Thursday, January 27, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
War, huh, what is it good for
The images and stories from chapter 3 and 7 had a very real impact on me. I loved the paragraph in "The First Thanksgiving" when she says, 'It is curious that we Americans have a holiday--Thanksgiving--that's all about people who left their homes for a life of their own choosing, a life that was different from their parents' lives. And how do we celebrate it? By hanging out with our parents!' Every year I'm asked what family I'll be spending Thanksgiving with. Will I be going home? I'm 28 years old. Isn't my home where I live now? Am I forced to spend the holiday with family from where I grew up because I'm single and don't have my own children to make a dinner for?
I had a difficult time looking at the war images in chapter 7. Children Fleeing a Napalm Strike, Vietnam was especially hard to look at. I don't read books about war, I don't watch film about war, and I don't look at images of war. My grandfather served in the Korean War and instilled in me many horrifying stories that allowed my imagination to produce an image of what war is. Being from the south I've seen plenty of Civil War reenactments to last me a lifetime. I try to avoid war at all costs.
I loved the Vodka ad. Probably one of the funniest things I saw in the images. I especially loved the second ad in which the orange asked who the tomato was the vodka was talking to. If I were someone that drank, the ad would be appealing to me. I also enjoyed seeing the "This is your brain on drugs" image. It brought back memories for me. I was 5 when that ad campaign came out. It's probably one of the first things I remember seeing on television. It was even shown while I watched saturday morning cartoons!
My favorite reading was probably the "Ghetto Haiku". It said a lot to me about how people are treated in the world. Stereotypes are everywhere. No matter how hard we try, we all have certain stereotypes we place people in at one time or another. Perhaps we should take a second to put those stereotypes aside and be courteous to everyone. Except everyone and be a friend to everyone. It would make the world a much better place.
Challenging Media: Memory Shorthand
The readings explore poignant moments in the life of the authors and photographers. They do this with their detailed treatment of the events. In “Flag Raising on Iwo Jima,” Joe Rosenthal does not build up the moment that he was in, but rather speaks about how the moment had significance in the grander scale of events. He talks about how ordinary his actions were, contrasting with the iconic status of the photo that he took. His quote, “What difference does it make who took the photo? I took the picture, but the Marines took Iwo Jima,” sums up his opinion on the series of events—he was nothing more than an ordinary person doing ordinary things, albeit in an extraordinary situation.
The transition of pieces in the text to that of “Ground Zero” flows nicely, as 9/11 is my generation’s Iwo Jima, our own Pearl Harbor. The account of James Nachtwey is extremely visceral. I felt like I was there. He took me with him through the collapse of the towers and his narrow escape by using powerful imagery and describing all the sensory details of the moment, like “…just as if you were in a closet with the light out and a blindfold on,” and, “The scene was burning and filled with acrid smoke; my lungs had burned all day long.” With this exploration of the senses, whether or not I want to, I am pulled into the nightmarish reality of the 9/11 attacks in New York City.
But most importantly in my interaction with the text and accompanying apocalyptic photo, I am taken back to where I was when it all happened—I will always remember looking around at the several classes of seventh graders huddled outside our temporary classroom buildings in Beijing, China, shivering on a chilly September morning, wondering what the fallout of the attack was going to be. The descriptions in Nachtwey’s text are augmented by my own even-further detailed memories. Such is the power of effective challenging media—it forces readers or viewers to connect with their own forgotten experiences and come to terms with them.
In “This American Life,” the anecdotes about babysitting brought back to mind the many times I was stuck at home to tend my siblings. But the anecdotes went a step further; they brought to the table the difficult experiences of others and how they have come to terms with them. I was taken to my own memories and then presented with “what if” situations. I found myself contemplating how I would have reacted in those situations and ultimately decided that I would never have to know. But in encountering challenging media, be it print, picture, film, or audio forms, the onus is on me to decide how I will incorporate it into who I am.
9/11, like the photo of Omayra Sanchez, will never leave me. It was a pivotal moment in my life, as the events that followed have gone on to define my generation. But I do not resent it. Instead, I see it as a necessary point of evolution for both my peers and myself. As young kids, we came to the startling realization that life was not a Disney movie. With realizations like this, one can either let it destroy their faith in the world or empower them to be even better. I have chosen to let it help me grow—an approach I have come to take for all obstacles I encounter, challenging media not excepted. If I don’t adapt to challenging new information, what good am I to anyone? I would be an intellectual Luddite. I would be a useless appendage awaiting amputation to prevent psychological gangrene. I would be the obstacle that I could not overcome.
The transition of pieces in the text to that of “Ground Zero” flows nicely, as 9/11 is my generation’s Iwo Jima, our own Pearl Harbor. The account of James Nachtwey is extremely visceral. I felt like I was there. He took me with him through the collapse of the towers and his narrow escape by using powerful imagery and describing all the sensory details of the moment, like “…just as if you were in a closet with the light out and a blindfold on,” and, “The scene was burning and filled with acrid smoke; my lungs had burned all day long.” With this exploration of the senses, whether or not I want to, I am pulled into the nightmarish reality of the 9/11 attacks in New York City.
But most importantly in my interaction with the text and accompanying apocalyptic photo, I am taken back to where I was when it all happened—I will always remember looking around at the several classes of seventh graders huddled outside our temporary classroom buildings in Beijing, China, shivering on a chilly September morning, wondering what the fallout of the attack was going to be. The descriptions in Nachtwey’s text are augmented by my own even-further detailed memories. Such is the power of effective challenging media—it forces readers or viewers to connect with their own forgotten experiences and come to terms with them.
In “This American Life,” the anecdotes about babysitting brought back to mind the many times I was stuck at home to tend my siblings. But the anecdotes went a step further; they brought to the table the difficult experiences of others and how they have come to terms with them. I was taken to my own memories and then presented with “what if” situations. I found myself contemplating how I would have reacted in those situations and ultimately decided that I would never have to know. But in encountering challenging media, be it print, picture, film, or audio forms, the onus is on me to decide how I will incorporate it into who I am.
9/11, like the photo of Omayra Sanchez, will never leave me. It was a pivotal moment in my life, as the events that followed have gone on to define my generation. But I do not resent it. Instead, I see it as a necessary point of evolution for both my peers and myself. As young kids, we came to the startling realization that life was not a Disney movie. With realizations like this, one can either let it destroy their faith in the world or empower them to be even better. I have chosen to let it help me grow—an approach I have come to take for all obstacles I encounter, challenging media not excepted. If I don’t adapt to challenging new information, what good am I to anyone? I would be an intellectual Luddite. I would be a useless appendage awaiting amputation to prevent psychological gangrene. I would be the obstacle that I could not overcome.
Holding My Own
I found the episode of This American Life to be unsettling to listen to. I don’t think it was the stories themselves, I think it was how they were presented. The music made me uncomfortable and planted a creeping feeling inside of me. I didn’t like it. It felt invasive and manipulative. These are not comfortable stories, and I don’t think they have to be. But I felt defiled by the music and the way it tried to get inside of me and dictate my opinions about what I was hearing. I felt like I needed distance from the stories in order to think about them, and the music wouldn’t let me do that. It was trying to do my thinking for me.
What is interesting about the third prong of the episode is that after all the twisted images of the mother, we find out that the daughter speaks to her daily and visits her twice a week. I don’t think the episode did credit to that revealing moment. It is so easy to miss, especially if you are letting the music think for you. There is no music through that section indicating that it is negligible.
Does something have to be dogmatic to be challenging or evocative?
Memorable Moments/Challenging Images
The readings mainly focus on how photography is used to capture important moments. In every generation there seems to be an iconic moment that all in that generation share together because of the gravity of a situation. The situation that my generation will always identify with is September 11th. I love how this is reflective in looking back at other generations. I know my grandfather would tell me about the pictures he saw take place. My grandfather fought on Iwa Jima and he saw the famous flag raising. He told us how it was actually the second flag raising, yet because of the composition of the shot it was replicated and used as an image to represent patriotism and overcoming of obstacles. Having an eyewitness to such an amazing time in history has been meaningful to me.
I am largely drawn to visual images. What I see and hear that is meaningful to me are stories in texts (both written and visually captured) where I can learn a true principle of life that I can apply. In Amy Tan’s Fish Cheeks the author reflects upon her family’s devotion to her only realizing this after she has been humiliated by the cultural difference between the Chinese and the Americans.
The poems I identified with where the Ghetto Haiku and Dear God. Both have emotionally powerful word usage that stayed with me after I read them.
One of the most haunting photographs from the reading was Frank Fournier’s Omayra Sanchez photo. This was an example of a challenging photo for me. When I encounter a challenging photo I try to figure out what about the photo makes me uncomfortable. I was not sure if I was looking at a picture of dead child or if she was still alive. I think that picture will stand with me for a long time because of how it represented how the Columbian government did not prepare the people for the inevitable volcano explosion. The government simply called the whole area a cemetery and washed their hands clean of trying to rescue many people who were trapped.
One thing I liked from the radio program was the frozen iguana story. Airlines become the babysitters are a hard statement against our society. The story about the kids having a fake family really created this family as a way to escape their own family. The children were actually babysitter their mother. This is a unique role reversal.
-Jeremy Ashworth
I am largely drawn to visual images. What I see and hear that is meaningful to me are stories in texts (both written and visually captured) where I can learn a true principle of life that I can apply. In Amy Tan’s Fish Cheeks the author reflects upon her family’s devotion to her only realizing this after she has been humiliated by the cultural difference between the Chinese and the Americans.
The poems I identified with where the Ghetto Haiku and Dear God. Both have emotionally powerful word usage that stayed with me after I read them.
One of the most haunting photographs from the reading was Frank Fournier’s Omayra Sanchez photo. This was an example of a challenging photo for me. When I encounter a challenging photo I try to figure out what about the photo makes me uncomfortable. I was not sure if I was looking at a picture of dead child or if she was still alive. I think that picture will stand with me for a long time because of how it represented how the Columbian government did not prepare the people for the inevitable volcano explosion. The government simply called the whole area a cemetery and washed their hands clean of trying to rescue many people who were trapped.
One thing I liked from the radio program was the frozen iguana story. Airlines become the babysitters are a hard statement against our society. The story about the kids having a fake family really created this family as a way to escape their own family. The children were actually babysitter their mother. This is a unique role reversal.
-Jeremy Ashworth
Sucker-Punch and Milk Cows
I guess I’ll start with some honesty; these chapters came at me from a very unexpected angle. While I was reading about various means of interpreting the world, I was led to examine how I personally respond and react to life. Growing up, my family was not sympathetic in the conventional sense of the word: we were very much a “suck it up and move on” kind of family. (This was due, in part, to my dad growing up milking cows at 4 a.m. No matter how you may be feeling at 4 in the morning, you simply must get up and milk those cows. Period. Otherwise they’ll explode. Literally.) This upbringing led me to be what I am today: a stubborn optimist. I believe that no matter how dire the situation, something good can always come of it. The trick is having a determined positive attitude. This isn’t to say that being stubbornly positive prohibits you from ever feeling sad; the stubborn optimist takes time to feel sorrow, disappointment, etc. but then immediately looks for the good (or the lesson), trusting that it will be there. All of that said, I had mixed feelings about Dorothy Allison’s “This Is Our World”. It’s a marvelous essay, but I didn’t agree with the negative view at the end. Yes, the world is full of absolutely terrible things, horrific tragedies and untold sorrows; however, there is an equal amount of good, of the miraculous, and the inspiring; there has to be, it’s the law of opposition. So, while I was feeling all “up in arms” about my decidedly positive outlook on life, my views were subsequently challenged by the images in chapter seven, specifically the picture of Omayra Sanchez. I can of course apply gospel principles and talk about the eternal perspective, which are all good and true, but my initial reaction: this picture frightened me. Perhaps the reminder of the injustice that does take place in the world, and my own inability to save it, to save a friend, to save the already deceased young girl in the photo, was disheartening. As stubbornly optimistic as I wish to be, there is a reality in the other side of the law of opposition. And while my rather iron-willed optimism will continue, these chapters remind me that reality can sometimes sucker-punch my surety.
On Photography
Every once in a while we see something (usually a movie since that's the art form I've invested my soul in) that moves us and changes how we view ourselves and the world. As I mentioned, for me, these riveting experiences are usually films, but Susan Sontag's article came pretty close to being one of these earth shattering experiences for me. Honestly, I was anticipating that the reading for this week would be a few interesting articles and a few cool pictures that I could take in in order to prove that I was diligent and did what I was asked to do this week. But this article actually kind of pricked my heart and my consciousness and I had a mini awakening. I seriously doubt that anybody else experienced this but for some reason this article caused me to take a step back and ask myself what my role was as a filmmaker. As I tried to remove myself from my situation and take a purely objective standpoint in determining what my role was, I found myself questioning what my motivations were in deciding to be a filmmaker. This article literally concerned me as I realized that I'd kind of slipped into that role of being a 'casual photographer' that just uses photography as a means to relieve stress and escape the banality of real life. Similarly, I've discovered that I'm exactly like Jimmy Stewart's character in Rear Window in a lot of respects where I've taken a passive role in capturing events instead of using a camera as a means of conveyance. Sontag fairly and unfairly accused many of being in two classes: those who bring about great things and those who document these great people using their cameras. Unfortunately, there haven’t been nearly enough people to justify setting up a third class, which would be those who bring about great things with their cameras. I hope to one day join this elite and barely mentionable third class, which I’m sure we all aspire to do. This article kind of bled into what the latter half of the reading talked about which was challenging media. For me, this article was challenging because it forced me to take a good look at myself and determine what exactly I stood for as a filmmaker and how I was going to achieve my goals in spite of my inevitable challenges. After reading the article about challenging media, I became grateful for the fact that it was indeed challenging because I honestly wouldn’t have evaluated myself and my goals if it wasn’t for the fact that it challenged me to do so. In short, I think I’m starting to grasp why it’s so important for some media to not be passive and be aggressive in challenging us to become better than we already are.
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