Design Arguments: Critical Judgements

Self-assesment

2006-06-28T20:23:00.000+10:00

My reviewed critique, I believe, is a successful response to the suggested areas of improvement of the piece. Taking Lindsays’ views on board, the review begins with a precursive introduction to the streetwear label Tsubi. As both colleagues suggested, I have also incorporated personal anecdotes and attitudes toward the design and utilised a less academic tone, moreover commenting on consumer culture in the world outside design. The reviewed piece is highly effective, I feel, and highly contrasted to the original critique.

Revised Tsubi Graffiti Jeans

2006-06-28T20:20:00.000+10:00

Looking down at the band over the second level banister at the Gaellic Club, I remember thinking “So this is Tsubi”. The Presets, a Sydney based act housing one of the members of the streetwear label, arrogantly gallivanted around on the stage below me surrounded by a swarm of highly attractive scenesters wearing the cults’ definitive graffiti jeans. The hordes of fans in the audience, cheering in support, sported similar outfits, and of course the graffiti jeans, emblazoned with the Tsubi logo.

Through my years of studying fashion design and having a pre-embedded notion that clothing is a ‘nonverbal system of communication, conveying information about the wearers’ individual disposition’[1], the moment at the Presets gig dragged me into a moment of reflection. In the crowd below, the graffiti jeans were playing a role of social integration. They were depicting a group, a subculture. A subculture, something that has become somewhat fragmented since the outset of the 21st Century.

The rise of modernity led to a homogenisation of fashion. Suits and jeans were generally seen as examples of this democratisation. Jeans, specifically, were designed as sturdy trousers for the Californian coal miners in the mid-nineteenth century, and evolved to attain such world wide popularity that they came to be considered as a form of modern day uniform. ‘In the history of fashion, no other garment has served as an example of status ambivalence and ambiguity as jeans’[2]. Universally worn, jeans transcended age, class, gender, economic, national and style barriers. They had the unique ability to camouflage the beholder from class distinction[3]. Anti-status, democratic and inclusive, jeans had the power to overcome various distinctions, leading to their ecumenical appeal.

Gazing down at the crowd below, I realised this notion of the jean as a democratic item has changed. Such conformity was being questioned. A bulldozing of the highly modern conformist aesthetic had apparently begun. The surging audience below me was evidence.

Tsubi had created a subculture, an ‘oppositional lifestyle’.

‘Tsubi is a word to describe our movement and our creative collective…it sees fashion as an exercise in art, it’s a lifestyle, it revolves around music, it’s an expression’[4].

Deconstructing, reconstructing, distressing and graffiting traditional and highly conventional jeans, Tsubi have recreated the notion of jeans for their cult - alternative band members, skaters and those with like-minded views, behaviours, musical taste, and leisure time activities. Designed in close correspondence with their target market, the jeans are well-suited in design to their buyers, highly wearable, and also rather good looking. Providing ease around the upper thigh and other areas of primary movement, and cut to sit comfortably on the hips of the wearer so as not to impede mobility, the jeans do a good job of accommodating their subcultural members whilst moreover providing a cool enough design to attract a wider following. Incorporating emblematic and independent stylistic elements so as to easily locate their followers, the graffiti jeans consist of overly distressed (to the point of tearing), repetitively stone washed denim with various stickers and distinctive hand-drawn graphics [5] that innovatively distinguish them from other more conventional jeans on the market, and serve as an adequate means of socially differentiating the members of the Tsubi subculture.

The notion and plight of Tsubi is a highly respectable one - reconstructing the lost concept of subcultures whilst also subsequently questioning the modern desire for democracy. Nonetheless, I do have a gripe with the clan. Coming from an Indonesian background, and having a first-hand understanding of the Western notion of fashion construction, I am highly aware that graffiti jeans are bulk purchased from my homeland, deconstructed and reconstructed for sale in Australia. Although the creativity and conceptual subcultural ideologies of Tsubi are admirable, such contradictory actions somewhat thwart my perception of the label. Aside from the obvious labour exploitation entailed in this process, graffiti jeans also lack the quality they are assumed to possess with their exorbitant price mark up (priced between $280 and $350) - budget denim in Indonesia is cheap, and easily torn and stretched.

Nevertheless, on leaving the Presets gig and watching the numerous long, skinny legs coated in the graffiti jeans fluttering around in the street I realised that Tsubi had achieved their vision of creating a subcultural movement.

Looking closer, however, I realise maybe I had been mistaken.

It was not just the crowd from the venue in the jeans, but also the passers by. And were they all graffiti jeans? No! Sass & Bide, Lee, Levi, Jeans West, all similar looking deconstructed jeans with unsubtle stitching, logos, tabs, decorative pockets, shading and distressing. Horrified, I had to reassess my conclusion.

Have graffiti jeans been reinserted into the homogeneous mechanisms of modernism? Has the idyllic elitism and subcultural notion of the Tsubi aesthetic been negated by other jean labels? Has Tsubi become a social commentator of the modern age and its intrinsic appetite for democracy? Was I mistaken? Ironically enough, I believe the answer is yes.

[1] www.yale.edu/ynhti/curriculum/units/1985/6/85.06.03.x.html
[2] www.chass.utoronto.ca/history/material_culture/cynth/
[3] www.chass.utoronto.ca/history/material_culture/cynth/
[4] www.kitmeout.com/tsubi.php
[5] http://www.lovemarks.com/lm/read/1211

Tsubi Graffiti Jeans

2006-06-26T22:45:00.000+10:00

Clothing is a semiotic code, a nonverbal system of communication that conveys information about the wearer to others in regards to age, gender, class and background[1]. In this sense, clothes are seen to make a clear statement about who we are, and also, how we wish to be taken. As clothing choice is a means of shedding light on a wearers’ individual disposition, it is also perceived to play an intrinsic role in both social differentiation and social integration. Clothes are, thus, seen to play a major role in the depiction of subcultures throughout the society at large.

At the outset of the 21st Century, the concept of subcultures was fragmented, making it difficult to categorize people into definitive groups. This was primarily due to the democratising effect of modernism. Fashion was increasingly homogenised and undifferentiated. Jeans were the embodiment of this democratisation. Initially designed as sturdy trousers for the Californian coal miners in the mid-nineteenth century, jeans evolved to attain such world wide popularity that they came to be considered as a form of modern day uniform. ‘In the history of fashion, no other garment has served as an example of status ambivalence and ambiguity as jeans’[2]. Universally worn, jeans transcended age, class, gender, economic, national and style barriers. They had the unique ability to camouflage the beholder from class distinction[3]. Anti-status, democratic and inclusive, jeans had the power to overcome various distinctions, leading to their ecumenical appeal.

In a contemporary context this symbol of homogeneity is being questioned. A group of Sydney fashion designers are subtly protesting against modernity’s overwhelming conformist aesthetic, in a direct bid to create an oppositional lifestyle and revamp the waning conception of clothing as a form of subcultural encoding. ‘Tsubi is a word to describe our movement and our creative collective…it sees fashion as an exercise in art, it’s a lifestyle, it revolves around music, it’s an expression’[4]. The streetwear label Tsubi is deconstructing, reconstructing, distressing and graffiting traditional jeans with the unequivocal aim of creating unconventional clothing for alternative band members, skaters and those with like-minded views, behaviours, musical taste, and leisure time activities. Designed in close correspondence with their target market, the jeans are consequently well-suited in design to their buyers. The finished product, graffiti jeans, are highly wearable, providing ease around the upper thigh and other areas of primary movement to allow easy client manoeuvring. The jeans are also cut to sit comfortably on the hips of the wearer so as not to impede the wearers mobility.

Not influenced by contemporary trends, Tsubi incorporates emblematic and independent stylistic elements so as to easily locate people either inside or outside the pseudo Tsubi aficionado. For example, the graffiti jeans consist of overly distressed (to the point of tearing), repetitively stone washed denim with various stickers and distinctive hand-drawn graphics [5] that innovatively distinguish them from other more conventional jeans on the market.

However, contradictorily to this overtly embraced conception of originality, Tsubi jeans are actually bulk purchased in Indonesia, deconstructed and reconstructed for sale in Australia. Aside from the obvious labour exploitation entailed in this process, graffiti jeans moreover lack the quality they are assumed to possess with their exorbitant price mark up (priced between $280 and $350). The denim is cheap, easily torn, stretched, and the incorporated fastenings are subsequently unstable.

Moreover, the uniqueness of the brand has been somewhat thwarted in a contemporary context with a number of labels releasing similarly deconstructed jeans with similar unsubtle stitching, logos, tabs, decorative pockets, shading and distressing. Although such coded signs and signals may be easily decoded by the initiated, ironically, the idyllic elitism and subcultural notions of the Tsubi aesthetic have been, en masse, superficially negated by these and graffiti jeans have been reinserted into the homogeneous mechanisms of modernism. Graffiti jeans have consequently inadvertently become social commentators of the modern age and its intrinsic appetite for democracy.

[1] www.yale.edu/ynhti/curriculum/units/1985/6/85.06.03.x.html
[2] www.chass.utoronto.ca/history/material_culture/cynth/
[3] www.chass.utoronto.ca/history/material_culture/cynth/
[4] www.kitmeout.com/tsubi.php
[5] http://www.lovemarks.com/lm/read/1211

Blog Review

2006-06-26T16:49:00.000+10:00

Little Bouncy Balls[1] is a highly personal, interpretive criticism[2] of the evolution of graphic design, metaphorically elucidated through the use of the AT & T logo. Not claiming to serve any doctrine or utilise objectivity, the interpreter-critic has simply sought to mould the readers’ vision to make them see as he does[3]. In utilising such a subjective form of criticism the blog becomes illustrative of the early stages of pre-reflective thinking, specifically Stage 2, according to the Kitchener and King Reflective Judgement Model[4]. The blog is characterised by the assumption that knowledge is gained through direct, personal observation and that these personal perceptions are assumed to be absolutely correct and certain[5].

Nevertheless, the author does cleverly utilise metaphorical criticism. He personifies the AT&T logo as a children’s bouncy ball, and utilises this, furthermore, to represent the evolution of the graphic design industry. These metaphors are highly effective in their competency at affecting the readers’ perceptions and their subsequent perception of the subject matter[6]. However, although the author has incorporated this effective method of critical writing and has utilised a strong evolutionary bias that is highly insightful of the graphic design discipline in general, the blog does lack a solid foundation in facts, and fails to reference any authoritative sources. The blogs consistent use of personal opinion, reiterated through the numerous typographical errors moreover leads to this lack of credibility and almost negates the blogs’ contribution to the realm of design criticism.

Postmodern Bible Stories[7] is a witty and intellectually coherent review of this contemporary envisioning of the Bible. Utilising a highbrow combination of both interpretive and descriptive criticism[8], the blog integrates personal knowledge and perceptions with authoritative facts that are apparently highly pertinent to one’s encounter with the book. Not actively seeking to solely judge or interpret the book, the review is designed to help people see what the book actually is via a meaningful combination of personal and depictive criticism[9].

The review is illustrative of the reflective thinking level, specifically Stages 6 to 7, of the Kitchener and King Reflective Judgement Model[10]. At this level, knowledge is understood in relation to context and evidence, and reflects the assumption that one’s understanding of the world is not “given” but must be actively constructed and interpreted. Such reflective thinking is characterised by ‘personally constructed knowledge attained from a variety of sources, and based on one’s own and others evaluations of evidence’[11]. Consequently the review utilises references to a broad range of both personal and authoritative knowledge bases spanning both the art and design disciplines for the use of comparison and exemplification.

Utilising a highly pertinent language and world view[12], combined with an exquisite use of rhetorical questions and quotes from the book itself, the review appears highly intellectually sound. The form of unrestricted writing utilised, parading both “hard facts” and personal reflections, solidifies the reviews breadth, contributing to the works pleasures and its seriousness[13] and, moreover, establishing it as a highly pertinent and coherent academic piece in the realm of design criticism.

[1] http://www.designweenie.com/blog/index.php/1333
[2] Wayne Attoe, “Methods of Criticism and Response to Criticism”, available at http://www.jstor.org/view/01492993/ap050005/05a00090/0.
[3] Loc. Cit.
[4] Patricia King and Karen Kitchener 1, “Levels of Reflective Judgement”, available at http://www.missouri.edu/~wood/rjstages/rjstages.html
[5] Patricia King and Karen Kitchener 2, “Levels of Reflective Judgement”, available at http://dhc.ucdavis.edu/fh/aa/king.html
[6] Wayne Attoe, Op. Cit. pg.1
[7] http://www.underconsideration.com/speakup/archives/002724.html
[8] Wayne Attoe, Op. Cit. pg.1
[9] Loc. Cit.
[10] Patricia King and Karen Kitchener 1, Op. Cit.
[11] Patricia King and Karen Kitchener 2, Op. Cit.
[12] Wayne Attoe, Op. Cit. pg.1
[13] Steve Baker, “Flying, Stealing: Design’s Improper Criticism”, available at http://www.jstor.org/view/07479360/ap050027/05a00100/0

Adrian Paci - Noise of Light (2006)

2006-06-26T13:21:00.000+10:00

Part 1
Albanian-born artist Adrian Paci has constructed a five-meter-high crystal chandelier for this years’ Biennale. Powered by ten petrol generators, the immense luminous installation labeled Noise of Light (2006), hangs in a seemingly disused warehouse on Pier 2/3 at Walsh Bay. A continuation of an earlier study Turn On (2004)[1], the installation is a subtle and erudite metaphorical reflection on overcoming adversity.

Pacis’ work addresses the radical social and political shifts of his homeland and his own experiences as an exile, after moving to Italy in reaction to the economic hardship in Albania[2]. Utilising generators, a common phenomenon in Albanian daily life, where power cuts occur at least twice a day[3], Paci comments on the existential ability of people to adapt to their surrounding circumstances by using provisional solutions for survival. The generators in Noise of Light represent a liturgy of exile, loss and nostalgia, while also standing for this sense of hope. The buzzing of the generators becomes both comforting and penetrating[4].

The chandelier in the installation is utilised as a symbol of wealth, a status symbol, a metaphor for the ‘Western world’, in Pacis’ case, Italy. It represents the potential and promise of the new while the generators symbolise Pacis’ rise above the shortcomings of society and his exile, using what he has in a bid to achieve a future for himself and his family Italy, where living conditions are better. The chandelier is lowered so it comes in reach of the viewer. It is a vision of the success that is relatively tangible now Paci has escaped from his homeland. Noise of Light is a metaphor for courage, determination and the human spirit.

Part 2
Noise of Light (2006) produces a markedly static environment in which the viewer inadvertently becomes emerged in. The sound of the generators, the light of the chandelier and their corresponding emanations, coalesce to create a kinaesthetic amalgamation involving the entire mechanics of the viewers’ perception. Comprehensively encapsulating the audience in a ubiquitous sensory experience, the work becomes overwhelmingly inclusive, effortlessly transcending both social and political borders by bypassing literal perception and pervasively evoking unconscious emotions.

Allowing multiple interpretations through its vague use of symbolism, Noise of Light instigates both universal appeal and interest. The artist notes ‘the greatest simplicity may conceal the most intense things’[5], however this also leads to the undoing of the piece. Although the artwork may have widespread impact due to its sensual qualities and ambiguous symbolism, its utilisation of such an overtly broad metaphorical tone also alienates the audience from the more specific social and political messages it is intended to address. Unlike other works by Paci[6], there is a lack of solid reference to its inspirational foundations of Albania and its regimental disarray. The work thus becomes somewhat non committal and unconvincing, losing momentum and meaning as a piece.

[1] http://www.bos2006.com
[2] http://the.ricethresher.org/ae/2005/09/16/perspective147
[3] http://www.bak-utrecht.nl/?click[newslettter]
[4] http://www.modernamuseet.se/v4/templates/template3.asp?lang=Eng&id=2543&bhcp=1
[5] http://www.bos2006.com
[6] http://www.modernamuseet.se/v4/templates/template3.asp?lang=Eng&id=2543&bhcp=1

Me... Me... Me...!!! (Reflective Response)

2006-06-26T12:33:00.000+10:00

In general, the assumptions that people made about me were correct. I have a great desire to travel to the primary cities affiliated with fashion, such as New York, London, Paris and Milan. Such hypotheses were somewhat predictable as I do study fashion and a lot of my answers connected my lifestyle with it. I also would like to go back to Indonesia for a holiday to see my family and friends.

Lindsay’s inference for no.11 was also correct. I generally don’t give a lot of though to the government and its affiliated funding policies, as my position in society is pretty ineffectual in bringing about governmental changes as I am not an Australian citizen.

In regards to the various locations I predominantly meet my friends, Justin, Lindsay, Rochelle and Mauricio all proved correct with their assumptions. I enjoy going out to see bands at the Metro, or anywhere else subculturally chic in the inner city area. I also appreciate exclusive clubs where the patrons dress both trendily and individually. Attractive décor, like Mad suggested, is also a large element for me, in terms of choosing a location to spend time with my friends.

Obviously, from the responses I received, either I am highly predictable in regards to my tastes and belief systems or I merely left questions unanswered that were easy to discern from my prior responses.

Taste Regime

2006-06-20T01:55:00.000+10:00

Taste Profile Questions
1. Favourite Television Show in the last 2 years. How many hours television do you watch a week?
America's Next Top Model... I normally watch TV for about 30 hours a week

2. What sort of camera do you have? What do you take pictures of: events, friends and relatives, things I find interesting, beautiful things?
I have a Nikon Digital Camera, and I usually take pictures of my friends and I at music events.

3. What sort of car would you like to drive? How often would you get under the bonnet of that car?
Oh... The Audi TT is my dream car... It's not that new, but it's so sleek!!! I have no idea about the mechanics of a car so I'm afraid the bonnet would stay firmly shut.

4. Do you play a musical instrument? Which?
No...

5. List your most favourite and least favourite type of music?
I love rock and electronic music... Bands like the strokes, bloc party, and the killers. I am not into popular/mainstream music that much. Though I like to watch the video clips

6. Which of the following would you visit or attend at least twice a year: art galleries, museums, public lectures, public libraries, political meetings, demonstrations or rallies?
Art Galleries...

7. List 4 films you have seen in the last year, from favourite to least favourite, and indicate how you saw them (cinema, video/dvd rental, video/dvd owned, pay TV, free-to-air TV)?
The Last 4 movies that i watched in the cinema are X-Men3, V for Vendetta, The DaVinci Code, and Mission Impossible 3. I like to watch movies that are not too heavy...

8. What is your favourite sport or game to play? What is your favourite sport or game to watch? I am not into sport, however I have enjoyed watching the SoccerWorld Cup

9. Where would like to travel to (apart from to friends or relatives)?
...

10.What is your primary source of news? To what extent to do you take an interest in the news
I watch the news on TV sometimes... I never read the newspaper. I am not really that interested in current events.

11.Should the government be spending more or less funding on: tax relief, sport, the arts, the environment.
...

12.Which country are you from? Could you live in a country other than where you were raised for the rest of your life?
I am from Indonesia, and I have lived apart from my parents since i was 12; So, living in another country for the rest of my life is not a problem for me.

13.Where do you tend to meet your friends: at each other’s homes, shopping centres, pubs or clubs, cafes and restaurants, parks or exercising?
...