Katherine Rizzo / artist statement

One of the main reasons why I chose to attend St. Mary’s College was because of its location, or more importantly its landscape: the river, the relationship between the water and the land, the air and the smells, as well as the crosswalks and architecture. All of these are a part of this landscape and help me to define this place. I am interested in how we as humans relate to and view our surroundings and thus create our own personal landscapes. My body of work presents natural scenes of beauty in a way that questions this relationship and enhances the intrusiveness of mankind by juxtaposing and overlapping various images and sound.

Many of these ideas stem from the works of Eadweard Muybridge and Karen Halverson. Both of these artists use photography to present a truth. I have combined Muybridge’s scientific approach and Halverson’s subtleties to create work that is both accurate and thought provoking by taking images and sounds directly from my surroundings and presenting them in a documentary style that enhances its validity. Because I want to fully engage the viewer I use both video projections and large digital prints obtained from video grabs. I find these mediums to be much more effective in expressing my ideas than the charcoal landscape drawings and small digital prints I had used in the past. These current works have a timelessness quality to them that draws from Bill Viola’s use of ambiguity in videos through repeated forms and elements as well as freeze frames and looping. By creating a question as to the time frame of the work, I also question if the images still exist. Still images make up just one part of my work and are presented as large-scale, digitally manipulated representations of the world around us. These scenes take on the grandness of 19th century American landscape photography both in their scale and subject matter. However, unlike the photographers of that time period who created images of raw nature in all its wondrous glory, I create images of nature how it has been altered, often unintentionally or unnecessarily by the hand of man.

An artist who has provided real inspiration for me is Karen Halverson, whose landscape photographs are also concerned with the landscape touched by man (Halverson, web). For example, all of the works in her Colorado Series have some sort of human element to them. Even Lodore Canyon, Dinosaur National Monument, Colorado/Utah 1995, which shows the grandness of the canyon by photographing it at an angle that makes it seem endless, is titled in a way that signifies man’s claim to the canyon. It is a “national monument” not just a canyon. Halverson also subtly places the evidence of human presence in her images. This can be seen in a tiny row of white chairs in the lower left hand corner of Davis Gulch, Lake Powell, Utah 1995, and the satellite dish that takes up most of the right side of Wahweap Marina, Lake Powell, Arizona 1995. In these two works, the signs of man are incorporated into the image so that they become a part of the landscape.

There is natural beauty all around us whether we realize our connection to it or not. It is this beauty and the way in which we relate to it that my artwork represents. Mankind has tried to both coexist and conquer our Earth since the creation of time. Often the conquest of natural resources has taken precedence over coexisting with our natural world. This has lead to a variety of viewpoints and relationships that people have with the Earth (Macy, pp. 3-14). According to a series of worldviews presented by the Buddhist philosopher Joanna Macy, I see the world as self (Macy, pp. 11-12). The word “self” here includes both me as a person as well as the rocks, trees, and animals that share my space. By being a part of the same place, we all become a part of my landscape. Therefore for me, the landscape becomes all-inclusive and not restricted to just the mechanical or organic elements.

Through her photographs Karen Halverson has the ability to incorporate both the pure landscape and the destruction of it. She feels that both natural beauty and what humans do to it are important to document.

What is so striking about this statement is that Halverson sees that both beauty and desecration are truths. I feel a strong affinity with her work because this issue relates directly to the goals I set for my own work. Historically, photography has been accepted as truth. It was believed that what was seen in a photograph was actually there for the photographer to record (Mirzoeff, pp. 65-73). In this same way, I want my digital images to be accepted as truths and lead the viewer to believe that these images are a part of their landscape.
Throughout my work, there is a common message of both intrusion and connection. For example, many people can relate to Dameron 2002, a digital image of a dog in a field, but the way in which the image is presented creates an awareness that the field is cut and littered with debris. The scale of the image is greatly enlarged to the point that the cut grasses are distorted and exaggerated. They are transformed from being graceful arcs to hard-edged lines further enhanced by the digitalization of the image. Enlarging the image to the show pixelation draws attention to large colored shapes of debris that would otherwise have been overlooked on a much smaller scale or in a sharper image. My intention is to present the viewer with something they can mentally relate to while making them aware of the intrusive act of deforestation.
Dameron is also an example of how I have tried to incorporate the subtleties I appreciate in Halverson’s work. Nowhere in the image is there an actual mechanical element. Everything from the dog to the “debris” (actually leaves) is organic. However, by increasing the scale and thus decreasing the readability of my work, I intend these subtleties to become confrontational. Through being unnerved, I intend to leave the viewer feeling the need to continue on a path of discovery and really begin to observe the connectiveness in all things.

Observation of the natural world is very important to my work as a whole. The power of observation is what leads me to include basically everything into my personal landscape. I see the grass shooting up in the cracks of the sidewalk and feel the change in the wind that signifies spring. All of these observations make their way into my mind and are expressed in my artwork as well as my daily life. I often approach art and life as a kind of discovery that often mirrors the work of Eadweard Muybridge. Originally a landscape photographer, Muybridge began working in the 1860’s. All over the world this was a time of great scientific discovery that led to a shift in the perception of the ways in which our natural world, as well as we, worked (Lucassen, web). Many of these discoveries and innovations made their way into visual art and were used and reflected on by artists of this era (Jones and Galison, pp. 1-20). In the 1870’s, Muybridge was asked to photograph a galloping horse in order to settle a dispute as to whether or not all four feet ever leave the ground at once. After a series of experiments with new shutter speeds and improved chemistry, Muybridge succeeded in photographing the strides of the horse (Lucassen, web). This led to a series of studies that focused on revealing the intricate motions of various animals and humans. Muybridge’s approach was very scientific and his photography sessions were conducted more like an experiment than a study for an artwork (Lucassen, web). He set up his cameras along a track with a grid background. This way, the images could be used to measure strides as well as calculate other aspects of movement. Though Muybridge’s photographs have been used for the scientific purpose of physiology, the way in which he presents the images creates an art form that combines both art and science.

Animals in Motion published in 1957, reproduces Muybridge’s photographic studies in plates that that show individual frames of the movement (Muybridge, plates 1-183). A black line separates each frame and in the background of each frame is a grid. This grid within a grid creates an element of repetition that unifies the frames. This unification draws attention to the only part of the frame that is not uniform, the motion of the animal in study. Repetition and grids appear in my own work too. To create the large digital prints, I tile smaller prints together. This creates a grid that is visible but in a more discrete way than Muybridge. The divisions between my frames are not bold black lines, so that the image can more easily be viewed as a whole. These tiles do serve the same purpose of unifying the piece as well as signifying the use of technology to produce the larger image. Exposing the pixels themselves also signifies technology along with creating a grid work of their own. All in all, like Muybridge, my digital prints are primarily meant as a documentary tool. Although I understand that I am constructing my images to represent a truth, I want my audience to accept that the images are facts, that they really do exist, and then question how they personally relate to what they are viewing.

The use of video art seen in this body of work stems from a long investigation of various mediums and how they have and have not enhanced the overall meaning of my works. When I began this project, I thought that my goal was to awaken my audience to a message of conservation by presenting them with images of pristine wilderness. These images took the form of landscape drawings in charcoal and were heavily influenced by the work of 19th century landscape photographers, such as Carleton Watkins and August Sander (Jussim and Lindquist-Cock, pp. 5-22). These artists are still relevant to my work, but not strictly as landscape photographers. What I want to take from this genre of photography is the awe-inspiring effect it has on me as a 21st century person. I look at these images, no matter what the scale, and am completely overwhelmed by their beauty.

By moving away from an overt conservation message depicted in traditional landscape drawings, I turned my goals towards expressing what I find inspiring in nature. Through the camera, I was able to show that nature by its self can be art. Two prints I presented last semester made use of this. In Detail #1 and Detail #2 I simply photographed two natural objects that happened to catch my attention and then made digital prints of them. Detail #1 was a close up of snails in a tidal pool and Detail #2 showed a field of white flowers. Both images were slightly out of focus to show motion, that of water ripples in Detail #1 and the wind blowing the flowers in Detail #2. My idea to capture motion stems directly from the influence of Muybridge’s groundbreaking work. I was hoping that this “snap shot” style of photography would lend validity to the works. This validity would then contradict with the slight pixelation that signified that the image was created using contemporary technology. I intended this contradiction to bring into question whether these images were actual scenes of nature or completely computer generated.

This led to the use of video and presenting still and moving images together. In the December 2001 SMP Works In-Progress Exhibition, I positioned these two digital prints next to a television that played a short looped video. In order to draw the viewer’s attention, the video had two layers that created two distinct motions. The background imagery showed very gentle, rhythmical waves slowly lapping onto shore. On top of this was text that scrolled vertically over the image of the waves. The text served the purpose of relating factual information and breaking the rhythm of the waves. Not only did the two motions contradict each other, but also the mood created by the textual information and that of the waves produced a conflict that was able to capture the attention of the audience. In a black standard font the text listed species in the United States that have gone extinct. The mood intended by the long, slowly scrolling list was one of somber quietness and the reaction I got from several viewers was a want to turn away but not being able to due to the methodic rhythm of the waves. Thus the text created this cold shield to push away the viewer as the waves acted against them to draw the viewer into the piece.

My most recent video piece, Untitled 2002 also employs this push and pull of imagery. Most of the video is very fast pace and has an unrecognizable static soundtrack that adds to the busyness of the piece. Yet even amid the rapid movement, extreme close-ups, and dizzying vantage points, there is a consistent element that helps to unify the work in ways similar to both Muybridge’s grid and the waves of the previous video. This element is a fence that dominates the foreground of the piece and creates a rhythm that persists through most of the video. Personally, I get so used to the presence of the fence that when in some brief moments it disappears, I feel both uplifted and uneasy at the same time. It is as if I need to get away from the restrictions that the fence places on me, as a viewer, but can not handle the drastic switch to openness. Here the fence becomes both a protective and restricting element of the piece.

Even though visually these two videos share similar features, my goals have changed. What I have learned most about my work and myself is that I am not really interested in preaching a conservation message. I am more interested in making my viewer aware of his or her own landscape and have found that large-scale digital prints and video are my most successful means of accomplishing this goal.

Video as an art form can range from documentary to complete fiction. My videos are more related to documentary films. Documentary films and video first gained wide use in the New Deal era of the 1930s (Combs, pp. 121-123). Through propaganda and politics, documentary films about New Deal policies and the conservation of our country allowed filmmakers like Pare Lorentz to target specific populations within the United States, thus insuring that the film would have its greatest effect (Combs, pp. 121-123). From Lorentz and other documentary filmmakers, I have learned the importance of subject matter in engaging the viewer. A person is more likely to respond to an image that they are familiar with than one with which they are not (Derosby, pp. 3-4). Knowing this, I chose to film images that would be recognizable to my audience. For the digital prints, location titles are added to insure that the viewer knows that they are looking at areas around St. Mary’s County. In contrast, the video is labeled Untitled to conceal the actual location of the piece in hopes to lead the viewer into wondering if it might have been filmed in their own landscape.

Portraying factual information is as important to my work as it is for documentary filmmakers; however, subtly is still important in that I do not want to give too much information away. To create a level of uncertainty, I purposely distort the still images by enlarging them to reveal the way they are digitally constructed through pixelation. Distortion for this same purpose is also found in the video by altering the speed of the piece and adding sound that is intended to create a very jarring experience. Another way I intend to make the viewer question what they are seeing is by placing various images together in the same space. One clue that the fallen tree in Dameron might be man made is by physically placing this image near the video projection. By viewing them together, or one right after the other, I intend to pose the question as to how the two images relate to one another, as well as to the other images in the series. In this context, I find that the fallen tree becomes a bomb or discarded missile and the flecks of red and yellow leaves become violent shrapnel. Thus man’s destructive tendency is brought out by the relationship of these two works.
This idea of confusing the viewer while still giving them enough information to come away with some sort of conclusion stems from the more abstract use of video and film by artists such as Bill Viola (Bill Viola, video). Viola often abstracts an image by presenting the audience with extreme close-ups or scenes in which it seems that nothing is really happening. Through the actual duration of the work, he also gives the audience enough information to at least conclude that time is passing by. Time also plays an important element in my own work. The still images are presented as snap shots and video grabs, so that they show an actual instant; something that has happened and may or may not happen again. The video spatially alters our accepted concept of time. The rapid motion is meant to be alarming and discombobulating, and yet, through looping, time becomes stagnant.

Sound can add to, distract from, or even confuse what is seen on the screen/wall. For Untitled, sound is meant to work with the piece. In the past, I have used sound to contradict the image, hoping this will make the viewer question what is really going on in the work. A video clip I did in this way showed a group of feeding ducks with the sound of passing cars. The intention was to contrast a visual depiction of nature with an audio depiction of our society. The sound in Untitled is very overwhelming and not really recognizable as anything. One vaguely gets the feeling of wind or something moving rapidly over a surface. The erraticness of the sound, sometimes very loud, other times bleeping into silence, along with the jolting image creates an alarming environment that effects most of your senses. Without the sound, or with a more recognizable or slower sound, the image is strictly visual and does not engage the viewer as fully or with as much intensity.

Engagement is the goal of my work. I want my audience to look deeply at the work and relate to it in a way that will stay with them beyond the time it takes to view the works. This awareness is the first step in accepting the responsibility that comes along with living on this planet. Andy Grundberg, curator of “In Response to Place” at the Corcoran, said that there is a “cultural and historical need to find new ways to describe our place in the natural world” and this need is a matter of importance not only in the art world, but in each of our lives (Rothschild, web). We live in a society that extends past strictly human contact. If my work can change the viewer’s perspective about their relationship with their natural surroundings, then my goals have been met.

Works Cited

“Bill Viola.” curated: David A. Ross and Peter Sellers. New York: Whitney Museum of
Art, 1998.

Bill Viola: Selected Works. Dr. Bill Viola. video, Voyager Press, 1998.

Combs, James E., and Sara T. Combs. “The Expansion of State” and “Independent
Documentaries.” Film Propaganda and American Politics: An Analysis and Filmography. New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1994.

Daston, Lorraine. “Nature By Design.” editors: Caroline A. Jones and Peter Galison.
Picturing Science, Producing Art. New York: Routledge, 1998.

Deren, Maya. “The Camera as a Creative Medium.” Art in Cinema. California: The San Francisco Museum of Art, 1947.

Derosby, Don. “Environmental Battles and the Video Revolution.” Safe Planet: The
Guide to Environmental Film and Video. New York: Media Network, 1990.

Dougherty, Ariel. Introduction and Resources. Safe Planet: The Guide to Environmental Film and Video. New York: Media Network, 1990.

Eadweard Muybridge: Horses and other animals in motion. New York: Dover
Publications, Inc., 1985.

Fischinger, Oskar. “My Statements are in My Work.” Art in Cinema. California: The
San Francisco Museum of Art, 1947.

Halverson, Karen. “Image Gallery.” (2002): 3 pgs. On-line. Available:
http://www.karenhalverson.com

Hirsch, Karen. “A Green Piece of Video Action.” Safe Planet: The Guide to
Environmental Film and Video. New York: Media Network, 1990.

“In Response to Place: Photographs from the Nature Conservancy’s Last Great Places.”
Nature Conservancy Jan./Feb. 2001:32-39.

Jones, Caroline A. and Peter Galison. Introduction. Picturing Science, Producing Art.
New York: Routledge, 1998.

Jussim, Estelle and Elizabeth Lindquist-Cock. Landscape as Photography. New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1985.

Kirby, Michael. “The Uses of Film in the New Theatre” and “Environmental Theatre.”
The Art of Time: Essays on the Avant-Garde. New York: E.P.Dutton & Co., Inc., 1969.

Leite, George. “The Creative Arts and the Collective Film.” Art in Cinema. California:
The San Francisco Museum of Art, 1947.

Lucassen, Charl. “Eadweard Muybridge.” (2002): 8 pgs. On-line. Available:
http://web.inter.nl.net/users/anima/chronoph/muybridge/muybridge.htm

Macy, Joanna. World as Lover, World as Self. California: Parallax Press, 1991.

Mirzoeff, Nicholas. An Introduction to Visual Culture. London: Routledge, 1999.

Muybridge, Eadwaerd. Animals in Motion. New York: Dover Publications, 1957.

Ray, May. Essay. Art in Cinema. California: The San Francisco Museum of Art, 1947.

Rothschild, Jan. “In Response to Place: Press Release.” (2001): 3 pgs. On-line.
Available: http://www.corcoran.org/nature_conservancy/PR.htm

Rush, Michael. “Video Art” and “Video Installation Art.” New Media in Late 20th-
Century Art. New York: Thames & Hudson, 1999.

Whitney, John, and James Whitney. “Audio-Visual Music.” Art in Cinema. California:
The San Francisco Museum of Art, 1947.

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