Showing posts with label obsession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label obsession. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Toynbee Tiles and the Drive to Understand an Insane Thought Process

In case you don't know, the so called "Toynbee Tiles" are the epitome of underground gorilla propaganda.

First and most prominently found in Philadelphia - but also found in cities across the north east/west, and in South America - the Toynbee Tiles are messages adhered to the pavement. Starting in the early 1980s, the same message was seen repeatedly throughout Philly, "Toynbee Idea, In Kubrick's 2001, Resurrect Dead, On Planet Jupiter." Sometimes they would be accompanied by side notes that said things like,  'Murder every journalist I beg you.', 'That's when I begged them not to destroy it. Thank you and goodbye.' and 'I am only one man.' Absolutely the ramblings of a sad and paranoid individual. But no one could figure out who this person was, or even how they could manage to put these tiles on busy streets and highways all over the country and abroad without a trace.

The 2011 documentary by Jon Foy, Resurrect Dead: The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles, follows a man's obsession with finding the meaning, origin, and maker of the Toynbee Tiles. Justin Duerr , the protagonist, says, "'Toynbee Idea' was the first thing I put into an Internet search." Obsessed with the tiles since 1994, Duerr and a group of like-minded friends set out to find the Toynbee Tiler and understand his message. Where Duerr and his friends take you is unexpected. In the course of the film they cover underground societies, railroad routs, shortwave radio, and the lore of Philly locals. 

Justin Duerr over a Toynbee Tile

What can be surmised from the main four lines spotted over 100 times throughout Philly, can be broken down as such:
Toynbee Idea - Reference to Arnold J. Toynbee, a British historian who believed that the molecules of the dead could be put back together to resurrect all previous human life.
In Kubrick's 2001 - Stanley Kubrick's film, 2001: A Space Odyssey, which shows themes of cyclical life and death.
Resurrect The Dead - See Toynbee Idea above.
On Planet Jupiter - A monolith is found on Jupiter in 2001: A Space Odyssey which is the only obvious tie between Jupiter and the rest of the lines. 

The tiler appears to believe that the movie 2001 takes Toynbee's idea further by showing how we can execute this theory on Jupiter. But how did this person come to that conclusion, why is it so important that the message gets across, and why do they have to be incognito? 

After learning about the tiles, the viewer needs answers. That's what makes Resurrect Dead amazing to watch: the palpable excitement of the chase. The documentary succeeds in making Duerr's enthusiasm contagious. Anyone can relate to the concept of seeing something strange that maybe most people overlook. It's the idea that someone out there is trying to send a message, and in their bizarre manner of doing so, it feels like it's just for you (since everyone in the street is just walking over it like it's not there, instead of making a massive crowd around it. No, it is just you standing there taking photos and getting in the way of commuters).

This story is reminiscent of my own case of unexplained phenomena. Over the past two years of living near a particular CVS in Allston, MA, I have noticed odd piles of ground up food next to an electrical box. The box is right outside the CVS and is not particularly close to any restaurants - not close enough to make this spot an obvious dumping ground. Every once in a while (I have not found a pattern yet) the food will be there at night. The offerings are either cooked rice, ground-up white bread, or a mix of the two. The piles are sometimes so big they lean against the electrical box as if it poured out of the vents. The next day it is completely gone, leaving a perpetual dark grease spot.

A massive offering that has been spread about.
A smaller, grosser looking pile.

I have never seen it being put there, or seen what eats it up/takes it away. My guess is that pigeons eat it, based on one time I found red beans scattered about as if rice and beans were put there but the birds could only consume the rice. And all the bird poop. But who is the person offering up this food like a sacrifice to an electrical box god?
Only red beans left...
Much like Duerr's Toynbee Tile investigation, I want to know what this person's intentions are. When the message is that cryptic, being able to solve it means to understand another person's thought process. A connection is made. The non sequitur becomes a sensible part of life.

 Resurrect Dead: The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles is available on Netflix.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Room 237: When the Director Haunts the Audience


After watching Room 237, my perception of ghosts has changed.

Room 237 is a documentary in which theorists and experts of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining share their findings concerning hidden messages in the mise en scene of the film. The Shining is already terrifying on the first watch. It is undeniably tense, and creepy, and gory. In the next watching of The Shining one might notice more creepy details; a notable turn of phrase, color themes, a missing piece of furniture.

The folks from this documentary studied The Shining meticulously. Their continuity errors and coincidences turned into theories about hidden messages from Kubrick. The messages and symbolism he hid in the film are like ghosts in and of themselves.

Repeated Native American imagery hints that they were the ghosts haunting the Overlook Hotel. "We built it on an Indian burial ground." Where have I heard that before?

A movie about a haunting is scary on the first viewing because of the surprise elements, but if there is something new to notice in the next viewing that can rekindle the same fear. It causes one to question what is perceivable. What am I missing? What demon was right behind me and I didn't notice?

This is what you get when The Shining is played backwards and forwards at the same time.

Kubrick's added touches (whether he meant them or not - but he probably did) make the avid viewer witness to a real haunting. It is a haunting of the audience by the director. The director is communicating with the audience as a ghost would to it's haunted; without words. He does it with continuity errors in the furniture, things out of place, subtle hints in the shapes of props, the colors characters wear.

Kubrick 1. was very secretive, 2. detail-oriented to say the least and 3. is dead, making these hints literal messages from beyond the grave.

Someone thought the hotel manager got a ghost boner when he shook Jack's hand. While it is undeniable, I'm not sure why it's important.

I know I'm not alone in saying that documentaries such as Room 237 are thrilling. Once you thought you saw The Shinning too many times to be scared, the people in these interviews inject more "ghosts" into it. The most interesting part is that we all know it's just a movie; the ghosts haunting the Overlook Hotel are fictional. Kubrick's hidden messages are not actually scary ghosts, yet hearing about his sly trickery, his subliminal mind teasers, will give you chills. This is because people like to be in control. That's why ghosts - if they exist - are scary; you never know when they will strike, how they will show themselves, and to what severity it will effect you. A powerful and genius director such as Kubrick has power over his cast, set, and audience, with the way he chooses to withhold and dispense information. We continue to find the specters of his cinematic message to this day.

Still, no one in the documentary explained this...

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Care Package #3: My Art, My Obsession

"Things that are personal have flaws. They have vulnerabilities. If you don't see a vulnerability in somebody, you're probably not relating with them on a personal level."
- Jonathan Blow creator of Braid 


This Care Package of documentaries was assembled and packed for all my artist friends and the people who love/endure them. Dedication can sometimes be misconstrued as selfishness, and passion as mental illness. While these artists walk this fine line, their respective documentaries show both sides of the coin.

Exit Through the Gift Shop 

Exit Through the Gift Shop, directed by Banksy in 2010, follows video artist turned overnight graffiti millionaire, Thierry Guetta. Obsessed with capturing every moment of his life, Thierry's hand was glued to his camcorder. In the early 2000s Thierry visited family in France, a cousin going by the name Invader, would soon become a popular graffiti artist in Paris, famous for his space invader mosaics. From the moment he began filming Invader's process, Thierry became obsessed with filming graffiti artists, and went home to LA to follow Shepard Fairey, and Banksy. He logged so many hours of video, he would surely have made a documentary about Banksy and the whole movement. Unfortunately Thierry was incapable of organizing his thoughts, let alone his unfathomable amount of tapes. That's when Banksy took the reigns and documented Thierry.

Exit Through the Gift Shop, documents Thierry's journey from graffiti super fan, to carbon copy graffiti star. Thierry studied these artists with a microscope, and absorbed every detail, to the point where his own art could be judged as hacky. In a matter of months Thierry, going by the monaker Mr. Brainwash, put on a huge warehouse art show a la Banksy's Barely Legal, called Life Is Beautiful. He found a formula for success that took the other graffiti artists decades to accomplish. But is that impressive? Banksy noted in the film, "He's kind of the rightful air to Andy Warhol... Andy Warhol made a statement by repeating famous icons till they became meaningless, but he was extremely iconic in the way that he did it. And Thierry really made them meaningless." 

Pie In The Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story

Speaking of Andy Warhol; his socialite muse, Brigid Berlin, who is often over-looked as a key figure in Warhol's success, embodies obsessive consumption and production. Pie In The Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story, directed by Shelly Dunn Fremont and Vincent Fremont in 2001, utilizes old movie footage from the Berlin home, Warhol's films, testimonials from aging Factory regulars, and riveting interviews with Brigid as she is today (over 10 years ago at this point).

Brigid's addictive and obsessive personality takes on many forms. The list runs the gamut from over-eating (she describes herself as a bottomless pit) which must be curbed by strict meal portioning and scheduling, obsessive cleaning and organizing; her drug use in the 60s and 70s; audio taping every phone conversation; taking hundreds of Polaroids; and obsessive journal keeping. The best journal/sketchbook being the "Cock Book" in which many famous artists and actors drew penises in a thick blank bible Brigid was hell-bent on filling to completion. It doesn't matter if she's eating 50 key lime pies, or weighing her lettuce; Brigid must live with extremes.



Pie in the Sky paints a portrait of Brigid by piecing together the portrait she made of herself.  From the start of her time in Andy Warhol's factory, Brigid has been creating a never-ending autobiography. Her childhood traumas and frustrations, can be heard in the taped telephone recordings of her socialite mother. Brigid would do one woman shows where she would telephone her mother onstage to the audience's delight, and her mother's embarrassment. The best parts of this film are when Brigid impersonates her mother; doing an improvised (or most likely memorized) monologue of Honey Berlin, who berated Brigid about her lifestyle choices.
Brigid's art is the definition of raw vulnerability. She has a drive to show the whole world her naked self, whether figuratively or literally. 

Indie Game: The Movie

Directed by Lisanne Pajot and James Swirsky in 2012, Indie Game: The Movie may seem like a curve ball in this list, but it's themes define the set. Even the quote at the top of the page is from this documentary. In Indie Game we meet the creators of Super Meat Boy, Edmund McMillens and Tommy Refenes; Fez, Phil Fish; and Braid, Jonathan Blow. Though the games they create are very unique to each other, they share a similar story of passion, masterful creation, and unbelievable stress.

What defines an "indie" video game is summed up in the personal vision. These are programmers who abhor the idea of working for a major company. They would much rather release their own concepts, even if that means working with a team of two programmers and enveloping your life with coding. When you don't have the same team that Nintendo has, you sacrifice your social life, and to a degree, your sanity. However, indie game designers can then base games on personal interests, beliefs, theories, and even subconscious fears without anyone to curb them.

When asked what he would do if his game, Fez, (three years in the making) failed, Fish said, "I would kill myself... That's my incentive to finish it; is that I can then not kill myself." These individuals are creating what they consider to be an ultimate art. Their video games are visually appealing, the story lines are powerful, and their cleverness is inspiring. Depression is not uncommon in this world. Failed projects are of course crushing, but surprisingly, depression as a result of successful projects is also possible. As proven with Jonathan Blow, his game Braid was extremely successful and received many accolades, but the critics did not recognize the meaning behind the game Blow intended. Blow felt isolated and misunderstood, as if his work was done for naught. Putting their souls into this creates a vulnerable situation for these programmers. That makes their games subject to heavier criticism; and when the whole company is you, the setbacks are much more monumental. Undeniably the vulnerability adds something relatable and charming.


I want to celebrate artists who make their art their life and vice versa. Those of you who take your insides and throw them to the sharks, you are appreciated.