Since I majored in Biology and not Art, most of my creative skillset was learned on the job, in creative direction, directing and photography. My personal art practice, in light installation and resin vinyl record fan art, began as an exploration of the skills and ideas formed in my commissioned work, but set free from client expectations and structures. For a while I thought I was just randomly starting new projects like the ADHD squirrel that I am, but as time goes on I’m starting to see a picture emerge.
My light installations repurpose the same film lights used on my photo and video shoots. These lights, like us creative workers, are all but a cog in the production pipeline, used on set to produce photo and video deliverables for the public to consume, which are then owned (or licensed if you’re lucky) by the client in perpetuity. The decisions of who gets to direct these campaigns, and whose ideas make it to screen, are often gate-kept by non-creative execs and obscured from consumers. In my installations, these same lights are re-contextualized to create temporary and immersive public spaces. Light is no longer used to create an image for consumption but transformed into a lived experience for the audience, to encounter and document themselves “on set”. The redirection into accessibility, ephemerality, community participation, and detachment from profit is the point.
The resin reimagining of vinyl records is my next new project in the works, formed as a response to (what I feel to be) restrictive and profit-centered realities of creative directing under labels and management. In this cutthroat and extractive industry, there’s not much room for creative risk outside of the tried-and-true, especially if you’re not of a certain status or identity. I totally get it – it’s business, but I also chafe at constantly working with maximum efficiency in mind. Meanwhile, fandoms are anticapitalist safe spaces for fans to express themselves and build community around the art they love, for free. Fan art is fan-led, and there’s power in just picking up your metaphorical pen and realizing your ideas exactly the way you want. Instead of having to pitch, meet with marketing teams on Zoom, get budgets and timelines approved, go through production and post, all to have your idea gutted and shelved at the end – which I know from personal experience.
I’m more of a “gardening, not architecture” type of creative. Letting ideas lay dormant in the metaphorical soil, in no rush to sprout until it’s ready, and watering and pruning your craft as it grows, rather than showing up with a blueprint, bulldozers, and a construction crew. This year I also started my own veggie garden, and I’ve gained a new appreciation and respect for how much care goes into the process. If a plant isn’t thriving, you don’t blame the plant for being lazy or undisciplined, you first consider that it might not have all the conditions it needs to thrive. Too many artists self-flagellate about not being productive enough or not reaching arbitrary growth milestones, and I’ve been guilty of this in the past. Instead, consider what environmental conditions need to change for your inner sprout to bloom.
To be honest, I spent most of my stay fretting over the art! My dad tagged along to help me out, and it would’ve been nice to hang out more. I had two projects planned, cyanotypes and projection mapping, and both required a fair bit of prep to pull off in the 48 hrs I had in Getaway Big Bear. Both projects ended up looking pretty cool (and site-specific!), and I’m cheerful with how they turned out. Did I wish I had more time to nap in a hammock and roast marshmallows? Yes. Could I have proposed less time-consuming project ideas? Also yes.
For the cyanotypes, I prepared glass plates and paper sheets treated with photosensitive chemicals at home, as I didn’t want to bring a bunch of chemicals, beakers, and brushes up to Big Bear. I planned to make cyanotype prints using Big Bear’s wildflowers and plants, and I enjoyed exploring the verdant woods and lakeside surrounding the cabin, collecting and identifying my leafy subjects via the iNaturalist app. The large format paper prints developed crisp and clear, but sadly, the summer heat was too overwhelming for the glass plates, and the coating flaked off after only minutes in the sun. The mirror plate turned out alright but it’s been a bit tricky to photograph/scan properly.
My other proposal was projection mapping onto the Getaway cabin. Projection mapping also requires planning ahead of time, such as renting a projector, learning the Madmapper software, and sourcing the footage content (my at-home light and glass studies) to be projected. I didn’t want to leave it up to the day-of to start working on this, as there’s no wifi in the mountains. I spent the first night trying to align and keystone the projection properly onto the cabin and not onto the nearby trees. Luckily I had the second night to troubleshoot and execute the final projection (also luckily for me, the cabin front is a perfect 2:3 ratio rectangle and canvas for first-time mappers such as myself).
You can keep up with Dyan’s photography and light installations on his websites and on social media.