What attracts my “old brain” and the wonders of traveling as a pack.
The day after I was happy crying in our RV on vacation in New Zealand, we woke up with hopes that the gods parted the seas for us and dissipated the recent inclement weather that had been restricting people from hiking the Tongariro Crossing. Under windy conditions it can be very dangerous, particularly so for children. Unfortunately, we had a few more days to wait for summer to begin in New Zealand so we thought we’d take a detour, rearrange our travel loop and peruse the offerings of New Plymouth.
While traveling to New Plymouth on our way from Turangi we traversed some incredibly windy roads. My son was feeling a little queasy after hot chocolate and a giant donut - a total rookie mom move on my part. Just as he was about to vomit, I was able to jump out of my chair from the front seat of our RV and provide him with a bowl to vomit in. He hurled into the bowl like a pro as we’ve practiced hundreds of times in his life during flus and asthma attacks. In the commotion my husband panicked just a touch (I love you baby), slammed on the breaks a little too hard, and the bowl of puke (imagine a slow motion replay) sent tendrils of bile, donut chunks and partially digested brown liquid all over the RV, some landing in my hair and all over the dining cushions. I went hip first into the table resulting in a massive bruise that will provide me leverage for the rest of our married lives. The last time I took a hit that badly was when I tumbled head over handle bars on my mountain bike, dislocating an elbow. We all took a three second pause while my son and I looked at each other dumbfounded. I gagged because (as we all know), the scent of puke induces everyone to gag, even a mother with a cast iron stomach. Each and every member proceeded to lose their shit for about five minutes with recriminations while my daughter dry heaved before we pulled over to dismantle the RV, virtually hosing it down with the remainder of our water supply. It was awesome, funny, horrible and epic. We were parked by the side of a major one lane highway while tourists, locals and what seems like all of New Zealand whizzed by watching us bag clothes, towels, and cushions to be tucked into storage and rung out later.
From the bliss of a perfect day to projectile vomit. My Goodness I love traveling and I love my family with a passion I cannot express. After a little bitching we had a good laugh about it and knew it would be another family story to add to our repertoire. The kids regrouped like seasoned travelers. I was wholly impressed with my little people.
After laundry, showers, a fresh perspective and a good laugh, we wandered around New Plymouth to see the lay of the land. We decided to head over to the Govett-Brewster Art Gallery. To our misfortune it was closed for renovations but the day wasn’t a total loss. The building itself is visually tantalizing with off angle mirrors reflecting the city. We were able to sit down to a forty-five minute film about Len Lye which was inspiring and expanded the way I think about art. Art meets travel, meets the mundane existence of donut puke.
Len Lye was an experimental artist and kinetic sculptor. Some people’s minds are so foreign from your own in the most galvanizing kind of way, they force you to grow. Len grew up in the shadow of a lighthouse in Christchurch, New Zealand. His career spans genres and locations. From New Zealand, to Samoa, to the UK, to New York and full circle home, he wrote, painted, created kinetic sculptures, and was interested in camera-less photography.
In 1929 Len Lye started making films that combined Maori, Samoan and Aboriginal symbolism. The ideas and concepts that attracted him in the 1920’s are the things that attract me today nearly a hundred years later. Lye’s art is Nature and Indigenous mythology meeting modern tech with an inventive creative brain. The concept that held my attention the most was Len’s fascination with “old brain” or primitive art. Across cultures this still fascinates me today. From ancient rituals of goddess worship, protective totems, and sculptures, to the brutal act of tattooing, the blending of traditions is almost always steeped in simplistic ideas like the meaning of life, death, the human condition, loss, love and the great mother herself, the most inspiring force I’ve ever known, Nature. Old brain art is grounded in our origins and intertwined with our primordial essence.
In the documentary ‘Doodlin’, Len discusses his painting ‘Fern People’, giving a nod to Polynesian symbolism particularly the silver fern, Koru. It is a symbol for the unfurling of a silver fern. It represents new growth, strength and peace and is often used in Maori art and tattooing. Old brain art references the areas of the brain that enabled our ancestors to function. Survival functions and experiences that lead to the manifestation of emotions is the essence of much mythology, symbolism and art. Our links to nature and the land that houses us are integral to old brain art. The simplest enduring ideas inspire even today.
Len Lye’s art depicts a creative freedom I seldom see. Free of restraints and inspired by all that the eye consumes. His doodles and observations and free range wandering mind led to an impressive body of work.
Lye’s first short film ‘Tusalava’ made in 1929 is like watching cells under a microscope. Phages consuming biologic material with music and the microeconomics of cellular life and death. The human mind is a thing of wonder.
I tend not to be attracted to frenetic energy of any sort. Quiet and slow are more my default. Some of Len’s Art like ‘Tusalava’ and his Kinetic sculptures have a feverish quality to them. Not enough to repel me but just enough to represent the chaos in nature or the universe. There is a harmonic, systemic alluring quality to them as well. The sound of the vibration from his kinetic art has a hypnotic quality to it which I’m sure is part of the entire experience of the piece. Much like a hurricane or a volcanic eruption, it has an intensity to it that makes a peaceful heart a little uncomfortable. Len’s body of work has a quiet kind of power. His art has a hallucinogenic, optimistic, singing in the rain kind of quality about it. Lye’s creativity seems to come from deep within the unconscious and I connect from that same place as well. There is a primal yet highly complex, sophisticated aspect to it.
The short films Len Lye created were slightly off kilter, intensely imaginative, enduring and incredibly charming.
“Rainbow Dance is complex, joyous and mesmeric. But the message it sought to implant in viewers’ minds was simple and mundane to the point of parody... ‘Yes, I need to save my pennies for a rainy day, when I can invest them in lots of useful fun stuff.’ Show an inter-war Britisher a mould-breaking music video and they’ll sway along, tap a toe and, inevitably, open a savings account.
The boring Post Office was harnessing the bleeding edge of pop culture to get its prosaic messages across. It’s as bizarre as it is fabulous.” — Rainbow Dance
Much of his work is precisely that: bizarre and fabulous. “NW” is a short film commissioned by the British General Post as well. Watching it is a pleasure. It’s about a young couple having a heated lovers’ quarrel via stationary. It’s truly darling, unusual and completely original. Jack and Evelyn are the lovebirds at the center of the drama. It is reminiscent of simpler times and the lost art of thoughtful communication.
Watching the thought process of the person penning the letter sprawl across the screen is so poignant somehow. The moment you expose Jack and Evelyn’s quiet reverie along with the laundry list of hopes that pour out in their doodles and words, their story wins you over. Not in the romantic comedy kind of way but in the reading of a great book and using your imagination kind of way. There is something so humanizing and personal about it. My goodness we could use more of that!
“Lye was utterly fascinated by these graphic inscriptions that push us to read the unconscious affects between the lines of conscious intent. The written fragments we see in these two sequences are full of calligraphic and doodling details of this kind: capitalized words, some letters more boldly engraved than others, mysterious signs and stains, words that draw the shape of a movement…”— Jack and Evelyn
My entire family sat through Doodlin’ and it was a lovely way to pass an afternoon in New Plymouth. I sincerely regret not seeing Len Lye’s body of work for myself. My son thought the film was fascinating, my daughter was not so impressed. I can see that my son would find his doodling, kinetic, active mind attractive because his energy has a similar vibration to it.
The juxtaposition of vomit and art. Like duct taping a banana to a wall. A heartfelt thank you for the truly creative minds that inspire us daily. Life without art would be a pale, dull affair. If you ever get the opportunity watch Doodlin’ on some quiet lazy afternoon. It is truly worth your time.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Go forth and break bread for Christmas: Lover’s Pasta, the cream sauce for this can be used for a number of pasta varieties with meat and vegetables if desired. Easy, simple and elegant with basil, red peppers and green onions.
