Infinite See

Tannar Veatch

In a box, in the dark, the camera is running, and I don’t know what it’s seeing.
 

Interview by L. Valena

October 8, 2022

Can you start by describing the prompt that you responded to?

The prompt that I responded to was an image of a character, from the mid-torso up, with fuzzy smoke in the background. The main components of that character were that their head was an eyeball, they were wearing a couple snakes around their head, and three camera lenses that were embedded into their leather jacket.

What were your first reactions and thoughts?

I was really excited, because there was so much detail to work with. A lot of symbolism and rich textures. I felt really excited because I thought the character was really rich and developed, so even before I went into it I felt like there was a lot for me to work with.

Where did you go from there?

From there, I really wanted to flesh out the character. They seemed really vivid to me, and like they could be in the world. The image I got, I wondered if it was a mugshot, a wanted poster. Is this person a fugitive? What did this person do to end up on a wanted poster? The lenses tell me that this person really wants to see the world, perceiving visually is important to them, and they want to enhance that.

I just couldn't figure out how to make that pursuit nefarious, so I decided that maybe the prompt isn't a wanted poster. Maybe this person is a hero, maybe they're being celebrated in some way. That made me feel a whole lot better, because then I didn't have to make them a villain. This person really wants to see things, so what did they do to become a hero?

That's sort of where I let my fancy create the diorama. The diorama is the setting of the quest for this person. The way I work in my studio is I have a lot of material from past projects, and I have new stuff. I sort of shop the studio a little bit, and dig through old boxes. I found this great temple object that I've had for years and never used. That's when I realized this person is on a vision quest, and they are seeking out this temple of the Infinite See. That sort of gave me a more clear direction to the diorama. This person is on a quest for greater vision of the world (whatever that might mean), and they have to go to this temple to receive this gift of vision.

So this person’s vision quest is a literal quest for vision! I love that you're repurposing stuff; I think there's a lot of power in recombining things into new things.

A lot of people have a precious attachment to their creations. My practice has to be a little bit more build-it-up, take-it-down, because I just don't have the space. It gets documented, and then it gets broken down into its constituent parts. Sometimes things live on, and sometimes I have to do a little bit of filtering and clearing.

One thing that you mentioned that I think is really rich is this idea of the hero vs villain, and that making this character a hero made you feel better. I was just thinking about how there are always at least two sides to every story, and whether you think someone is a hero or villain might depend on how the story is told. Is that something you think about?

Yes, actually. I think about that a lot. A while ago, I was living in San Diego in an apartment with a little tiny balcony that was right on an intersection that had a lot of traffic. One time I was sitting out there, and I saw these bicyclists come up, and I could see a truck barreling down from the other way. I thought the bike was going to go through the intersection because they didn't see the truck, so I hopped up and waved at them and yelled. They just glared at me. They must have seen the truck, but I didn't see that they had seen the truck. It was an instance where my perception of an event caused me to be really alert and scared for someone. And their angle was that they knew what was going on, and were safe.

I think about that when I'm having a little interaction with people at the grocery store. I think people mete out little justices all the time that are more about personal feelings than they are about real true justice in the world. Sometimes I question my own judgments. Even if I did something that I thought was right, did other people think it was right? Would society at large consider it legal, or justified?

When I was thinking about this character, I knew that they were on a quest for more vision. Maybe the only difference between if they were a hero or a villain is if they had to steal the vision, or it was given to them freely. It made me feel better that I didn't have to make this person's body language evil or snaky. I didn't have to be in a negative headspace for the rest of the time developing this piece. I could let this person be a hero, and let their actions come from their heart.

If you're going to share headspace with a character for two weeks, it seems important that you can relate to them.

And to not have my mood be negative for their benefit. I can't let this three-inch-tall character define my week!

It looks like you 3D printed this?

It took me a while to find the components in the software that I use. I had to trick it a little bit in some instances. I use a video game editing software to make my characters, and it's not always so friendly when I do the 3D output on a physical printer. The software didn't have an eyeball head, so I had to use a beach ball and then smooth it out. To pose the snakes was a little bit weird around the neck, because their rigging is not so supported for that. In the software, they're usually used as a separate entity that moves around in the background. They're not usually a wearable character. So I had to spend some time dealing with that.

Can you talk a little more about how your dioramas are constructed?

The main components are a table, some mirrors, and a track to put my camera dolly on. I use mirrors to give the dioramas a greater sense of space. I know it's kind of a cheap trick, but it works.

One thing that really fascinates me about having two mirrors, and something in between them, is that you can see both sides of an object. I wish I could write a dissertation about how photography has changed our perception of time. An image or a video allows you to revisit the same instant over and over again, so it kind of collapses time. When I was in art school, we always talked about there being a front of something and a back of something. But now that I work in this mirrored environment, I think it's fascinating to be able to see the front and back of something at the same time. It's almost like a tiny bit of time travel. You can see both sides without walking around it.

For this piece, I was amazed by how much stuff I had that I could apply to this. The scales are from an old Halloween costume.

Sorry, I have to ask: what was the Halloween costume?

It was a sea monster. It's made of carpet pad. I didn't know what the world this character inhabits looked like, so I just took elements from them and extrapolated them into their world. That's why there are a lot of snake and eyeball elements: the character is 25% snake and 90% eyeball.

I always try to include some motion, so there are a lot of things that turn, so you can see multiple sides of an object from one point of view. If nothing moved, you would just be slowly watching the same scene move by, and that's a little bit boring. I always try to include some rotating or moving objects.

I used Midjourney AI to make the stained glass eyes. This is really a hot button issue right now, because you can give it text prompts and then it creates an image based on the descriptors that you give it. I think it can be a great tool for artists. A lot of people are complaining that maybe it's taking over what might be someone's practice, so I wanted to use it in a constructive way. I didn't want to use it to make a large, very important element, but I did want to employ it. This is a new tool that's part of my arsenal. So I gave it the prompts, and printed the result on transparency.

It sounds like you really build these for the camera. Has it always been that way?

I started by making still images. I don't think they necessarily needed to be still images, but I was just lacking the technology to do anything else, but in the back of my mind I was thinking about how I needed to get away from making them still images. They're too easy to just walk by. I know that when you see something moving, it's easier to give your attention to it for a moment longer than just another image. We're just so saturated with still images.

But now, I really do build them for the camera. That's a really important element of my practice. More than a decade ago, when I started seriously making work, I was building large installations and doing performances in them. They were super expensive. I really like rich materials with color and sparkle, so it was kind of cost prohibitive. Storage was hard, and I didn't always want to throw things away when I was done with them. And then I was doing performances in them, and sometimes things got destroyed. But then in the end, the most vivid part of the work was the documentation.

When I moved to New York, I knew I really had to pare things down. But it wasn't until three or four years after I left New York that this tabletop practice congealed. If I build a scale environment, I can make large-scale stuff without actually doing so. The essential element of the work is the video afterwards, and then I don't have to feel so connected to the physical materials. I can let it go once I have the video.

When I shut the mirror box up, and I'm filming inside it, I don't get to see at all what's happening in there. Anyone who sees the video for the first time is having the same experience as I do; I don't have that "privilege of the artist". In a box, in the dark, the camera is running, and I don't know what it's seeing. I pull it out, and then I get to witness what the camera saw. This little camera allows me to get a viewpoint that nobody's human eyeball would ever be able to perceive.

Can we talk about the soundtrack?

I did make the music, but I'm not a musician. I just sat down with a piano, and messed around until I had something that was three minutes long. And then I added some background noise to fill the space and flesh out the soundscape a little bit. I'd been working on trying to write a little bit of a vocal track that sounded like romantic, crooning jazz from the 1940s, but I'm also not a singer. I don't know why I wanted it to be more of a romantic song, but I didn't end up including it anyway. Knowing what it took to make the audio track (I really stumbled through it), it’s hard for me to have an objective experience of it. I wonder if, from an outside perspective, it's distracting or if it seems to fit well.

I think it works. I think it's exciting that you're exploring the sound aspect. It seems like a really exciting line of inquiry for you.

I wish I could collaborate with a musician. Some of the videos in the past didn't have any audio, and there was nothing really to drive the action. It just doesn't feel like you want to watch a video without any sound, but I'm not a sound designer or a musician. Maybe someday I'll meet someone who wants to make soundtracks for these videos.

You've gone through this process twice now. Do you have any advice for an artist approaching this for the first time?

I want to put forth artwork that is thoughtful, considered and detailed in order to give the next person something to sink their teeth into. I know everyone has their motivations for why they make the way they make, but this process is great because in a way, the next person holds you accountable for the work.

When I receive a prompt, I really try to delve into it for as much detail, and wring out as much as I can. Not for myself, but out of respect for the person who gave it to me, and for the next person. I love the detail that has been put into the work that I have received, and I hope that I'm passing that amount of detail and richness on. Pay attention to the detail, and be willing to put in the detail for the next person.

What haven’t we talked about?

I agonized over this character’s name 24 hours a day from the minute I saw the prompt until I submitted the final piece to you. Their name is Neyel Eigengrau. The first name is a play on the word ‘eye’. Eigengrau is the name of the color you see when you close your eyes. I only discovered that it was the character's last name at the very last minute, but it seemed so perfect. This person whose main objective in the world is seeing things, maybe never sees that particular color because they never are able to close their eye. Eigengrau is a beautiful word, but it also makes this person more multi-dimensional. They see things, but their name is the opposite of seeing. I just kept feeling like this person really needed a name. Now they're real.


Call Number: M58VA | M60VA.veaInf


Tannar Veatch: 

Born in Grand Junction, Co in 1988.

Living and working in San Francisco, Ca.

Exploring alternate realities through diorama and digital photography.