Symbol Logic

obama-logo

(the following is not an endorsement of any candidate, just an examination of the power of a symbol)

Patrick McGoohan created what may have been television’s first and only classic piece of art, The Prisoner.  His enigmatic protagonist – a spy who knew too much – was never given a name.  In an effort to strip down his psyche and find out why he quit, his tormentors tried to bust him down to just a number.  In his case, Number Six.

One of the great mysteries of the show is why the number Six?  What is so special about that particular number?  Number One and Number Two are easy enough to figure out, but given the nine-digit monstrosities that make up identification for citizens, inmates, students and the like, why just a Six?  My theory is that the shape provides the information.

McGoohan’s Number Six fell into a situation he could not escape.  Trace the numeral from top to bottom and you end up in a loop.  There’s something about that interpretation that seems to resonate with most “Prisoner” fans I’ve shared that with.  McGoohan himself might not even be aware.   The point here is that symbols and shapes do carry powerful meaning (and I highly recommend a parallel track with Joseph Campbell, author of “The Power of Myth” among other works.)

Symbol minds

So, what does this have to do with politics?  Everything, if you are to believe the following:

There has been more emphasis on font and weight in this cycle than any other.  That can be attributed to many things, including a ridiculously long election cycle with more time to fill, more idiot pundits to fill that time, and a greater penetration of desktop publishing applications that makes our public-at-large more “font cognizant.”

A prevailing theory here is the electorate – being too dumb to make decisions on issues – will be drawn to the hidden messages inherent in the imagery.  Serifs, slants, and pantone color choices will subconsciously affect us.  And who knows?  The 1988 Democratic National Convention replaced the Red White and Blue with a more muted color scheme:  Salmon, Eggshell, and Azure.  (Because pastels portray such strength, and we all know how well that worked out for Michael Dukakis.)

When image is everything

You might think I’m a little crazy here, but Obama’s biggest hurdle is the notion that he is too slick a politician, and doesn’t have enough of a track record for us to know his positions.  He’s been criticized for trying to be all things to all people.  And those carrying these attitudes aren’t necessarily able to put their finger on the source for the sentiment.

So let’s look at the Obama campaign logo.

The letter O is there, plain to see even where obscured by the mostly opaque striped banner that rolls across.  It says heartland, and carries enough of the darker color tones to avoid the Dukakis Pastel Curse.

This is just the base logo, though.  In typical Web 2.0 fashion, Obama supporters are asked to mash it up with whatever they like – and based on the number of free tools available, just as many detractors are having fun with the tool.

And this is the thrust of the problem: if many are expressing an uneasy sense that Obama is essentially empty, and only reflecting back what his audience wants to hear, can you blame his logo variations for burning that into our brains? Would Obama be better served by tightening up the controls on his brand, and in the process make a statement about consistency?

This might be a chicken-and-egg problem, where a candidate in need of an identity wandered into a logo that prevented him from cementing one. The amorphous idealism may have played well so far, but is it time for the campaign to color in that void in the middle for us?

[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, Obama, politics, symbolism, marketing[/tags]

Look For the Twist

Steve Harden was one of my best friends in high school and college. We were in many of the same science and math classes, although he had a very strong artistic streak. When it came time to get serious about actually graduating, Steve declared a double-major in Chemistry and Art.

One of my other friends (who had a penchant for asking rather snotty questions) posed the following: “What are you going to do with that? Draw illustrations for science textbooks?

Steve answered “No. I may go the other direction, and get involved with art restoration.”

I’ve always thought the most interesting niches develop at the intersections of different disciplines. That’s where the concepts of one dovetail with the uncertain problems of the other and reveal a new way to solve. Fermat’s Last Theorem tied mathematicians up in knots for centuries, until a topologist translated the problem into his field and attacked it in a new way.

While the intersections can provide insight, you must be careful not to jump to hasty conclusions. That intersection that you view from directly above might just be an overpass. In Steve’s case, it was the chemist’s knowledge that enriched the art, rather than the artist’s touch helping the chemist communicate.

Are you making unnecessary assumptions about which road’s on top?

[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, science, communications, philosophy, art, Fermat, mathematics, topology[/tags]

A Turkey of a Story

Good stories have a direction, and a surprise at the end. If my five-year-old can do it, why do the rest of us make it so hard?

[kml_flashembed movie="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-9196915157967161825&hl=en" height="289" width="355" /]

Writer: Laura Grace Pigott
Director: Laura Grace Pigott
Narrator: Laura Grace Pigott
Story: Laura Grace Pigott
Technical Assistance: Isaac Pigott
Created: January 18, 2008

Allegory Allegro

Pushing Daisies

Daisies Logo 2If case you’ve missed it, ABC is pulling a fast one on viewers. A new series airing on Wednesday nights called “Pushing Daisies” is not what it appears to be.

On the surface, the show seems to revolve around a character with a strange ability. He can bring the dead back to life with a single touch – and with another touch, they permanently die again. However, if the re-animated corpse stays up for more than a minute, something else has to die in its place to restore the balance. Fairy Tale material to be sure, but no more fanciful than anything Heroes or Bionic Woman are pushing our way. So what is so different lurking beneath the surface?

For that, we have to pay a little more attention to that surface layer – and the first thing that stands out is a rich palette of strong, bold colors. Pie HoleThose hues are mixed in a surreal visual style that takes it completely out of any known time and place. The building depicted here – “The Pie Hole” – looks more at home in the land of Super Mario or the Smurfs than it does at the base of an office building. All of the textures and architecture are designed to remind you of something, yet of nothing in particular.

Above the din of the visual noise we have a soothing narrator to help move the story along. Jim Dale provides a tone of inevitable calm as he makes the plot seem comfortable enough to be almost normal. His voice is reminiscent of many Rankin-Bass stop-motion classics – and exactly like the guy who read the Harry Potter books on tape. (Well, the last one he did do.) That gives us a disconcerting simultaneous push and pull. The creators are reminding us that we’re watching something obviously fanciful, yet lulled into accepting it is familiar.

Here, we have our main characters. Ned, who has the Lazarus touch (lite); and Chuck, the first girl he ever kissed. Dandy LionNed brought Chuck back to life by mistake, and didn’t have the heart to send her back. He’s keeping her around out of a sense of guilt – as little boy Ned used his power to re-animate his mother, in the process, sending Chuck’s dad to an untimely and unexplained demise.

Now, let’s add in the private eye who knows Ned’s secret. They use his power to re-animate murder victims and try to pull enough info out of a 60-second interrogation so they can solve crimes and claim reward money. But this show isn’t about murder mysteries, and it isn’t about being clever. All of these machinations are required for us to get to the point of the allegory: Virtual relationships.

Part of the long-term tension of the series will be the feelings Ned and Chuck share for each other. Ned’s being rooted in the past, Chuck’s rooted in the future she now has thanks to Ned. And unlike other primetime shows that rely on sexual tension to stir the chemistry, we’re not too concerned about them hooking up. The moment Ned touches Chuck, she dies. Forever.

Already, the producers are revealing some of the clever ways they will be able to share the same space without risking an accidental contact. They hold their own hands behind their backs, as though they were holding each other. There is a plastic privacy cage in the center of Ned’s console, to keep Chuck safely on her side. There’s even an “airlock glove” installed through the window, so they can hold hands. Almost.

How do we have relationships with people we cannot touch? This will be the long-running question posed by the series. And for those of us interested in the emergence of online communities – there ought to be some pretty interesting lessons gleaned from it. It’s clear the writers and producers have some clear ideas already. Let’s see how many of them will apply to our new frontiers of communication.

[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, allegory, storytelling, ABC, Pushing Daisies, pop culture, TV[/tags]

Goodbye, Jimmy

Jimmy Lee Sudduth

Jimmy Lee SudduthJimmy Lee Sudduth passed away over the weekend.

He never strayed far from his home in Fayette, Alabama. He was known as a “primitive artist,” who made his pigments from scratch. We got to know him because for a time in the ’80s, my mom was his insurance agent.

Jimmy was the essence of simplicity. Until he was physically unable to do so, he’d troll around his property to find the colors he needed for his paintings. Brown Furniture Factory (Ginger Young Gallery)He once showed my mother where he got the unusual colors of clay behind his house (36 shades), and plants and berries provided much of the greens and hues. Once he mixed his colors, he’d paint them with homemade brushes on a piece of recycled board.

Bryant by SudduthThe paintings don’t look like much. Took him a few minutes apiece, at a cost of near-zero, yet the originals sell for thousands of dollars. I am proud to have some of his work on my walls. Jimmy never thought much about celebrity or art stature – but if asked, could name all seven U.S. presidents he had met over the decades.

Now we live in an age where a homeless man can walk into a public library, sign up for a free e-mail address, get a blog account, and write a manifesto that can change the world. The power of ideas, expressed simply, is unmatched – and we live in a time where those tools are more accessible to us than ever before. Even the lowliest of us.

Tractor (Robert Cargo Folk Art Gallery)Jimmy Lee Sudduth beat us all to the punch. He found his free tools, and the power of his expression opened new worlds to him. Let us not squander our opportunities to do the same. We don’t even have to get our hands dirty.

[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, art, primitive art, Jimmy Sudduth, Fayette Alabama, simplicity[/tags]