Why Doesn't She
Quote from CohentheWriter on 23. September 2022, 19:05Museum Link: https://app.museumofcryptoart.com/collection/the-permanent-collection?collection=0xb932a70A57673d89f4acfFBE830E8ed7f75Fb9e0&token=22105&page=5
Source Link: https://superrare.com/artwork-v2/why-doesn%27t-she-22105
Date Minted: March 25, 2021
Artist Description: “Why doesn't she just leave him? It's her own fault. She should stand up for herself. She should be stronger. Many things are said of women living under abuse. Few actually understand the physical, mental and emotional trauma which happens. ########################################## The static on the TV represents her mind. Scattered, unclear and hectic. The couch is that dark ominous soul which waits at home.”
CohentheWriter’s Commentary:
“Why doesn't she just leave him? It's her own fault. She should stand up for herself. She should be stronger. Many things are said of women living under abuse. Few actually understand the physical, mental and emotional trauma which happens.
##########################################
The static on the TV represents her mind. Scattered, unclear and hectic. The couch is that dark ominous soul which waits at home.”
That’s MightyMoose’s verbatim Artist Description for their piece Why Doesn’t She, an immensely powerful and densely-layered exploration not only of abuse cycles themselves, but the way they are perceived by those just outside of them. There’s a lot of pain in Why Doesn’t She, and it’s communicated not just by the description, but by the aesthetics, the glitchy, twitchy nature of the thing, the color selections, the sparing details included, the abject and enormous amount of negative space, too. We can, and will, examine with more depth the aesthetics here. But ultimately, those aesthetics, important as they are, are always going to be in support of an overall artistic experience. I talk a lot about experience, especially as it relates to the vast amount of abstract and surrealist art which crosses my desk, so to speak, on a daily basis; the crypto art world is heavily populated by such things as encourage us to have immediate, slapdash reactions to the art before us. Why Doesn’t She, on the other hand, is an anomaly, something that asks us to stop and consider it, to have memories dredged up by it, to encounter small associations the piece suggests and let them become large, looming, and loud. Yet it communicates such dread at once. And such uneasiness. It is a bomb that bursts right away and then again shortly after. The dread, the uneasiness, the sense of foreboding, it all compounds on itself —perhaps and probably an effect of the graphics, the colors, the crookedness and lack of size congruency between the letters. The TV, too, with its endless static, and here we are, waiting for the gruesome girl from The Ring to walk out on all fours. The couch, distant but dense and dark, singularly unmoving, our eyes drawn to this object, itself imbued with all the horrors this piece hints at but never expressly codifies.
In terms of actual imagery, the piece is rather simplistic. The power is all in the details, how those images are presented and their relationships to each other. But again, the actual imagery. A white background, most of it unobstructed. Five words, presented here in order of how they might most commonly be read: “DOESN’T SHE LEAVE JUST WHY.” Presenting the words in this way, especially when juxtaposed against the title, creates the perception of something cyclical, like what we’re seeing within the frame is actually only a smaller segment of an endless art piece, and the sentence “Why doesn’t she just leave” repeated endlessly, on and on, whereas we’re seeing the point at which the cycle repeats itself, the end of one thought, the beginning of the next. Most of the words are presented in the vein of graffiti stencil art, black and blocky and somewhat incomplete. All four words will, at times, be overcome by a glitchy, photomosh effect of the type ROBNESS used in his 64 Gallon Toter, though here there is a far greater sense of freneticism and unwellness in how quickly the glitch effect phases in and out. The word “SHE” otherwise contains the only real standout color in the piece (although sometimes the glitch effect presents a tiny blot of red), existing in a dark and rich shade of blocky blue. It stands in contrast not just to the other words, but to the staticky TV that exists eternally beside it, an object imbued with all manner of horror movie connotations. And then there’s the couch, which seems at first almost like a punctuation mark, and sits stationary on the left side of “Why,” an unchanging reminder of itself. Variously, on the other side of the couch, the word “just” will appear and disappear, though always faded and at times a dingy yellow color.
The entire piece communicates something akin to malfunctioning electronics. Very little is static or is working as seemingly intended. Even the words in the sentence are mixed up, are vanishing suddenly and without warning, are literally glitching all over. In reality, a glitch is only perceived as something happening incorrectly. But a glitch is the natural product of an electronics system working as its parts are communicating that it should. Yes, a rat might have chewed through a wire, but the nature of the electric current, the chemical and physical processes all remain abiding by their governing laws. It is only deemed a glitch because things aren’t working as we desire them to, or how we imagine they will. And Why Doesn’t She, a piece so overtly concerned with perceptions —the outside perception of abuse being separately damaging from the abuse itself— uses this subtle analogy to create feelings of frustration in us. But are those feelings of frustration fair? How much of our emotions are reactionary instead of responsive? Questions like these seem quite close to the heart of Mighty Moose’s piece, don’t they?
Source Link: https://superrare.com/artwork-v2/why-doesn%27t-she-22105
Date Minted: March 25, 2021
Artist Description: “Why doesn't she just leave him? It's her own fault. She should stand up for herself. She should be stronger. Many things are said of women living under abuse. Few actually understand the physical, mental and emotional trauma which happens. ########################################## The static on the TV represents her mind. Scattered, unclear and hectic. The couch is that dark ominous soul which waits at home.”
CohentheWriter’s Commentary:
“Why doesn't she just leave him? It's her own fault. She should stand up for herself. She should be stronger. Many things are said of women living under abuse. Few actually understand the physical, mental and emotional trauma which happens.
##########################################
The static on the TV represents her mind. Scattered, unclear and hectic. The couch is that dark ominous soul which waits at home.”
That’s MightyMoose’s verbatim Artist Description for their piece Why Doesn’t She, an immensely powerful and densely-layered exploration not only of abuse cycles themselves, but the way they are perceived by those just outside of them. There’s a lot of pain in Why Doesn’t She, and it’s communicated not just by the description, but by the aesthetics, the glitchy, twitchy nature of the thing, the color selections, the sparing details included, the abject and enormous amount of negative space, too. We can, and will, examine with more depth the aesthetics here. But ultimately, those aesthetics, important as they are, are always going to be in support of an overall artistic experience. I talk a lot about experience, especially as it relates to the vast amount of abstract and surrealist art which crosses my desk, so to speak, on a daily basis; the crypto art world is heavily populated by such things as encourage us to have immediate, slapdash reactions to the art before us. Why Doesn’t She, on the other hand, is an anomaly, something that asks us to stop and consider it, to have memories dredged up by it, to encounter small associations the piece suggests and let them become large, looming, and loud. Yet it communicates such dread at once. And such uneasiness. It is a bomb that bursts right away and then again shortly after. The dread, the uneasiness, the sense of foreboding, it all compounds on itself —perhaps and probably an effect of the graphics, the colors, the crookedness and lack of size congruency between the letters. The TV, too, with its endless static, and here we are, waiting for the gruesome girl from The Ring to walk out on all fours. The couch, distant but dense and dark, singularly unmoving, our eyes drawn to this object, itself imbued with all the horrors this piece hints at but never expressly codifies.
In terms of actual imagery, the piece is rather simplistic. The power is all in the details, how those images are presented and their relationships to each other. But again, the actual imagery. A white background, most of it unobstructed. Five words, presented here in order of how they might most commonly be read: “DOESN’T SHE LEAVE JUST WHY.” Presenting the words in this way, especially when juxtaposed against the title, creates the perception of something cyclical, like what we’re seeing within the frame is actually only a smaller segment of an endless art piece, and the sentence “Why doesn’t she just leave” repeated endlessly, on and on, whereas we’re seeing the point at which the cycle repeats itself, the end of one thought, the beginning of the next. Most of the words are presented in the vein of graffiti stencil art, black and blocky and somewhat incomplete. All four words will, at times, be overcome by a glitchy, photomosh effect of the type ROBNESS used in his 64 Gallon Toter, though here there is a far greater sense of freneticism and unwellness in how quickly the glitch effect phases in and out. The word “SHE” otherwise contains the only real standout color in the piece (although sometimes the glitch effect presents a tiny blot of red), existing in a dark and rich shade of blocky blue. It stands in contrast not just to the other words, but to the staticky TV that exists eternally beside it, an object imbued with all manner of horror movie connotations. And then there’s the couch, which seems at first almost like a punctuation mark, and sits stationary on the left side of “Why,” an unchanging reminder of itself. Variously, on the other side of the couch, the word “just” will appear and disappear, though always faded and at times a dingy yellow color.
The entire piece communicates something akin to malfunctioning electronics. Very little is static or is working as seemingly intended. Even the words in the sentence are mixed up, are vanishing suddenly and without warning, are literally glitching all over. In reality, a glitch is only perceived as something happening incorrectly. But a glitch is the natural product of an electronics system working as its parts are communicating that it should. Yes, a rat might have chewed through a wire, but the nature of the electric current, the chemical and physical processes all remain abiding by their governing laws. It is only deemed a glitch because things aren’t working as we desire them to, or how we imagine they will. And Why Doesn’t She, a piece so overtly concerned with perceptions —the outside perception of abuse being separately damaging from the abuse itself— uses this subtle analogy to create feelings of frustration in us. But are those feelings of frustration fair? How much of our emotions are reactionary instead of responsive? Questions like these seem quite close to the heart of Mighty Moose’s piece, don’t they?