This is the second of three make-up blog entries where I missed the original deadline.
In Lev Manovich's dicussion of esthetics and professionalism in computer animation, the subtitle of his article "'Real' Wars," he hits on one very important note in the beginning: The visual result of a product is a hybrid of client desires and the talent of the designer. He focuses in on 3D computer animation for this particular article.
3D animation is special because of its ability to simulate meatspace reality that eventually become indistinguishable between the virtual and visual (see James Cameron's "Avatar" for a recent example of this). Illusionism is key, and in computer animation it can be the combination of network logos, virtual elements, real environments, the simulation of real-world interactions among space, light, atmosphere and environment (among others), and how it is interpreted through the computer's interpretations of the elements of meatspace cinematography (lighting, lens, movement, etc.).
Though the aim of illusionism, one could say, is to ultimately (but kindly) fool the viewer into believing that what they are seeing on the screen is more than just the representation of reality -- that it IS reality. The fluidity and difficulty of the motion, image smoothness, lack of pixel edging are not only more persuasive in achieving this goal, but signal just how good the designer behind the screen is. They become trademarks of designers, and their tools for industry-wide competition.
Manovich brings Bourdieu's argument in 1984's "Distinction" into the article, to highlight the aristocratic consumption of cultural items and how every social class distinguishes itself from the classes on the rungs above and below by adopting "particular esthetic values." Manovich argues that this serves to give separate classes identity and reaffirm casteing.
This argument, Manovich continues, carries into the working world and levels of professionalism among designers. Computer animation and its esthetics are where the distinction of the rungs separating the professionals from the amateurs is most likely to be true.
Computer animation and its illusionistic ways can be traced to earlier photographic and film technologies, which Manovich goes into to further distinguish the distinction between the amateur and the professional in the design industry.
Could the user of these technologies see a return on their investment through their work? If not, more likely than not they were an amateur. Could users meet the technical standards? Did they have the means to access the tools needed to advance in the industry? The quality from FCC-specified NTSC equipment to home-brewed equipment may not be significant, but the cost is, and that's where the separation of these two classes seems most noteworthy.
But it goes beyond the tools that define amateur and professional. The unspoken esthetics do their part as well in this distinction. Smoothness of color transitions, aliasing, texture, complex movements and environment interaction simulations can all be achieved across varying levels of tools, but only the high-end (and thus more expensive) tools can properly simulate, render and display these elements at their highest qualities. To an extent, Manovich argues that even the more complicated steps for animations (utilizing multiple elements, for example) further separate the professionals from amateurs. Anyone could potentially make a 3D logo swoop in from off screen and fly around with the right software, but the high-end animations are defined by their intricate layers and details achieved through the many pieces that interact with one another like plates on the earth's lithosphere.
So Manovich lauds the abilities of the professionals to make multiple objects interact realistically with one another in a virtual environment. But then he gets into the esthetics behind choosing the medium of computer animation itself. By simply choosing this medium over all other media, there is already an implied element of prestige in your project. At the time of writing this article, 3D computer animation was the most expensive video effect. But beyond the financial aspect, it signified that this company was technologically savvy and on board with the advent and innovation of computer-based media.
Ironically, you run into designers that accentuate the artifice of their design by request; the photo-realism potential of computer animation tends to eliminate the symbolism of using this medium. Manovich cites the use of super wide lenses in animations, rollercoaster-like camera tracking, object placements, abstract design, exaggerated reflections, and even using over-the-top geometric design to downplay technical possibilities. By simulating that Tron speedbike look, designers sneakily acknowledge the full potential of the software and hardware at hand.
Was the use of unnaturally-bright and -colored objects in "Avatar" intentional not just to convey the alien-ness of the planet Pandora, but as a nod to computer animation sequences of years past? The electric colors were reminiscent of "Tron" in some scenes, which once was seen as the height of computer-based animation. The range of motions, of emotions, the visual reality sought by the illusionistic ways of the medium in this new world indeed achieved a rather photorealistic experience for viewers (save for the 8-foot-tall blue cat people on screen), but there also was an acknowledgment of the fantastical details that could only be achieved through 3D computer animation.
I feel that this supposed acknowledgment, intentional or otherwise, does more to separate the professionals from the amateurs. And yes, the quality of the animations also further distinguishes this separation of experience in the field. And Manovich wraps up his argument thusly: "the standards of the smoothness and complexity in three-dimensional computer animation effectively serve to protect the status of professionals because they are perceived as esthetic ideals rather than as weapons of professional competition."
These standards, it seems, aren't tools within the industry to promote one designer over another, but rather they are an acceptance and perpetuation of the standards already established within the system. Further, these standards are not only embraced by the professionals within (harkening to a sort of "good ol' boys club" almost), but a reflection of the expectations of the paying clients -- the people who are financially backing the continuation of these esthetic standards. It is an industry where, perhaps, the professionals embrace these standards not only because it elevates them above the amateurs, but because they also are paid to perpetuate these rules as the standard of excellence.
When the money changes the expectations, so will the talent level of the professionals. Innovation comes with money. As long as the money is demanding photorealism in an abstract environment, then that is what the designers will continue to give to the average consumer.
As I learned in the paper industry, it's not the consumers who determine the trajectory of medium development, it's the advertisers.
And to tie everything back to that key point I highlighted in the first paragraph, this, I feel, was also the underlying message of Manovich's argument: The standards determine the professionals, and the money determines the standards.
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