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tristanlovesthequeen · 3 years

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Something Smart

Tristan Arcelona

Claire Daigle

Minding the Canon HTCA-502-01

11/30/16

Artist as Purveyor of the Contemporary Landscape

The first time I saw a representation of Salvador Dali's “The Persistence of Memory” was in a cartoon on Nickelodeon called “Tiny Toons.” I forget the exact scene but somehow this image stayed with me and has pervaded popular culture since its inception. Dali first came up with the idea during a after a dinner party with his wife, Gala and some artist friends. After dinner the group decided to go to the cinema and Dali decided to hang back. He sat at the head of the table observing a loaf of Camembert cheese and pondering the super soft texture of it. He sat down and began to work at the painting. It was almost complete upon the return of his wife. Upon seeing it she proclaimed that it was a sight impossible to be unseen.

The simplicity of the initial concept of soft cheese was then taken to the next step through Dali's hyper paranoiac conceptualism and then taken even further by art critics, theorists, and historians who believed it had to do with Einstein's theory of relativity. Later on in Dali's career he began to paint about this topic, with the advent of nuclear physics and string theory, molecular structures and DNA mapping. This is an instance of artist creating a brand, and the symbiotic relationship between the supply chain and the demand creating new technologies, hybridized paintings, and advancement in concept. Dali drifted between faith systems his entire life, finding sources of inspiration and exploring them, sharing his findings and experiments through the medium of art. What started as landscape and portraiture evolved into impressionism then cubism and then his most famous surrealist stage. This period explored the concept of dream reality and meaning of dream symbols which directly connected him to the theories of Sigmund Freud. When criticized by fellow surrealists as purely a commercial painter, he denounced surrealism, needing only his wife Gala. He lived a life in the spotlight through wars, moving from Europe to New York and back again. He progressed the ideas explored in surrealism to scientific theorems and in the tail end of his career he became more of a faith based painter.

Sometimes the mythology of a painting's creation is more interesting than the painting itself. It's reputation precedes it and therefore it achieves high levels of fame. One such painting is “Dance at the Moulin de la Galette” by Renoir. The Moulin de la Galette was a popular dance hall/ bar/ restaurant for the impressionists to meet in Montmarte Paris, France during the late 1800's. Pierre Auguste Renoir had a studio nearby. Legend has it that everyday he would carry the canvas with a friend down to the Moulin de la Galette and set up his easel.

Renoir leased a studio at 12 Rue Cortot, in April 1875. It came furnished and had two floors, where he lived with his brother. He made several studies at the Moulin de la Galette. Renoir's civil servant friend Georges Riviere writes how friends helped carry the canvas back and forth “We would carry this canvas every day from the rue cortot to the moulin, because the painting was executed entirely on the spot. This was not without difficulties, when the wind blew and the big canvas threatened to fly away like a kite over the Butte.” (pg. 64)

Renoir used his friends and acquaintances from all walks of life as models. He had a favorite female sitter, whose name was Jeanne and was sixteen who refused the main role in the painting but appears later in life as the main character in “The Swing.” Instead, her sister Estelle models the pink and blue ribbon dress.

Renoir went through a period in his life where he and his fellow impressionist compatriots were penniless. Renoir combated this period in his life by writing letters to friends asking for money, also by staying with fellow artists such as Monet. It seemed the impressionist vision was fading with the salon show actually losing money and his artist group parting ways. His main gallerist Durand-ruel closed his London location and it seemed that all was lost. Famished, Renoir started painting portraits and with a stroke of luck and genius, he was able to make the acquaintance of one of Duret's friends Deudon, who was a wealthy lawyer and owner of a clothing store Old England. Duedon comissioned him to paint a mural in his estate, a portrait of Madame Duedon and five of his finished pieces.

This granted Renoir passage to build upon what he had been pursuing with his portrait studies to create the symphony of motion and light that we know as Bal du Moulin de la Galette. After exhibiting, he was able to land several published reviews as was the style at the time. However, instead of advancing his process and concept, the reviews were mostly negative, 2/6 were favorable.

Most of Renoir's paintings are figurative, all signifying spacial pictoral depth. Some are landscape. Now they seem highly unoriginal, the best part about them being the color and motion of brushstroke. His model choice changed slightly over the years, yet remained mostly young white women, beginning with light red hair and progressing to black. He undeniably had a type, at his worst remained a blank, doll-like expression. Even in the Bal du Moulin de la Galette, his most populated painting, it looks as though the main female model repeats over and over as though she were dancing with her clones. However, he combats this with the dappled shadows from the overhanging branches, the representation of the contemporary styles of the time, and the bright and sunny disposition of all the participants of the scene. One cannot help but feel nostalgic for a period that would not have existed if the Impressionists had not imagined and created it.

Advance time about a hundred years or more and we find Bruce la Bruce's movie Super 8 1/2. This movie is a mockumentary based on a queer fetishistic porn producer's life and work. Things have changed since the 90's, with the advancement of the internet interrupting basically every aspect of our lives. Porn is everywhere. This movie is reminiscent of John Waters' tongue in cheek reality. The stars are not perfect right wing citizens, they are “underground” and rife with problems, and we see how very real they are. The main character takes after Andy Warhol, he has taken to alcoholism and lives in a dingy room with aluminum colored space blankets on the walls. He is always in a state of heartbreak and his relationships with his costars are argumentative and violent.

Googie is an adventurous porn producer who finds her subjects in mysterious ways. She finds a lesbian couple hooking up in a graveyard and casts them as her new stars. A confessional interview shows them talking about their threesomes with strangers and hatred for hetero cis men. They like to “fuck them, and fuck with their minds.” Wednesday and Friday describe going into clubs with a pair of scissors and cutting off straight men's ponytails. They aren't serious strippers, they are quirky and take their sexuality and dancing with a slight humorous bend.

The stars are full of themselves and obsessed with fame. Their egos cause them to blow up in violent outbursts at each other and exploit each other. The difference between Bruce la Bruce's porn and every other run of the mill porn filmed in New York or the valley, is that these stars have been given credit for being avant garde art stars. One such plot is Bruce driving an old Jaguar down a a desolate country road and hitting a hitchhiker. He gets out of the car to check on the man who he has hit and ends up getting a blowjob when he regains consciousness. The movie concludes with the stranger throwing up on the side of the road and Bruce hopping back in the car and driving away.

A movie directed by Googie and starring Wednesday and Friday, the two lesbian “sisters,” pictures them holding a man up with a WWII army beretta, lubing up his rear and shoving the covered pistol in his behind. They finish him off by stripping him bare in the brush, powdering him and equipping him with a diaper.

The movie is a black comedy. Visually it is devoid of colour. Needless to say, it is weighty in its stark portrayal of a scene that is hardly ever represented in the main stream without being over glorified. It is an industry, much like the meat industry, that remains invisible in its process, yet is pervasive throughout history, since the dawn of photography. It has it's parallels in the art scene, with painters and photographers alike representing models who may or may not have participated in porn shoots. The credit goes to the artist usually, with the model being a conduit to his concept, and it is impossible to see how much the subject actually contributed to the process and final image.

Eventually we see Bruce's participation in the industry drowning him in sorrow. He stumbles around the courtyard of an insane asylum in black doc martens, white pants, and a white straight jacket. He has been exploited to no end, what was supposed to save his career, the interviews and collaborations, actually detrimented from it. His friend describes him as losing touch with reality, blurring the line between his movies and his waking life. We see him shellshocked on camera dropping a line of infinite wisdom and rebuking it, attempting to cover his tracks, rephrasing it as if it can be edited out of the space time continuum.

The film is filmed in low-fi black and white with almost no budget. Needless to say, it is an art film. It documents a sub culture that concerns itself with a subversive beauty, that the mainstream is dangerous. It takes hard work no matter what you do, whoever said being a pornstar is easy? We see the image of a young black man on a benchpress, the director condemning him for not being able to get it up, that he has had “Three fluffers already.” That the price of fame might be the price of your mental well being, that the more one departs from mainstream society the more danger one welcomes into their personality. That somehow being beautiful and volatile gives you control over others, it creates a desire in them to do your will. However, it is only tolerable for a short period of time. Misery loves company but it also attracts a certain type of self aware genius. We are only comfortable with our avarice in the midst of a reflection, and when that reflection starts to change we are disgusted and need to move on. We accept that life is hard and must accept the most gruesome of challenges because our ability to tolerate and moderate these events bring us a sense of personal satisfaction, the sense of grit to survive. The fear always lies with our insecurities. When will this life bring me under? How much is too much? In this industry, pain and substance abuse go hand in hand. In theory, the dampening of the limbic system allows us to surpass the constant onslaught of painful memories. What is actually happening is quite the opposite. How one chooses to combat these issues or feelings depends on a personality type or a type of abuse someone has endured in the past, whether it was mental, physical or sexual. Occasionally people attempt to welcome back this type of abuse into their lives, they put themselves in situations that repeat or glorify an abusive situation and it becomes a cycle without rebirth leading to their ultimate destruction and downfall. Given the right willpower, resources, and technique one can break this cycle. Life is not without pitfalls and setbacks, but only if we take them that way. This can lead us further into space or further equip us to deal with life has to offer us.

Ultimately society was not built to do us any favors. The kind of free sexual rebellion that this movie introduces is somewhat refreshing somewhat stale. It shows us that this behavior might not land us in prison, but might lead us to a sort of mental exile where we feel alien to the world. The world has offered us an escape from mainstream only to find that we are caught in another mainstream. Crimes against humanity are rampant wherever we go and it is not until we accept them as part of our culture that we find any release.

Tony smith created the steel sculpture “Die” in 1968 with the intention of representing the “square root” of six. It is literally six by six feet, metaphorically representing death by being six feet deep and a six foot box. It is brooding in its intentionality, also seems to be a means to an end goal of traveling to New York. The NGA describes the piece as “embracing the heroic and humanistic attitudes associated with abstract expressionist art of the 1950's,” however I would describe the movement as one filled mostly with a sense of white male machismo. How could he have not noticed the gigantic black cube in the middle of Jerusalem called the Kaaba which houses the holy book of the Q'uuraan? Millions of people flock to the religious site each year to pay homage to the prophet Muhammad. Arguably, this is an even larger homage to organized religion and the prowess of another man of a separate ethnicity. Both cubes are homages to death, one is immensely popular and other remains a mirror of a small dying culture, we shall presume the reader knows which one is which.

Sometimes art is less conceptual as a metaphor for what is already present in life, and turns into a science project that invigorates the future of materiality, which is what all visual art media is based. Traditional materials are often decided by trends in the economy, sudden turns of fate determine which path is chosen and which materials will become the new norm. What replaced the steam engine with the gasoline powered motorcar and what replaced paper made from trees instead of hemp, was usually a rich investor that decided it was easier to pollute than to create something that is sustainable and equally as useful. What we have now is a bunch of overworked, underpaid employees that are just as polluted in their minds as the environments lakes and rivers.

Iris van Herpen is a designer that falls into a new genre of material futures. Material futures deals with finding a category of unsustainable or overused materiality, whether it be, organs, meat that we eat, or clothes that we wear. She creates new fabrics that are produced using 3d scans and furthermore printed and stitched by hand and machine to create designs reminiscent of HR Giger meets fairy princess, Hufflepuff meets Slitheryn in Harry Potter fan lore. She is conducting science with the touch of a skilled wizard, producing new leather from cow cells and lightweight fabrics lighter than silk. This technology continues to progress around the world. Her theory is not that we should be creating new wearable technologies that are stylistically unsound, meant to connect us to the outside world without bringing anything new to the physical realm. Her textures and textiles connote that we can represent how we feel and what we have experienced through a suit that we wear. 3D printing is becoming more accessible, to the point that people could do it “if they could only find the time.” If Iris van Herpen ever becomes mainstream we might not find the time to leave the house in the morning, staring at our reflections, robing and disrobing again until we can find the right form to describe our ever changing mood.

As it so happens, Iris van Herpen interned for Alexander McQueen, a famous English fashion designer who has died but his name still rings on. Before his death in 2010, he put together a show called VOSS, in which models were to reenact the mentality of being in an inpatient unit. Models shaped like gazelles stumble around in high heels looking posh and sleek with some sort of headdress that looks as though they have strapped pantyhose to their heads. Kate moss fumbles at the walls, which, are double sided mirrors, the audience can see in but none of the models on the runway can see out. The models, while nice to look at, sporting some amazing designs by McQueen, are perhaps not the most interesting part of the show. The climax comes, as the large rectangular rhombus in the center of the room comes crashing open, glass shatter and butterflies spread everywhere, fluttering about in the light. The main character, unclear whether she is the protagonist/ antagonist, reclines nude inside the cube, sporting a gas mask with concord wings a precursor to a character in Mad Max Fury Road.

It just so happens that this model is Michelle Olley, a London based writer and magazine editor who specializes in culture. She was a key figure in queer and fetish culture in the 80's and 90's and has since hopped around from job to job and now works as content manager for Turner Broadcasting's Adult Swim. On her blog, she describes the experience of being involved in the project. The all around stress she was under and the real life torture she felt being kept in the box.

“If it weren’t for yoga I’d be in absolute agony by now. I can’t move much because moving breaks wings; my lower leg is dead after about twenty minutes on the chair. I’ve got at least an hour and a half alone in here, and that’s if the show starts on time, which of course they never, ever do. After about another fifteen minutes my right shoulder, which is leaning on a cushion, starts to ache. I’m clutching onto Stephen’s best scalpel—which I need to slash open the butterfly net that contains 250 live moths and butterflies. I’m holding the net in my other hand trying to keep it still so I don’t disturb them. The radio earpieces are throbbing—they’ve been hurting since they wrapped the bandages round them. It’s not too bad in the mask. I can breathe OK. The temperature is awful, though. They need to keep it cold in there so that the moths will remain still/placid. Cold air is being piped in, as when the lights go on at showtime, it’s going to get really hot. The cold air is giving me goose bumps and making the glue/moth parts all around my body really itchy. My head’s hot, my body’s freezing. Time to test whether they really are listening at all times. I ask Anna to turn off the air con and they agree to give it a rest for ten minutes. I have no idea how long it took to shut it off or low long it was off for, but it wasn’t enough. Before I know it, the pipes are blowing again—sending another flurry of broken wings and antennas off me and I’m shivering. Anna tells me they’re running about twenty minutes late (it was about an hour to the official start by this point). By this stage I have no idea how long I’ve been in there, or how long I have left. Time has ceased to be quantifiable. I’m too focused on not thinking about my discomfort, not getting emotional, saying warm and not thinking about the fact I was busting for a pee. I just wanted desperately to get it over with. Sometime later Anna calls to say it would be another fifteen minutes on top of the twenty (“We’re waiting for Gwyneth, who’s stuck in traffic”). Bring. It. On. Before getting in the box, I’d seen all the names on the chairs through the two-way mirrored glass. Paltrow was at my feet, next to Nick and Charlotte Knight; my backside was right to Isabella Blow, Grace Jones, Sharlene from Texas and Ronnie and Jo Wood. Could they tell I was hatching a radio mic? I’d also spotted Tracy Chapman, Tracey Emin and Jake Chapman’s names on the chairs. My early comment about “doing it for art” was coming true in an unexpected fashion...

No, it’s the art thing again. I want people to know what I just went through wasn’t a breeze and I did it for art. Yes, art. Because I believe it’s worth going through that much palaver if it creates a strong image that conveys an important idea. And I believe that the idea that we are trapped by our “civilized,” socially approved identities is massively important. It causes women so much suffering. Fear of aging, fear of not being thin enough. Fear of not having the right clothes. Fear of our animal natures that we carry in our DNA—fish, bird, lizard, insect, mammal. We’ve never had it more techno, we’ve never needed it more human. We humans living now still cannot turn ourselves into perfect beings, no matter how long we spend at the gym, beauty parlour, shops, etc.”

Sometimes it takes a whole orchestra of behind the scenes folks to get a project realized. Sometimes it is only a handful of people who receive the credit for a massive undertaking such as this. Why is Tracy Chapman still relevant? Because she is involved with the culture. And when all is said and done, however equally distributed the pain and strife of the work that was completed, we still live in a world where Benjamin Franklin is accredited with the discovery of electricity. Perhaps McQueen would have not felt so weighed down by the responsibility of stardom if the attention received for such a project was distributed with more equity. Michelle Olley still learned a valuable lesson in body image from the experience of participating in the project, so it seems that process can be the most important part of creation.

Haruki Murakami writes in his novel Kafka on the Shore, “That’s why I like to listen to Schubert while I’m driving. Like I said, it’s because all the performances are imperfect. A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I’m driving, I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of—that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally, I find that encouraging.”

Contemporary art seems to operate solely upon this concept, that there are continuous builds based upon the notion that everything here is imperfect. Competition is based on this nodule that human kind has something to prove, that there is somehow something better to be strived for. Competition within contemporary art pushes boundaries of what is conceptual, accepted, what element of art history the piece is derived from, and what new materials can be used. Since there is no purpose in striving for perfection, it eliminates the competition within the art world. What is left is abstract free flowing ideas. Competition in the art world, it seems only exists within the art market. Survival of the fittest is based on who has the latest advancement in technology “who has the biggest guns” and who can obtain the largest chunk of the economy. Eventually people try to compensate by dumping the largest amount of money into a particular project, here size of the object, materiality, location, and finish come into play. What is left can be impactful, just because of the immense capabilities of one particular artist.

The Japanese synth composer Yuzo Koshiro, who is famous for his video game scores during the 90's describes this concept when being called the king of FM synthesis. “It’s an honour for me. Though there are a lot of people who use the FM synth well. As I said before, in terms of game music... Trying to use an FM synth with MIDI had so many restrictions. I don’t think people could use the chip to its full potential exactly as they wanted. Since I made my own editor and driver, I could control everything about the chip down to the fine details. So I think that’s why I was able produce that level of sound. I definitely don’t think I’m great at making quality tones though. Being able to control every little thing freely was one of the main reasons I received that kind of praise.” Koshiro was able to fine tune his process by using his own tools, which he developed, using his own ideal of how he saw the future. Still, he believes the final product was not the embodiment of perfection. He finds that the more one plays through a video game with the music that he has composed, the more the melodies grow on us.

“Is it the quiet shore of contemplation that I set aside for myself, as I lay bare, under the cunning, orderly surface of civilizations, the nurturing horror that they attend to pushing aside by purifying, systematizing, and thinking; the horror that they seize on in order to build themselves up and function? I rather conceive it as a work of disappointment, of frustration and hollowing—probably the only counterweight to abjection. While everything else –its archaeology and its exhaustion—is only literature: The sublime point at which the abject collapses in a burst of beauty that overwhelms us—and that cancels our existence” Kristeva.

Kristeva's “Powers of Horror” is a long, drawn out study on the abject. How she was able to complete such a tour de force is beyond us, which is probably why it seems so intelligent. She was able to sustain concentration on the most unbearable subjects, and most art students, given the the task of completing the entire transcript, are unable to do so. If there is one positive concept to be derived from this reading, it is that the abject is necessary in small doses, in order to achieve the opposite. What disrupts and disgusts us can make us believe that there is an opposite. That notion is described in the quote as the sublime.

If we look at the hollowness of space as terrifying, then we see why people decide to huddle together within city walls. We condense only to realize that this too, can be perceived as abject, and in the instance, we decide to disperse. In this way, the feeling of abjection can flip flop, all at once describing the fickle nature of the human personality, and the lightness of being alive.

“Women artists are more inward-looking, more delicate and nuanced in their treatment of their medium, it may be asserted. But which of the women artists cited above is more inward-turning then Redon, more subtle and nuanced in the handling of pigment than Corot? Is Fragonard more or less feminine than Mme. Vigee-Lebrun? Or is it not more a question of the whole Rococo style of eighteenth-century France being "feminine," if judged in terms of a binary scale of "masculinity" versus "femininity"? Certainly, if daintiness, delicacy, and preciousness are to be counted as earmarks of a feminine style, there is nothing fragile about Rosa Bonheur's Horse Fair, nor dainty and introverted about Helen Frankenthaler's giant canvases. If women have turned to scenes of domestic life, or of children. so did Jan Steen, Chardin, and the Impressionists-- Renoir and Monet as well as Morisot and Cassatt. In any case, the mere choice of a certain realm of subject matter, or the restriction to certain subjects, is not to be equated with a style, much less with some sort of quintessentially feminine style.”

Traditionally, throughout history, most of the credit of winning has been given to men. Credit is sometimes equated to fame, such as Alexander McQueen's stylistic designs and art shows, where there are numerous participants. However, what equates fame? How do we quantify how well known something is? If something that lives in our hearts is more important than fame, how is it that we measure? Many ideas presented in the art history canon have been proposed by women first. We see this in the example of Carolee Schneemann's “Meat Joy” and also “Up to and Including Her Limits.” Matthew Barney used the same ideas in his piece “Drawing Restraint” several years later and arguably received more credit. He is also referencing his “personal mythology,” which might include pieces that Schneemann has produced. Meat Joy creates a scene where the body is abjectly presented as a vessel of meat, flesh we consume is also the flesh we destroy, and the theme of abject flesh is now popularized in contemporaries like Jenny Saville. Where once upon a time it was popular to idealize the human form, it is now popular to debunk the myth of a perfect form and present the new ideal as a medley of body types and human characteristics, not ignoring the ever presence of the abundance of flesh, and bodily fluids. In terms of art, the gender of the object is attributed to whomever created it, no matter how rugged or polished the piece may be. The independence of women artists does not suggest that they did not particularly belong to a certain school or class of artists, it just means that they were not recognized for being there. Since the presence of art history is also based upon the presence of critics and historians, the relationships between these individuals and the people they chose to represent is important too. The interpersonal relationships amongst individuals in the art world also influence who receives a review. Ana Mendietta is mostly recognized for her relationship with Carl Andre, as Lucian Freud is mostly recognized because he is grandson to Sigmund Freud. Not to say either is necessarily without talent, which is quite the opposite, however people are recognized mostly from their upbringing and what circles they revolve in.

Which leaves me believing something is missing within the art world and the world at large. We all experience the sense of the void, which is a mirror of the total amount of dark matter in the universe. There is something amiss, and we are not quite sure what it is. The Fifth Element addresses this concept, with the notion that there is a missing element that will save the universe. With designs by Jean Giraud Moebius and Jean Paul Gaultier, this french cult classic is one of the most visually stunning movies to date.

The plot revolves around the main character Korben Dallas and his relationship with the embodiment of the fifth element, Leeloo. She is a fanboy's dream, a young model actress that does not speak English, is the visage of perfection but does not have any visual or cultural preference of her own to speak of, nor any knowledge of who she is or what humans are. Besides this general monotony, she contains an element that is activated by a particular piece of knowledge. What Korben Dallas teaches her, is the concept of love. This is the final unifying element in the universe, the one that clarifies the dream, and brings light to an otherwise dark place. No matter what your belief system is, if you are a human, animal, sentient being, this rings true. What is the essence of life, what is the point of materiality if there is no feeling there?

With my own work, I feel a sense of displacement usually rather than belonging. A jumble of ideas are mashed together usually to bring a solution to some sort of negativity, in order to see the light shine through. Many artists use their art as a way to connect on a broader spectrum, in this way I am no different. I find that personally I connect best at a small scale, one or two people rather than a huge group. Limiting options of who to talk to can create a stronger bond, as if limiting one's palate, in order to know what is truly motivating one's soul.

With what I create, I tend to maximize my reference points. I create a mashup of things I have experienced, usually told in the form of a fable created through symbolism of images derived from 90's pop culture. Perhaps this is me bringing to the forefront the notion of keeping my childhood alive, by subliming memories of contemporary life. Art can be about breaking free of limits, so my process constantly changes to remove myself from an XY axis and a grid, to constantly build and destroy, to remove anger, hate, and turn it into love.

This semester I have learned a few things about the art world and art school in specific. There are a few key tropes that reoccur and navigating them is mostly about the language used to describe them. For example, using the word umwelt for someone's personal bubble; using the term post humanism when someone really means Sci-fi; structuralism for patterns that repeat; anthropocene for the current affect of global warming. Part of the interchangeability of words to describe these things has to do with the malleability of the ideas themselves. As we saw with Salvador Dali's study of string theory, different personal views conjure up different worlds. The study of these worlds leads us on our own personal journeys. We envelop these concepts and let the future unfold, perhaps we use art as the mechanism to advance human kind. I always thought of art as some kind of pseudo-science, now I can say that these things are interchangeable, art can be science, theory, personal reflection, fortune telling, and the economy. The mythology that leads us here today can change time.

Works Cited

Barbara Ehrlich White, Renoir His Life Art and Letters. 1984. Harry N. Abrams, Inc. New York

NGA.gov for tony smith's die

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/08/t-magazine/iris-van-herpen-designer-interview.html?_r=0

http://blog.metmuseum.org/alexandermcqueen/michelle-olley-voss-diary/

http://daily.redbullmusicacademy.com/2014/09/yuzo-koshiro-interview

The fifth element

#Tristan Chase Arcelona

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dweemeister · 5 years

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Best Animated Short Film Nominees for the 92nd Academy Awards (2020, listed in order of appearance in the shorts package)

Since 2013 on this blog, I have been reviewing the Oscar-nominated short films for the respective Academy Awards ceremony. This is one of my favorite traditions for the “31 Days of Oscar” marathon I hold yearly, and I recommend to all my North American followers to seek these shorts out (see this) – they have just released to theaters as of this review’s publication and the reach of each package’s distribution increases every year. As a one-off for the 92nd Academy Awards, the Oscars are being held on their earliest weekend ever, giving everyone less time to see the nominated shorts.

Without further ado, here are the Academy Award nominees for Best Animated Short Film. Three of the five are stop-motion animation. It’s a solid bunch and – despite the fact I have seen better nominee slates – all fully deserving of their nominations (it is rare I feel that way) in a tightly contested year. They are all, in some ways, featuring characters and showing how they connect to others.

Hair Love (2019)

Co-directed by Matthew A. Cherry (former executive at Jordan Peele’s Monkeypaw Productions); Everett Downing Jr. (a journeyman storyboard artist who has worked with Blue Sky, DreamWorks, Netflix, and Pixar); and Bruce W. Smith (creator of The Proud Family and former supervising animator with Walt Disney Animation Studios), Hair Love becomes what is most likely the second film in the history of the Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film to have significant involvement from a former professional athlete (Cherry; the first is probably 2017′s Dear Basketball). Distributed by Sony Pictures Animation following a Kickstarter campaign, Hair Love played in front of 2019′s The Angry Birds Movie 2 – talk about a disparity in quality. The film follows a young girl as she refers to a YouTube channel (this film showcases modern technology but does not, like many other animated films, date itself in its technological depictions) to style, if not tame, her hair. Her father – who appears to have little experience with cutting or styling hair – is hesitant to help his daughter, but they struggle and learn together. The final moments of Hair Love reveal that their time learning from these online tutorials extends beyond their bonds as father and daughter.

Hair Love, riding on Hollywood goodwill from figures rarely associated with animation, has been lauded for its depiction of black fatherhood. In American popular culture, black fathers in black-centric narratives have often been portrayed as abusive or absent. So to see the opposite in hand-drawn animation is a welcome sight. The daughter’s hair almost has a life of its own and is normalized (black hairstyles have long been otherized in the West); an abstract sequence where the father is doing combat with the out-of-control hair represents the awkwardness of this scenario – with zero dialogue – perfectly. For an animation studio ridiculed for releases like The Emoji Movie (2017), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) and Hair Love serve as partial correctives.

My rating: 8.5/10

NOTE: Hair Love can be seen on YouTube as of this review’s publication.

Dcera (Daughter) (2019, Czech Republic)

The Czech Republic can lay claim to being the home of the late Jiří Trnka, arguably one of the greatest, most innovative stop-motion animators of all time. Carrying that legacy forward is Daria Kashcheeva, a graduate of the Film and TV School of the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague (FAMU). Her graduation film, Dcera (“Daughter” in English), won a Student Academy Award and was deemed the best graduation film at the famed Annecy International Animated Film Festival (the most important all-animation film festival in the world). In Dcera, we find a young woman at the side of her father’s hospital bed, reminiscing about their relationship. Wordless and shot largely with a shaky camera and in close-up, we see several images from the woman’s childhood – how her father, barely scraping by with household duties, had little time to express his love to her. Dcera often breaks into literal flights of fancy and the daughter’s surrealistic imagination. And yet even when retreating into a world crafted so that she can escape, there is a longing to bring her father in.

Kashcheeva’s notes about Dcera elicit that she wished to accomplish an, “authentic immediacy and a para-documentary nature” to her film via the film’s constant close-up shots and low depth of field. She mostly succeeds; although the shaky camera is distracting and prevents the audience from forming an emotional connection with the characters onscreen. The stop-motion puppets appear to be made of papier-mâché and are intentionally rough –reflecting how difficult their lives have been and the innumerable imperfections of their personhood. The production design – when we are allowed to see it (the lack of production quality is not any fault of the film’s, considering that it is a graduation work) – resemble something from a lucid nightmare. Dcera is an outstanding feat of stop-motion stylization. In its final minutes, it seeks to understand and to forgive that which was never realized. Its emotional impact is imperfect, but its intentions nevertheless pack a wallop.

My rating: 7.5/10

Sister (2018)*

When the Chinese Communist Party brought an end to its one-child policy in 2015, it concluded a decades-long experiment that has left China in a demographic bind. Stemming from a decision made in 1979, the policy’s consequences include a skewed age disparity and sex ratio at birth that will affect the nation for more several decades. Siqi Song’s graduation film from CalArts, Sister, has the one-child policy in mind. The film, narrated by Bingyang Liu (no previous film credits) is a reflection by a man thinking about his life with his little sister. More than midway through Sister, the audience learns that the film is nothing more than speculation. In China even now, the one-child policy – since replaced by a two-child policy – has left its mark on numerous generations be they children, parents, grandparents. The film’s unique character design is wool-based, with its monochrome pallet recalling an older family photo album.

According to Song, the film’s story, “didn’t change from the very beginning. [She] always knew the film would be about a man imagining how his life might have been like had he had a little sister.” What did change while Song – a “little sister survivor” whose family made a tremendous effort to keep her a part of their family – made Sister were the stories of a brother and sister as the two grow up. The never-to-be siblings have their conflicts, as well as their moments of familial love. Not all of the ways this is depicted work, most notably the scene where the sister grows beyond her crib to become a giant looming over her brother (the metaphor here is too heavy-handed). Our narrator ponders whether he might have been a different person if his mother – pregnant with his younger sister, wanting very much to bear her – never had the policy-forced abortion. Given the trauma it inflicted on his mother, the narrator – even from an early age – will be left pondering this well into his adulthood. Is there regret in his narration? Guilt? I don’t have any answers, but I will leave it to those of Chinese descent to discern theirs.

My rating: 8/10

*Sister is entirely in Mandarin. For non-English language films, I usually list the film along with its country/countries of origin unless it was primarily an American production. Despite Sister being listed as an American/Chinese co-production by Song, I see no evidence of a Chinese studio backing the film. For record-keeping purposes, Sister will be deemed an American film.

Mémorable (2019, France)

Last year, Ireland’s famous Cartoon Saloon garnered acclaim for Louise Bagnall’s Late Afternoon. Late Afternoon, an expressionistic study in an elderly woman’s dementia, is a distant cousin to Bruno Collet’s Mémorable. Here, an artist named Louis (André Wilms) shifts between periods of remembrance and forgetfulness. His wife, Michelle (Dominique Reymond), tends to his needs and to his increasing disconnection to the things and people around him. If Louis has one fixture in his life, it is his painting – with brushes or, close to the end, with his fingers. Collet, noting the increase of short films – animated or otherwise – about dementia in recent years, indeed questioned the wisdom of yet another film about someone suffering from it. He then encountered the works of artist William Utermohlen. Utermohlen, like Louis, continued painting even as his dementia impaired his understanding of his surroundings, let alone his work. Collet, now convinced of the validity of his plans by learning of Utermohlen’s life, set straight to work on Mémorable.

Mémorable evolves as the film progresses. What seems like a straight stop-motion animated short film transforms itself as Louis’ dementia worsens. By the film’s end, Louis’ figure begins to melt into something like oil paints, making him a living Impressionist painting while others around become surreal on the terms of a Picasso or Dali. With Mémorable containing plenty of dialogue, none of this ever detracts from this short’s abstractions The film’s final moments – an uplifting dance scene between Louis and Michelle – is an extraordinary marriage of stop-motion animation and computerized animation. By then, Collet has depicted the progression of Louis’ dementia in as cinematic a way as possible using an array of styles that could not have been predicted within a twelve-minute animated short film. The technical daring of Mémorable and the strength of its artistic conceit is breathtaking to behold.

My rating: 9/10

Kitbull (2019)

If any animation studio has a history with animal, it is Disney. Released as one of Pixar’s “SparkShorts” – a program created in 2019 to foster the talents of Pixar’s younger animators to force them to make short films with limited resources – Rosana Sullivan’s Kitbull joins that esteemed company. Sullivan, a storyboard artist who worked on the likes of Monsters University (2013) and Incredibles 2 (2018), was previously training to be a veterinarian and had helped many pit bulls in clinics and shelters. She, “saw how sweet and gentle they could be, despite [her] initial fears.” Her work with unadopted black cats formed the other half of what would become Kitbull. In San Francisco’s Mission District, a scrawny kitten and a pit bull who is forced into dogfights (even the implication of dogfighting would render Kitbull ineligible for wide theatrical release by Disney executives, knowing their insistence on a sanitized brand) strike up a friendship.

The design of the kitten is not realistic, but it would not be believable if Kitbull was filmed as a stop-motion or CGI-animated film. The kitten’s unrealistic body proportions make it more appealing and the minimalism of the pit bull’s design (there is a minimum amount of lines used to trace its facial shape) is effective artistic economy. The pit bull is a type of dog in need of an image rehabilitation. Perceived the be among the most violent of dogs, pit bulls are anything but naturally violent and Kitbull plays into this misconception. Sullivan’s experience as a former veterinarian student are fused with themes of loneliness and trust-building. Cut down from an 18-minute-long storyboard to its nine-minute runtime, Kitbull is an efficiently told animated short film evoking the pathos of animal-centric Walt Disney Animation Studios’ feature- and short-length films of the 1930s and ‘40s.‡

My rating: 8/10

‡ Which, for younger readers that have not seen Disney films from those decades, should be taken as a high compliment.

NOTE: Kitbull can be seen on YouTube as of this review’s publication.

^ Based on my personal imdb ratings. Half-points are always rounded down.

From previous years: 85th Academy Awards (2013), 87th (2015), 88th (2016), 89th (2017), 90th (2018), and 91st (2019).

#Dcera #Hair Love #Kitbull #Memorable #Oscars #Sister #Daria Kashcheeva #Matthew A. Cherry #Everett Downing Jr.#Bruce W. Smith #Rosana Sullivan #Bruno Collet #Siqi Song #92nd Academy Awards #31 Days of Oscar #My Movie Odyssey

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pixl-king · 5 years

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Hello! I see you opening some request? I wanna request about superbat. Clark and Dick are known to Bruce to have puppy eyes whenever they want something. Maybe one day Bruce tries his puppy eyes to Clark? Mostly when they're alone together, because he doesn't want anyone knows that the mighty Batman has puppy eyes lol. Thank you!

Hi, thank you for the request! Here’s my take one it, it’s not as playful as it is fluffy and warm but I hope you like it anyway!

It was like any night really. The sun had been tugged down to the horizon and passed it several hours ago and there was only a light breeze that carded against the soft curtains next to the open window. They were white and soft, a stark contrast to the otherwise heavy oak and velvet furniture in the master office of Wayne manor. Clark laid on one of the couches by the small coffee table that stood in the centre of the room; he was reading one of the many books that were occupying the numbers of bookshelf. He’d made quite some progress in reading Bruce’s small library, had actually managed half a bookshelf the past few months. So really the night was no special. Bruce was by his desk working on god knows what, he wasn’t much of a work and chat person but that was something Clark had caught on to years ago. Now the silence was… Comfortable. It wasn’t tense or as broody anymore, even though most took it as just that. It had only been recently that the League had understood that it really wasn’t as bad as one might think.

Flash back a few hours ago when Clark came over for dinner with the Wayne family and he was pretty sure most of the table occupants would’ve been afraid to drop a toothpick too… Had it not been the Wayne family of course.

Damian had stayed mostly quiet and hadn’t made much noise at all really, except for some comments regarding Tim and silently on the food. Clark wasn’t entirely sure of what Tim had done or if the comment was just about the other boy in essence, but there wasn’t much else said. Jason had indulged in a lively conversation with Barbara at some point but he had also asked Clark about the upcoming missions that the League stood in front of, a bit criticising, but not too bad. Then Stephanie and Cassandra had talked for themselves across the table, and Dick had been the most keen to talk to Clark. Tim… Yeah Clark wasn’t sure if Tim had been awake where he sat next to Stephanie by the other end of the table. But the table was long and there had been a lot of conversation going so the mood had been nothing but good.

It was a strange, although sweet, gathering of family. And even though Bruce didn’t say much during it, Clark was quite sure that he saw a smile at least once.

So now Clark had ‘officially’ left the manor, as he laid on the office couch. Neither Bruce or Clark felt up to encouraging the kids to talk even more regarding the fact that his visits had increased quite some, to the point where he was now staying for dinner. So Clark had left and then re-entered through the office windows. A night like many others.

Clark had been sneaking into the manor many times, even before things in their relationship had changed. It spread a small and slightly cocky smile on Clark’s face as he remembered Bruce’s reaction to his first visits, unannounced. There had been quite the disapproval from the Dark Knight at first.

”Remember when I first started showing up here?” Clark said reminiscing, putting the book over his chest and craning his neck to check on the man by the desk.

Bruce didn’t stop with his scanning of papers or the way he sorted them into bundles, instead Clark got a small ”hmp” back, low enough for anyone else to miss.

”You were not happy the first time.” Clark laughed, ignoring the others passivity. As it was, it was a comfortable silence and a comfortable space anyway.

”It was impossible to get rid of you.” Bruce said by the desk.

”Well you’re a hard man to get through to, takes time.” Clark smiled softly. ”But I wouldn’t say that the outcome’s too bad, would you?” He looked from the book on his chest to Bruce again, lifting an eyebrow.

Bruce put down the papers momentarily to look back. A small smile spread over his lips, one not many saw or knew of. It wasn’t like the ’billionaire playboy’ smile that you saw in the papers. It wasn’t all teeth and lust, it wasn’t larger than life, and it wasn’t made for the cameras. This was just Bruce. And it was small and secretive. Conserved and rare. And Clarke felt his chest turn warm and soft from it. He was quite sure that he loved it.

”No.” Bruce replied simply before looking back at his files. The shuffling of them continued and the slight breeze that had almost frozen as their eyes met continued. Clark couldn’t help smiling to himself, and he kept smiling, as he went back to his book.

—

“Dismissed.” Batman called out to the League before people got up to leave. Diana and Arthur walked along Barry who had indulged them in a vivid description of what Metallica was and how they had to check it out. Clark chuckled at the scene as Hal hurried after and started to protest.

The world was surprisingly calm and somehow that wasn’t unnerving for once. It was to the point where Clark was considering taking a small vacation, maybe head home to say hi to ma’. The world seemed to rotate in peace, he thought as the globe spread out before him by the view of the watchtower.

“What are you doing?”

Clark was pulled from his gaze by the familiar voice that had made its way next to him. Bruce was still wearing his mask and stood there looking at him, then back to earth. “Do you think something’s happening?” He asked gravely and looked out, as if looking for trouble.

Clark sighed but put on a smile, “No, not at all.”

He said it with a light and happy tone, but the reaction he got was a low and heavy sigh from Bruce that left him confused. But he didn’t get the chance to ask what caused the reaction before the man had turned and was walking towards the exit of the tower.

“We’re still having dinner tonight?” Clark dared calling out after him as it seemed everyone had left (plus Clark had listened to check), that and he also secretly enjoyed the way Bruce tensed at the words. Like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar he looked around them and then scowled at Clark. He didn’t answer but continued walking.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Clark continued with a laughter under his words.

“Don’t be late.” Bruce replied, always relying on Clark to catch it with his super-hearing.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Clark replied, mostly to himself as it seemed Bruce had already left through the Zeta-tube.

Dinner that night took place at Wayne manor once again, yet it was far less lively. It seemed that every member of the household had left on other activities, and those who did not reside at the manor were not visiting either.

So when Clark did arrive he was met with a table for two by the patio rather than the grand dining table inside. It was set with candles, silverware and a small rose. And whilst this was all very nice, Clark felt as if something was off as dinner went on. Bruce seemed to try and bring something up every now and then but instead of continuing the topic he averted it by asking how the food was. By the end of the main course Clark was sure he’d heard that question three times already.

Once Alfred brought out desert, however, Clark didn’t dare wait to be asked how desert was. So instead he took the opportunity when Bruce took a sip of his wine. He put down his spoon and looked at the man in front of him, “What’s up?”

Bruce looked like he almost choked on some wine and had to struggle keeping his composure as he put down the glass again. “What?” He asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“You’ve been trying to say something all night but you keep asking me how dinner was, it’s great by the, as I’ve said the last few times. Alfred’s a great cook.”

Bruce looked uncomfortable for a second, which in itself was unnerving and Clark had to consider if something actually was wrong. It didn’t suit the man in front of him at all.

“Eh- Hm.” Bruce cleared his throat and pulled a hand through his hair before he looked at Clark. “Stephanie has been asking for… vacation.”

Clark felt a bit stumped at the sudden comment and looked at Bruce a bit confused, “Well that’s great… Or, is it?” He asked confused.

Bruce sighed, “She wants us all to go.”

Clark still didn’t see the problem, and had to admit he was feeling rather mute. Bruce must’ve picked up on it and looked away slightly annoyed. Clark watched and he would’ve fallen off his chair had his body been able to move, but as he looked at Bruce he caught sight of a slight redness spreading out over the man’s face. Bruce Wayne was officially blushing.

“She has for some reason asked that you will join us.” Bruce said grumpily and Clark was sure that he refused meeting his eyes intentionally.

“Me?” Clark asked confused, still a bit taken aback by the view.

“Yes.” Bruce replied.

Clark struggled for a few seconds to find the words, he opened his mouth put all that came was a few puffs of air. The silence dragged out for some moments until Clark felt that his body could settle into something a bit more secure again.

“Do you want me to come?” He asked, eyes still on the man who wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Bruce shifted, “It’d be irresponsible by the league to have the both of us gone during the same time. There’s a large risk in it, but it seems that Stephanie has spread the words and now a few of them are… Requesting the same thing…”

“A few?”

“I believe master Dick phrased it as the ultimate vacation and that miss Barbara has quite the few request on tourist attractions you should be going along on.” Alfred suddenly showed up by their side and started taking the plates, Bruce seemed to almost roll his eyes at the comment. It was a similar one to the time that the kids had showed up with Clark’s S on all of their t-shirts.

Nonetheless Clark thanked Alfred and looked back to Bruce once the butler disappeared. He was looking out to the garden and there were still traces of red trailing his cheekbones that made something soften inside of Clark.

“You still didn’t answer my original question.” Clark said calmly.

Bruce huffed, “I’ve already told you what I think of it.”

“That it’d be bad for the League.”

“Yes.”

“What about us?”

Bruce didn’t do anything else but look out at their surrounding. The silence around them held the question that the Dark Knight seemed to reject. At which Clark sighed.

“I think you’re kids will have an excellent time with you.” He said with a voice of warmth but there was a slight disappointment inside that he couldn’t quite shake. But then again, he couldn’t expect too much. After all he had only read half a bookcase so far and there were many more to go.

Bruce didn’t reply even though he looked like he was about to. He stayed quiet, chewing on his own thoughts.

“They asked for you to come.”

“I know.”

“You should come.”

“Why?”

Bruce turned to him, a look of irritation slightly grabbing at his expression. Clark just looked back at him. There was a small leverage here that he did not hope to loose, because there was everything to gain.

“I want you to come.” Bruce said, still looking severe but the edges were softening and there was room for something else.

Clark’s smile widened in tact with his stomach feeling warm. Bruce was not a man to invite people to see him asking for things, because well, he didn’t. Bruce got what he wanted, that’s how he worked. That’s why he and Clark worked. Because Clark was one of the few that’d challenge that.

So with a bit of mischief behind his motives he continued. “What about the League?” It was a stretch but Clark was a curious man and he couldn’t argue otherwise.

Bruce sighed in exasperation, shaking his head. It took almost a minute before he turned back again. “Can you please come with us?” He asked, hard edges peeled away, leaving way for something soft and genuine. Clark felt as if someone stolen the air in his lungs as he was met with two blue eyes, clearer than the sky, a sky that mostly stayed clouded. It made Clark feel dizzy and hazy in all the right ways. The only respond he could even make out was a small nodd. Bruce seemed to exhale at that, but he smiled again, that small and secretive one. Private.

“You won’t like it one bit,” he said taking a sip of his drink. “It’s pure hell, you’ll need vacation once it’s over.”

Clark laughed at that and looked at Bruce, nodding. I’m pretty sure I can handle it. His smile turned warmer. “I’ll be there.” As he placed his hand over the other’s he felt the colossus and the many small scars. But Clark was quite sure he loved it.

—

In the end Bruce was right. Vacation with the Wayne kids turned out to be pure hell, and somehow, god knows how, it started already in the car to the airport.

#superman #batman #superbat #superbat prompt #superbat request #dc #bruce wayne #clark kent #bruce wayne x clark kent

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thegothamarchivescomics-blog · 7 years

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The Killing Joke Overview

The Killing Joke is a one shot storyline exploring the origins of Batman and probably the most famous Batman/Joker book of all time. In fact, The Killing Joke is probably one of the most famous comics of all time. Known as a possible Joker origin story and for its dark themes, The Killing Joke explores the relationship between Batman and Joker and how they are mirror images to each other, along the way are some chilling scenes where Barbara Gordon famously gets shot and subsequently paralysed before she is sexually assaulted and has pictures taken to torture her father. The Killing Joke is a must read for anyone into comics and should be on the shelf of every Batman fan. Truly iconic.

Batman: The Killing Joke (Deluxe hardcover, which was reviewed) includes the full “Killing Joke” storyline as well as “An Innocent Guy” from Batman: Black & White. This edition has been coloured by Bolland himself and not John Higgins colours from the original.

The Killing Joke Key Information

Book Name The Killing Joke Book Series Limited Series One Shot Edition Reviewed Deluxe Edition Hardcover Year Published 2008 Originally Published 1988 Writer(s) Alan Moore, Artist(s) Brian Bolland Pages 64 Issues 2 Where to Buy Amazon Notable Heroes Batman Notable Villains Joker Chronology Previous The Nights of the Beast Chronology Next

Arkham Asylum

[amazon box=”1401216676″ title=”The Killing Joke Deluxe Edition”]

The Killing Joke Review

The Killing Joke has remained a prominent comic book classic for nearly 3 decades now. The 1988 installment by Alan Moore and Brian Bolland boasts one of the most notorious Joker comics of the entire series. Follow the Dark Knight on one of his darkest and most controversial stories yet. Critically acclaimed and incredibly brutal, this story has even won the praise of Tim Burton who comments; “I loved The Killing Joke… It’s my favorite. It’s the first comic I’ve ever loved.” This is a highly recommended read if you are ready for what’s in store for you.

To start out, I love this artwork. Both the characters and scenery are highly detailed and revised colours from Bolland is certainly an upgrade. Compared to other comics of its time, it has a LOT of work put into it and I am a huge fan. Even though the comic itself is rather old now, the artwork could not be farther from dated. And if you put this next to other comics from the era it is way ahead of its time. I especially love any and all scenes that include rain and shadows as I think Bolland did an exceptional job with bringing this story to light.

It opens right up to a rather famous scene in the Batman series. Batman goes to Arkham Asylum to sit down and confront the joker about their “relationship.” Namely, what does he think the endgame is here.

“I’ve been thinking lately. About you and me. About what’s going to happen to us in the end. We’re going to kill each other, aren’t we? Perhaps you’ll kill me. Perhaps I’ll kill you. Perhaps sooner. Perhaps later. I just wanted to know that I’d make the genuine attempt to talk things over and avert that outcome. Just once.”

Of course, his pleas fall of deaf ears and that someone had been sitting in for the Joker the whole time. With a start like this, you know things are going to be intense, it’s just a matter of how and when. Even Bruce Wayne could not have anticipated the horrors that were to come. That and that this opening implies foreshadowing and an explanation for why the Joker wants to destroy Batman so much. This is implied as the comic progresses as well.

“How can two people hate so much without knowing each other?”

There are a lot of questions we were left asking ourselves in the beginning. All we know for sure at this point is that the Joker has bought himself a circus and has already claimed his first victim in a horrifying manner.

What I do really appreciate about this comic is that it does give some of the background to the joker piece by piece. While it doesn’t come outright and say it, the evidence is there and you are just left waiting to see when this awkward and sweet guy (with a pregnant girl no less) became the man he is today.

The plot’s real turning point is the one it is best known for. If you have not yet read the comic, I advise you to stop here to prevent yourself from getting any unwanted spoilers. I also advise you this is where things take a dark and personal turn, even for Batman comics as not many writers went this route before or even after.

The Joker shows right up to the Gordon’s residence, which at this point in the series hold two very important characters. James Gordon -from the Gotham City Police Department – and Barbara Gordon –Batgirl. Without even much of a fight at all, Joker shoots Barbara point blank in the stomach, right through the spine and rendering her paralyzed. What happened between her being undressed by Joker in the empty apartment and being found and brought to the hospital leave a lot of speculation to the readers. What was said was that he took inappropriate photos of her, but there are a lot of pointers that something even more sinister took place there, many people think she may have been raped while others think it stopped at photos. You could speculate all day about this, and at the end of the day it’s up to the reader to decide what happened.

This particular incident has been fought with some criticism over the last years. What happened? Should writers have done this? Was this going too far? People have had a lot to say about it, but if nothing else this certainly gets the message across that the Joker is a terrible human being and must be stopped.

If also leads you to further wonder what happened to the Joker back then? Flashbacks of a guy that would do anything for his family to this?

To top it all off, he has James Gordon captive.

Things become a lot more visually disturbing at this point -it does take place in a circus after all. I don’t even entirely know what to make of the small and creepy creatures that have to monitor Gordon. They are just small creatures reminiscent of those “horror baby dolls” you see every once in a while, wearing dresses and bondage outfits. They strip Gordon down until he is wearing nothing but a spiked collar and a leash (and I mean NOTHING) and parade him around the freak show that resides in the service. Joker sits atop a throne of naked baby dolls and rambles on about madness. I don’t think anyone could have come up with a worse nightmare inducing image than that.

The naked and very disturbed Gordon is forced into a dark ride where he is not only confronted with more images and videos of Joker -but the naked images of Barbara! This was very dark for a number of reasons. For one, that was his daughter and it was a dark scenario. We had been with James Gordon through so many installments and seen everything he had done for his daughter. This was torture. On top of it, this was Batgirl! Not some side character or installment-exclusive character, but the actual Batgirl! Although, in Batgirl New 52 Volume 1 and Volume 2 it does become apparent that Joker did not know the superhero connection at this point. This was torture to readers to see her like this! As he rides the train all the way through his nightmare we are forced to watch Batman pull every move to try to get the Joker’s location.

At least by this point, we are shown the reason why Joker hates the Batman, as in a very long and complicated scenario, Batman did ultimately knock him in the water. It is weird and rather metaphorical when you think about it like that. That Batman created the Joker, his worst enemy and ultimate rival and in some sense the Joker created the need for a Batman.

Once Batman arrives the ultimate battle ensues. The battle to end all battles in a way. This was the most action-packed scene in the book (considering a lot of the violence was rather one-sided up until this point). It has so much going on and everything creative and aggressive you would expect from a story such as this. I have to say this was also the most colorful part of the entire installment which says a lot about the significance from this scene.

At the end of this cut throat battle where it really could have gone either way, there was just so much you weren’t sure of. Why not just off another main character this time? It was an intense battle that ultimately and only slightly led with Batman’s victory. What I found most surprising was Batman’s lack of anger at this point. Like, it was severely underwhelming. With everything that -arguably the closest- people in his life had just gone through, he was still very level headed about it. I guess that is just one of those things that makes Batman Batman, but still, I would have hoped for a little bit of cathartic aggression to go off at this point (if nothing else but to give me some vicarious relief).

Instead, he goes on just like the comic opened up with. Wanting to know how and why things turned out the way they did. Also wanted to make amends and not end up having to kill each other.

“It doesn’t have to end like that. I don’t know what is was that bent your life out of shape, but who knows? Maybe I’ve been there too. Maybe I can help.”

Again, reaching out as a friend is this very Batman style and I can understand that Joker snapped. I get that you have to give some villains with tragic background stories some leeway, but at the same time, that’s an awful big jump he’s making. For a vigilante that has devoted his life to revenge, I understand where he is all about stopping people from ending up in these situations and attempts to sympathize. Getting past what villains have done and rising above is kind of his thing. However, these atrocities were on a whole other level. On the other hand, this guy is completely driven by vengeance but believes that he will be there for Joker if he needs help because he can rise above everything that has happened in the past pages?

It ends with Joker’s depressing turn down and them both laughing hysterically as Batman has him in an aggressive grip -also laughing hysterically. A disturbing ending to and overall disturbing comic. Aside from the lack of emotion. I really wish that he would have found out what happened to make Joker go mad as well as the role he played in all of it. I know they do touch upon this later on in the next installments which I do appreciate.

Summary

Seriously, buy this book. This was an amazing comic and has to be seen to be believed. Don’t watch the latest film adaption first. An easy 5/5. This is a classic with a gripping tale and amazing artwork. Lacking a bit of action until the end, but that last scene more than makes up for it. Highly recommend this story to any and every comic book fan. It is easy to see why this is remembered as one of the greatest Joker tales of all time!

Once read you will never be able to forget it.

Batman: The Killing Joke Image Gallery

Batman: The Killing Joke Review The Killing Joke Overview The Killing Joke is a one shot storyline exploring the origins of Batman and probably the most famous Batman/Joker book of all time.

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