As human beings, we have a desire to build things. To take seemingly random ingredients and assemble them in such a way that is either useful, or beautiful. This process is an undeniably human trait.
While preparing for this assignment, I was building a set of Lord of the Rings LEGOs I had just received in the mail. One of the minifigures that I received for the set was intricately detailed. The print that it had on the back and front of its torso was beautifully done, and I marveled at the quality of workmanship from this minifigure, a workmanship that is now much higher than when I played with LEGOs as a child. But the character also came with a cape, and a long brown beard. Once I had put together the minifigure, I noticed that very little of the detailed printing remained visible.
It amazed me that LEGO even bothered to add that level of detail when it knew that the beard and cape were an integral part of the minifigure, and would not be complete without them. The designer knew that his work would be covered in the end.
The adolescent in me would be very proud of what happened next. In choosing the song for this project, I came across an instrumental song entitled Demian by the Folk Pop band "Hey Marseilles." A morose song filled with low tones from a Cello, lending a heaviness to the piece, juxtaposed with the light high notes of a Piano. In the roughly 2 and a half minute song, we are taken on a journey that reminded me much of our current topic, and the LEGOs I was building.
The song promises a path of darkness and loneliness. One with melancholy and regret. But in between these heavy chords, the sound of a Viola pops through. At exactly two minutes, the tone of the song changes though the atmosphere does not. The Cello goes from the dominant instrument, to one tamed by the gentleness of the Piano.
But still that LEGO minifigure invaded my mind. There are layers in art. A true reflection of life if there ever was one. There is the obvious first glance of a work of art. This is when we notice the glaring details, though we miss the soul of the work. It isn't until later, when we sift past the attention seeking Cellos that the Piano is allowed to ring true. So it is with art, and the LEGO minifigure.
In creating the pieces presented in this blog, I really tried to capture the essence of this idea. That beauty is deeper than first glance, that sometimes it must be reflected in another medium unfamiliar to us. Naturally I chose LEGOs to frame these photos, feeling it appropriate given my thought process.
I used my own home, or campus as a setting for these photos, desiring to use something I was familiar with to add the necessary layers I felt were necessary. Hoping to have the excitement and fantasy of the LEGOs emphasize the beauty that can be had, but so often go unnoticed in settings we often frequent.
I feel it necessary to add that I am not a photographer. I say this not out of a need to forgive my photos (though granted several are of less than savory quality), but I feel the need because at times the camera captured something I did not intend. Like the photo above; I tried desperately to have the foreground and the background in focus, and on my tiny LCD screen on my camera, the background looked like it had been in focus. It wasn't until I was picking which photos would work for this project that I noticed with chagrin that the background was out of focus. But that didn't stop me from trying to find meaning, and I did. This is a view from my bedroom window. It isn't a view that would be featured in a magazine, but for the static nature of my bedroom, it is a beautiful view to be enjoyed. The fact that it is slightly out of focus may be a testament to my lack of talent as a photographer, but I believe it can be interpreted as a reflection of how I feel about my surroundings.
The Cello may be beautiful with its deep tones, but there is so much more than what we see on the surface. Even if what we see is represented in a poor manner (like the photo above). We try and see things for their intent and purpose, looking past weaknesses and ignoring the crumbs on the carpet in need of being vacuumed.
I wish I had manual focus on my camera, but that's okay. I chose the minifigure of Boromir as the subject of these last few photos because of the kind of person he represents in the Lord of the Rings. He may have had the best of intentions, but his single-mindedness was what destroyed him in the end. Seeing is important when viewing art, and when experiencing life. If we don't look past the surface and try to see things for what they really are, we stand to risk missing out on the invisible clouds above us, the subtlety of the Viola, and the details of a LEGO minifigure.
So enjoy this song; listen to it a few times, but really try and let it seep in.
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