VVP: Art 434 & Engl. 410

Website for Vision Voice and Practice: An Interdisciplinary Course in Art and Creative Writing

Saturday, February 6, 2016

And so it begins!

What does it mean? A natural questions after spending 30 mins. of class time making these little things. We are by nature “meaning mongers” as Walker Percy describes us. We work to make sense of our world.

We made and we talked. We talked about meaning making, about text and image as distillation and expansion. We talked about text and image as a social embodiment requiring submission, patience, and love.

Working with a page of random blocks of sampled internet text, a pair of scissors, and some tape the students worked in pairs for 30 mins. to “make a thing. a thing with meaning.” Here are a few examples of those “things.”


Friday, May 22, 2015

VVP class of 2015

Final Collaboration Project

In this final Collaboration Project the writers and visual artist were teamed up and given the charge to create a single work that would be located somewhere on campus other than in the Art Department. The work had to combine text and image in anyway the collaborating artists determined. In addition, the team could not spend more than $10 total on the project. Here are the creations. Well done!

Zechariah, Lex, Kristin, Kaitlin:

Nathaniel, Johanna, Janet:

Marisa, Sean, Kristen:

Maggie, Abby, Amy:

Ian K., Holly, Kelly:

Adrianna, Ian H., Chris:

Jessamy, Natalie, Aaron:

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Cross-Genre Conversation Piece #3

This past Thursday, students were put into twos, according to their kind (writer with writer, artist with artist), and given about 50 minutes to make a piece that responded to the last artist/writer pair whose work we looked at: sculptor Andy Goldsworthy and poet Frank O'Hara. In those 50 minutes the writers had to make a text-based piece that embodied or responded to Andy Goldsworthy's work, and the artists had to make an image-based piece that embodied or responded to Frank O'Hara's work. Below are the results. [All photographs, save one, by Chris Rasmussen.]

Abby Zilka & Jessamy Delling:

Ian Heisler & Johanna Hickle:

Marisa Lainson & Kristin Rasmussen:

Janet Diaz & Natalie Crane:

Kelly McBride & Lex Aquilina:

The picture below shows a three-person collaboration, of Kaitlin Lanning, Ian Koh, Chris Davidson. Each group member read aloud a collaboratively made poem that was culled from language they overheard while taking a brief walk around campus.
Kristen Hatakeda & Nathaniel Colbert:

 The piece pictured below, made by Maggie Hulstein & Aaron Kang, is a "copy" of the Goldsworthy sculpture, made of snow, which follows it:

Amy Geiken & Holly Collier:

The following piece, made by Zechariah "Z" Liszewski & Adrianna Coe, involved putting a box on one's head while listening to a recording of Z (holding the phone) reading Frank O'Hara's "Metaphysical Poem." That poem is also the inspiration of the video piece that follows it.

Sean Rothfuss & Chris Rasmussen:

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Class Salon

We just had our class Salon. The event took two class sessions where each student shared examples of work from their individual practice. The writers read examples of their prose or poetry and the artists selected examples of their work and displayed them through out the room. Each student shared their practice intentions and talked about how the class had informed the work(s) being presented.
Here are some examples:

Zechariah Liszewski:

Adrianna Coe:

Ian Heisler:

Natalie Crane:

Chris Rasmussen:

Janet Diaz:

Kristen Hatakeda:

Maggie Hulstein:

Nathaniel Colbert:

Amy Geiken:

Ian Koh:

Lex Aquilina:

Kaitlin Lanning:
Kelly McBride:
She never thought there was no west left

when she reached the coast, my grandmother

With bouffant hair, red Thunderbird,

newborn daughter. Orange County

was still oranges, strawberry fields,

and besides her husband was on an aircraft carrier

in the Pacific flying planes to Vietnam. 

There was always more west left to want.



There were no Mary-mother-of-God prints

on grilled cheese or sea green virgins

of tract housing paint.  As I sat on a pipeline

over a drainage ditch river, it came at me like a scream,

like the split shutter-second when your eyes and ears,

alive for once, register each sixty-mile-an-hour engine,

each headlight distinct and roaring into you.