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painting illustration
"Good
painting is often accidental: a happy coincidence of colors, lines, textures
and shapes. The best results sneak up on the artist while he or she is busy
trying for something else. But it's only the best artist who captures the happy
accident before it disappears."
acrylic paint
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New
Terrain - historical overview of landscape painting - Illustration
Afterimage, Sept, 2001 by Jack
Thorndike
The title of
Richard Baron's 1997 painting
illustration 100 Years
reflects the timeless, ethereal quality of the image. The rising full moon and
twilight atmosphere speak of the tranquility of a natural world far away from
the machinery and complication of modern life. But it's not.
100 Years is a computer-generated image constructed from mathematical
models and vast amounts of satellite and aerial data. Baron wanted to show the
effect large timber cuts would have on a forested mountainside after one
century, so he chose a fictional date and determined the time of day, season,
state of vegetation and the weather conditions to help him construct the image.
Terrain images look like objective landscape photographs, but they actually
represent processed data manipulated to depict a time and a condition of the
land that never was.
In The Imperial
Landscape W.J.T. Mitchell describes a number of social functions that landscape
art serves, noting that "landscape is a medium not only for expressing
value but also for expressing meaning, for communication between persons."
[1] The present article examines how two genres of landscape depiction at
either end of the twentieth century construct the relationship between viewers
and the land within the ruling ideology of the dominance of nature, while at
the same time eliding that inherent hegemony. Both fin de siecle pictorialist
photography and contemporary computer-generated terrain images construct their
audience to some degree--that is, the images posit a viewing subject that
represents a constellation of opinions, beliefs and ideologies. The viewing
subjects constructed by pictorialism and by terrain imaging express a specific
stance toward technological power and operate within a regime of truth that
supports the hegemonic aims of those who produce--or pay for the production
of--the painting
illustration.
For both
pictorialism and terrain imaging the viewing subject's attitude toward
technology is paradoxical. The subject is aware that technology produced the
photographs and computer images, while at the same time remains naive of the
maneuvering of power and wealth needed to make technology possible. Moreover,
the domination of nature makes such technology possible and the viewing subject
remains naive of that relationship too. Such an implication in technology, plus
a negation of relevant power relations, are found in the naive technological
subject--the viewer of landscape painting illustration.
Michel Foucault describes a regime of truth as
"the types of discourse which [society] accepts and makes function as
true. " [2] Dominant political entities ordain what counts as truth in
order to support ideologies that give them power. Foucault describes knowledge
in similar terms, as chosen types of information that justify the hegemony of
the ruling powers. The naive technological subject for both pictorialism and
for terrain images is implicated in regimes of truth that determine which
discourse is legitimate and which is not. These regimes of truth inform
contemporary western culture's approach to nature and to environmental issues:
Victorian beliefs about how nature should be best understood and contemporary
beliefs about the proper relationship between technology and nature.
Precedents
European landscape paintings established hegemony
over nature in the cause of royal, national or commercial power while American
landscape painting traditions such as those of the Hudson River School
appropriated nature as a path to transcendence. However, after the Civil War,
the United States government and the national railroad companies used landscape
photography's imperialist function to affirm their possession of land in the
western territories. Here, the gaze was deployed with machinery--the
camera--and it implicated the viewer in technological culture.
Mid-nineteenth-century citizens generally engaged in politics without irony,
and the territorial photographs served as documents that institutionalized
hegemony over the landscape by the democratically elected government. This
hegemony was sanctioned by an ascendant authority, namely science. The
precision, clarity and supposed objectivity of the images established
photography as a standard for validity in a regime of truth that valorized
scientific pre cision.
By late in the nineteenth century, pictorialist
photographers were in pitched battle with the "purists" who
complained that "there is getting to be too much 'Bunthorne and the Lily'.
. . too many 'twenty lovesick maidens' hanging on the accents of a few
photographic Oscar Wildes."[3] Pictorialists' romantic images eventually
triumphed and, though their otherworldly themes would dominate art photography
for four decades, they would never be free of the tension inherent in the
project of expressing spiritual values in a regime of truth where science is
considered the only valid source of knowledge.
More recently,
terrain imagery has allowed timber companies and forest management agencies to
render the forests under their purview into large-scale images. World War II
era aerial photos allowed forest managers to survey forests from the air, and
1970s resource maps allowed dozens of land features--natural and artificial--to
be processed in mainframe computers and then manifested as maps expressing
values that would allow for more profitable timber cutting. By the 1990s
forestry technicians had developed terrain images in response to increased
public participation in decisions concerning logging public forests. According
to Hans Zuuring of the University of Montana School of Forestry, "All
planners need is the numbers, but the public needs the painting illustration. And since the images were made for an audience, a
viewing subject was constructed, somewhat aware of the technology needed to
produce the images, yet mainly naive of the power relations necessary for the
production of those images. By the early 1990s, terra in images would elide
that power dynamic even more by obscuring the images' numeric origins and the
power relationships that make their production possible.