An innocent exploration of the workings of a man and his machine shop. The beauty of the craft with not a clear idea of the process; a puzzle, and how the pieces fit together. The dance and the tension between the craftsman and the craft.
With the precision of a doctor working on his patient, and knowing that each action and observation matters, he displays the artistry of his knowledge, which transports us into a ritual that has been passed through generations.
Under the craftsman’s command, as if by magic the machines grind, torch, drill, sand, burn, polish, and rinse in an oil bath, synchronizing in a rhythmic symphony to achieve an overall outcome that has very little tolerance for mistakes. For if there are any mistakes the dance won’t happen, and the machine will be lifeless. But, with the final turn of the key, the machine comes alive.
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By Alexandra . Camilla . Michael
Jonathan’s article “The Ecstasy of Influence’ is very compelling and succinct. I am intrigued by his arguments of originality vs. plagiarism, that all ideas are borrowed not taken, and that ones vision should not be plundered but can be taken and expanded.
I think that iconography of universally famous places and objects like the Effel Tower, Mount Rushmore, Big Ben, the Mona Lisa or a Disney character can be reproduced in all shapes and sizes, kitsch, pop art, key chains and soft pillows. This is not plagiarism, this is a celebration of the essence of the original idea.
A Tinkerbell Moment
I was walking towards the corner of St. Marks and 3rd Ave. last week and in front of me was young woman dressed in an exquisite Tinkerbell costume made with beautiful gold trimming and pearl white in color. She was so happy and comfortable and hanging with her friends. I immediately recognized who she was dressed as, even though out of context, as she just blended into the day.
I was coming home late last week on the Metro North with my wife and sitting across from us was a couple in their late fifties early sixties. They were well dressed and speaking happily and enjoying each others company like they have been married for many years. As we were getting off the train I noticed between them was a little gold statuary of Tinkerbell sitting on a wood base with an inscription. I ask him what it was for and he told me, proudly, that it was presented to him for fifty years working at Disney.
Iconographic symbols are a universal collective understanding of the original art and an extention of it. Often the saturation, even for profit, of an image gives new meaning to the original intent, or even more so, projects the original intent into our psyche.
Sandy Hsieh and I went on this walk on Saturday September 9th, a beautiful sunny day, and there was a street fair in front of St. Marks Church where we began the walk. This area is nostalgic for me because I lived on 10th Street between 2nd & 3rd Ave. in the early 80’s. I went to CBGB’s, ate at the 2nd Avenue Deli and the Kiev, Keith Harring lived in the alphabets, and the Philmore East became St. Marks. But according to the Poets, and the narrator, Jim Jarmusch, the Beat generation was gone in the 80’s and I was part of the gentrification and the downfall of that subculture. I loved the East Village, with it’s art scene, the ethnic mix and the dangers of Tomkins Square. On the walk, listening to the poets, seeing where Allen Ginsberg’s many apartments are I was nostalgic and couldn’t believe how gentrified the East Village has become. Oh well, shit happens