rabbit 

But time is money and very few have it. 

[pulchrit-udinous]

Glitch ex gif file upload. I put together some of the artifacts from a similar line of compressions and movement. Here's the .gif file. 

The original image is of my uncle Mark as a child. The image was then juxtaposed with the corresponding image of cocaine. Unfortunately, my uncle was the victim of addiction and as the oldest he set a particularly horrific set of standards for the rest of his siblings. 

gif by Alyssa Maurer

ig @alyssamaurerphoto

[pulchrit-udinous]

 I don’t think I ever had the opportunity to post this on Tumblr, but hello friends. This is me and my work and me posing inside the work from last April. Long story short, my thesis was largely inspired by the growing pains of narcissism in accordance with social media. Essentially, I began my journey by exploring how phones act like mirrors, how social media feeds narcissism, and how this had affected myself and others. I was psycho analyzed for narcissism at the beginning of the project and exhibited 4/5 the five traits necessary for clinical diagnosis. When asked about the surprising prevalence of these traits, the analyst replied saying that it’s actually more commonplace than you think. Even though I painstakingly posed for each individual photograph, I can’t relate to these images as self-portraits; or portraits at all for that matter. They’re figments of a person battling a system that has forced people to rely on the value of their own reflection. The masks were fabricated by hand and taken from massively produced media advertisements. The artist statement for the work can be found below or on my website. This was almost a year ago now, but I do like remembering this project and others from my past. I hope you all can enjoy it.  

   Booby Trap is an ongoing examination exploring the rise of narcissism through media. We are constantly adding content to devices that are without exception, extensions of ourselves; what is liked, what is desirable, and how it is portrayed. The mundane is propagated, materialism flaunted, all in an attempt to falsely distinguish oneself. This work explores how the reflective, blackened screens of digital communication are just as destructive as the pool of water is to Narcissus, in Greek Mythology.      Booby Trap breaks down the harbingers of narcissism into factions; mirror, mask, container, and propaganda. The propaganda utilized is a collection of imagery intended to market a superficial, consumerist ideology that coincides with traits associated with narcissistic personality disorder. Taken from advertisements, magazines, and media sources, the images target audiences with materialistic ‘necessities’ and taglines that exploited individuality. Tailored into the exhibited masks, the photographs are intended to represent an obscured reality and disguise that narcissists exhibit. Among the nine key traits that make up narcissistic personality disorder, almost five of the traits can be observed while assimilating with this type of imagery. The five traits encountered are grandiosity, belief in uniqueness, sense of entitlement, preoccupation with successfulness, and envy. Coincidentally, in order to be diagnosed, an individual only needs to exhibit five of the nine traits. Currently, it is estimated that nearly every person is on the spectrum of being a narcissist with the average person exhibiting three to four traits, out of five, in order to be diagnosed. The rise of narcissism contributes heavily toward the inability to distinguish reality from a simulation. This impending mirage can be seen through the vain attempts at self-portrayal through digital media. -Alyssa Maurer, 2018 

[pulchrit-udinous]

@alyssamaurerphoto

http://www.alyssamaurerphoto.com

Do not remove above text

I recently went through my grandmother’s personal stash of photographs. She kept all of these memories in a box under her bed. Now, she has downsized into a smaller apartment by recommendation from her healthcare professional after being diagnosed with Alzheimers. She’s sill sharp as a tack when she talks to me, but my mother says that there are instances where she gets confused. I don’t see them. Then again, I’m not around all the time like I used to be. Memory is a funny think. There are memories we choose to forget, others we can never escape, and many that are stolen from us.

This is a polaroid of my uncle Don and aunt Deb. The image was found with the inscription and doodle intact. I did not draw on this image. I’m merely presenting it to you all as it was.

[pulchrit-udinous]

Here’s a little piece of some pie that I’m working on. I’ve been doing a lot of Collage work. Please do not delete this text and paste your own crud in here, please, please, please! 

art by Alice

Insta @alyssamaurerphoto

website @ http://www.alyssamaurerphoto.com

[pulchrit-udinous]

From today’s MFA studio time, here’s something that I’ve been working on for the past week. It is a combined media piece, so be gentle with her. Please do not delete this text and paste your own crud in here, please, please, please!

art by Alice

Insta @alyssamaurerphoto

website @ http://www.alyssamaurerphoto.com

[pulchrit-udinous]

So, today was weird and Fall seems to have given up.

It went straight into winter today. It was frigid and my studio doesn’t heat very well. I was stuck on the top floor of an eight story building with little circulating heat and the overwhelming expectation that I would create something related to art.

 I am pleased to inform you all that some version of art-magic did happen during that time frame. However, I fear that I’m not making art at the capacity that I used to. I was once able to do 5-10 versions of a selected work between 4 hours. Now, I am seeing that my practice is slower, more meditative than before. I’m not creating multiples of something simply to get it done with. Instead, I am taking the time to observe what I am making, how/ why it manifested, and where the motivation for a particular work delineated . 

[pulchrit-udinous]

Graduate School...meh

I had five days off this past week to do some reading and I barely did any reading, but I did get to see my family and that’s what matters. I am so very lonely right now and the world is just too bold. 

Leaving my dongle and 64gb memory card in someone else’s car was seriously unfortunate. So, now I lay on the floor of my bedroom typing to you all and  trying to come up with new ideas to present for my next studio critique. The pressure is on, my heart is racing, and I have to poop really bad. 

[al-the-photographer-blog]

For all have sinned and fall short on the glory of God

Work by Alyssa Maurer @alyssamaurerphoto & www.alyssamaurerphoto.com

[al-the-photographer-blog]

Tender knots 

Fascinated by the shape of you, I long to return to that place of warmth and solace. I yearn for the pulsating sweetness of your blood, like leaking honey, to set rhythms for my body to synchronize. I wish to recount all the tender knots you spun inside me over the years just below my diaphragm. Let me give them back twice over in splendid, chaotic disarray by filling up the vacancy I’ve built inside you. 

Mixed Media Collage by Alyssa Maurer @alyssamaurerphoto & www.alyssamaurerphoto.com

[al-the-photographer-blog]

Freedom

[al-the-photographer-blog]

Constriction

Concurrent MFA thesis and studio work. I think I’ve finally figured out what my thesis and body of work is centered around. I’m looking forward to the future finally.  

[al-the-photographer-blog]

#calloffsickaf, Joseph Aaron Long, or Loverboy, hanging the cross upside down