Thursday, 29 March 2012
Sunday, 25 March 2012
Frequencies: Early Echo
Surfer Kassia Meador Rides Nature’s Rhythms in Bruce Muller's Short Film
Longboard icon Kassia Meador floats serenely across the majestic waves in surfer and filmmaker Bruce Muller’s Echo. The visual meditation is the first of four shorts teasing the release this fall of Frequencies, an experimental documentary and visual essay by Muller shot at prime surfing destinations across Southern California. Starring Meador and with an original score from Los Angeles-based psyche-pop trio E.S.P, Frequencies aims to explore how man can find synergy with nature’s cycles. “Their are so many different frequencies all around us at all times: ocean waves, sound waves, light waves, infrared and many others outside our range, but all have an effect on us,” explains professional surfer and passionate photographer Meador. “There are many parallels we can connect between surfing and navigating life.” Having previously made the music video for Warpaint’s single “Elephant”, Florida-native Muller combined his love of surfing and the fantastical films of Ridley Scott, Andrei Tarkovsky and Akira Kurosawa in the upcoming feature. “We exist in a world that is vast and dynamic,” he says. “We’re using surfing as a medium to explore how we harness these energies and the effects they have on us."
Friday, 23 March 2012
BLOOM by Anna Schuleit.
Bloom: 28,000 Potted Flowers Installed at the Massachusetts Mental Health Center
One of the tiny offices on the third floor, with orange tulips at mid-day.
To answer that question artist Anna Schuleit was commissioned to do the impossible. After an initial tour of the facility she was struck not with what she saw but with what she didn’t see: the presence of life and color. While historically a place of healing, the drab interior, worn hallways, and dull paint needed a respectful infusion of hope. With a limited budget and only three months of planning Schuleit and an enormous team of volunteers executed a massive public art installation called Bloom. The concept was simple but absolutely immense in scale. Nearly 28,000 potted flowers would fill almost every square foot of the MMHC including corridors, stairwells, offices and even a swimming pool, all of it brought to life with a sea of blooms. The public was then invited for a limited 4-day viewing as a time for needed reflection and rebirth.
Perhaps no single installation or piece of art seen on Colossal has touched me more deeply than Bloom. After learning about it for the first time a few weeks ago I decided to reach out to Anna and ask if she might be willing to share some photos and information about the genesis and execution of such an incredible installation. What follows is a brief Q/A I had with Anna and a number of high-resolution photos that have never been shared before online.
Red Regina Mums in the hallway that was the last one to close—it used to be one of the busiest homeless shelters in Boston.
In 2003 I was working as visiting artist in a psychiatric institution in central Massachusetts when I got a call from another institution in Boston that was about to close. I was asked if I would consider creating a project for the closing of the historic building—the Massachusetts Mental Health Center. I said I needed to see the building, learn about its history and people and its particular architecture. I had done this sort of work before, at the Northampton State Hospital in 2000, a project that took me almost four years to complete. But here I had no more than three months to do the entire project, start to finish. So I started immediately. I asked for an office in which to crash and brainstorm, a key to every door in the building, and a person who knew all its stories. It took me about a week to create the concept for the project, and then three whirling months to make it happen.
The Child Psychiatry unit with white tulips.
The basement of the building was covered with 5,600square feet of live sod, which was raked and watered throughout the day, and continued to grow.
I was hoping to create a work that would bring aspects of play into the seriousness of the institution, an element of the absurd. It would have been infinitely easier to work with just a few hundred flowers, or a few thousand even, but I wanted to reach my goal of twenty-eight thousand, because it had occurred to me at the beginning of the project that that was the minimum number that was missing here. If it had been a project merely for photography, we wouldn’t have needed so many. But it was really a project for the passing visitor, someone coming in, in real time, from the street and finding this sea of color inside the building, and throughout. A multitude of greetings on every floor. Really, simply, a work of the imagination. That’s all I hoped for. I was amazed by how many people wandered through the building on those four days.
Pink Heather in one of the patients’ waiting rooms. These flowers had traveled the farthest to be part of ‘Bloom’—from California.
The concept for Bloom came to me as a site-specific installation to mark the transition of the life and history of the institution toward its closure, from its physical state to the remembered. I imagined the project on a 1:1 scale with the building, on all floors and hallways. Twenty-eight thousand flowers arrived on trucks in the span of a few days, all needing to be watered as they came in, all having to be placed in the building, unwrapped, arranged, watered again. I had a team of about eighty volunteers to help me with this, all spontaneous helpers. After four public days of “Bloom”, the building was closed for good and we delivered all twenty-eight thousand flowers to shelters, half-way houses, and psychiatric hospitals throughout New England—which is why I didn’t want to work with cut flowers. I wanted these flowers to continue onward, after the installation. Bloom was a reflection on the healing symbolism of flowers given to the sick when they are bedridden and confined to hospital settings. As a visiting artist I had observed an astonishing absence of flowers in psychiatric settings. Here, patients receive few, if any, flowers during their stay. Bloom was created to address this absence, in the spirit of offering and transition.
One of the longest axes of the building: white mums and orange tulips on the first floor
The reactions to Bloom ranged from expressions of delight to raw and renewed sorrow. It was a strange duality: at its core this project was intended to allow people free access to a building that had always been locked and mysterious, while opening its doors also (and especially) to those who had been there for years. The building meant many things to many people, as a workplace, a refuge, a place of confinement. The installation of live flowers and audio (a collage of the sounds of the building before it closed being played over the old PA system) elicited as many reactions as there are stories. I met many hundreds of people who had worked and been at MMHC for years and decades. It was for them that I created this work. We had a guest book in the lobby which filled up with many entries, here are some:
“I walked through Bloom with a close friend of mine who has spent a great deal of time inside similar hospitals. He was close to tears and repeated said he felt the desire to jump into the flowers, sum bold for the freedom and the celebration of his own growth and healing. We recognized that Bloom brought beauty and wonder to what has always been an inherently taboo subject matter.”
“‘Never worry alone’ was a Dr. Tom Gutheil classic line, but because of the lack of social support, too many patients who came here had to worry alone. Anna saw these corridors as places to be filled with growth. For all the patients who never received flowers, these flowers are for you.”
“My therapist’s office was in the basement and the floor is covered in grass. Grass does not bloom but it cushions and it is in the right place. It is the foundation, it softens everything. Conceptually it is brilliant.”
“My mother told me, 36 years ago, “Hang on. They’ll find a cure.” I was suffering alone until I came to MMHC. And today… oh so grateful… beyond any words, so grateful. Lives and sufferings have been redeemed here, and today we celebrate and honor, all of us, in this place, for better or for worse. Today, we flourish. The list of what we cannot do grows shorter and shorter. We become comfortable in a world of three dimensions; we gladly surrender the fourth, fifth, and sixth.”
Treatment rooms on the first floor, with orange tulips.
The connecting hallway between the historic part of MMHC and the research annex was covered in blue African Violets.
Bloom took so many people to get realized, so many helping hands, such immense logistics—these types of art projects consume all of one’s energy and resources. During Bloom I learned to share and relinquish control in the creative process, to imagine joint efforts on a larger scale, as if it were a movie production but without a product to sell. When it ended we delivered twenty-eight thousand flowers to people behind bars… that doesn’t have much to do with traditional art-making. Right now I’m working on four collaborative projects that revolve around my painting practice, but with a twist: one is a set-design for Ivy Baldwin Dance at New York Live Arts, a form of live-drawing into the space, another is a collaboration with the composer Yotam Haber for 104 paintings and 104 piano pieces. This semester I’m also a visiting artist at the Eastman School of Music, working with four students there on a piece based on colors and musical intervals—which is a new challenge. And then two book projects: an oral history about psychiatric hospitals, and a book on painting.
Orange begonias leading to the doctor’s offices.
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Thursday, 8 March 2012
Reflexology
The Organs of your body have their sensory touches at the bottom of your foot, if you massage these points you will find relief from aches and pains as you can see the heart is on the left foot.
Typically they are shown as points and arrows to show which organ it connects to.
It is indeed correct since the nerves connected to these organs terminate here.
This is covered in great details in Acupressure studies or textbooks.
Every time you walk BAREFOOT you are pressing these pressure points and thus keeping these organs activated at all times.
Thank you to the group Alternative Thinking for this post
Typically they are shown as points and arrows to show which organ it connects to.
It is indeed correct since the nerves connected to these organs terminate here.
This is covered in great details in Acupressure studies or textbooks.
Every time you walk BAREFOOT you are pressing these pressure points and thus keeping these organs activated at all times.
Thank you to the group Alternative Thinking for this post
Thursday, 1 March 2012
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