Because of a culmination of several factors in the present day, an interesting new phenomenon has emerged. This phenomenon is the fandom. Certain elements are a given, such as the predominantly literate culture from which fandoms arise. However, other things are necessary. Due to the time required for one to be in a fandom, the culture must be fairly affluent to afford the fans time for immersion. Additionally, the present day allows for a varied spread of fandoms, because of a plethora of media (TV, radio, print, internet, etc...) However, instead of merely describing the elements needed to have a fandom, we should look at some examples of actual fandoms.
I count myself part of several fandoms. One such fandom is that of Star Trek. (I must preface this by indicating that I am not such a fan that I am obsessed. I have written some fan fictions and read the books, but that is about the extent of my involvement above and beyond.) Nonetheless, the show has quite an extensive following. One reason is that older fans, who started watching the series in its beginnings, drew deeper meanings from the stories. They were the people who believed that the show advocated equality, rights and social progress. This is true, if not to quite the degree as they would believe. At a time during the Cold War, the inclusion of a Russian officer, along with many of the bridge crew, indicated forward thinking on the part of Gene Roddenberry, the creator of the show. Later iterations of the show also commented on society and its faults, such as the analogy that can be drawn in Deep Space 9 between the Cardassians and the Bajorans, to the Nazis and the Jews. For clarity, the Bajorans are a religious people forcibly taken over by the Cardassians and forced to labor for them. This is an ever-present conflict that appears during the course of DS9's run. Other iterations of the show make similar observations.
Another great fandom is that of Star Wars, that classic cinematic masterpiece. From personal testimony, I know that this fandom started from the beginning. Many of the people I know, who saw the first movie in theaters, saw it more than once. (Of course, shows were cheaper, but allowances were also less) From then on, the space epic and its sequels only became more and more popular. The popularity can only be due to the story: the tale presents great literary types, such as the epic hero, evil empire, and endangered princess. The music is also a plus, as John Williams makes extensive use of the Wagnerian idea of the leit-motif: major characters, events and ideas all have unique themes associated with them. Star Wars too has sparked an extensive extended universe, including books, video games and spin-off series.
On a side note, some people will tell you that you can't like both of the "Stars." I say that they are good in different ways, and that you can. However, that is a whole other issue which cannot be addressed here. It is sufficient to say that both are cool and continue on.
On another side note, I must comment that many fandoms have a certain level of nerdiness about them. Possibly it is because many of the shows are science fiction, but other genres have them too. There is an element to writing about a fictional show, or wearing costumes of characters of a show that all necessitate a certain level of devotion. (Although, I am fine with being classified a "nerd." The term is not as denigrating as it once was, especially not with most of the people I hang out with.)
Back on topic, a key fandom to consider is that of the hit British television programme, Doctor Who. Having only recently started the show, I of yet only know a little bit personally. However, I know from the internet that there is a large contingency of fans. This is to be expected of a show whose life spans 50 years. As with the franchises mentioned above, Doctor Who has shows, movies, books, comics, etc... There is, in Doctor Who, an element not present in the others. In a bit of crafty writing, the titular Doctor has the ability to regenerate himself if he is critically injured. This allows the show to live on, even if the main actor falls seriously ill or dies. I have always admired this simple, but effective means of prolonging the show. (Plus, it allows for those great "meet yourself, and yourself, and yourself" episodes that time travel is kind enough to bestow.) Anticipation of the next Doctor is a particularly Whovian phenomenon. "What will he look like, how will he act, will he FINALLY be a ginger?" are the types of questions that arise. (Doctor Who fans, please forgive any inaccuracies or gross mistakes; I'm new here.)
These are examples of fairly mainstream fandoms. (Although, in the US, Whovians are more of a cult following, but more on that later.) All have fan fiction bases. All have merchandise and costuming. All have fans that adore the franchise for one reason or another. It is something that they can share, and laugh or cry about. Here, too, a sense of community is necessary. A fandom is the community surrounding any work or works of fiction.
As this article is almost too long, tune in next article for a closer look at cult followings and more!
To be continued....
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Life - My Personal Sociology of Parties
[Disclaimer: This is written on the advice of a book I'm reading, that talks of forcing yourself to write, even if you don't think you have anything interesting write. It almost strays into my older, icky blog-writing style where the posts were almost journal entries. That is all.]
For non-dance parties, I have a better time. It's just a matter of jumping from different groups. As a freshman, I tried to get to know different people by staying longer at the dinning hall and jumping each time the group I was with left. From what I can tell, it worked out fairly well: many people on campus still shout "Xander!!!" if they see me. Sometimes I find myself thinking "How do I know you?" But that's beside the point. I think this is what I do at non-dance parties; yet I cannot remember a recent non-dance party to which I have been recently. Hmmm...
Well, to sum up this overlong, unnecessarily personal article, it's all about a good starting point. From that starting point, then I work my way around the building, saying the necessary "hellos" and "how's life"s. Then its just a matter of dancing until it's over.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Gaming - So, What's the Big Deal?
[Update: This article has been long overdue in being finished. Over December and January I was very busy with finals, Christmas break, J-term, losing the short outline for the article, etc... Fortunately, it will not be like another article I started precisely a year before, only to completely forget where I was going with it. Anyway, that's all; Now to the article:]
First, you punch some blocks. Then you use a tool, made from those blocks, to get more blocks. Using further blocks, you build a container to store ... you guessed it, more blocks. After minutes of digging, you find better, stronger blocks and make better, stronger tools for getting blocks. Enemies try to destroy you and your blocks, but you valiantly defeat them all. At the end of the day, you rest in your bed, surrounded by blocks and block-derived items, accessories and decorations.
The above description is a tedious rendering of the basic concept of the recent compter game, Minecraft. Looking at the description (crafted by me), I find myself asking one question: what is the appeal of the game, exactly? I am the type of gamer that thrives on games that are story-driven, or have at least a moderately-formed narrative somewhere within them. Minecraft is a sandbox game with no particular goal. So, why do I often find myself spending hours playing it? A question to ponder indeed.
Of the reasons for its appeal, Minecraft's very title tells the first: an appeal to creativity. By mining different materials, the player can create various fantastic, and sometimes impossible, structures.
Another reason, something common to all video and computer games in general, is the appeal to control that it offers the player. This is present more in the Creative Mode (which allows the player to fly, be invulnerable to enemies, use any blocks, etc...) than in the ability-limiting Survival Mode. Using Creative Mode, the player can spawn animals, people, and monsters, in addition to the plethora of materials the game affords. You can torment Creepers by spawning them in a confined space with many ocelots. Or, you can destroy entire villages with an excess of TNT. However, because of the very nature of games putting the player in control, this aspect, the appeal to power, should not be emphasized too much.
A similar reason, also common among video games, is the idea of the re-spawn. As you are all familiar, in real life it is quite fatal to fall into a pit of lava from a great height with an anvil landing on you just after your toasty bath begins. However, games, including Minecraft, allow you to safely re-spawn - albeit without items, power-ups etc... - safely afterwards. Still, this reason is common to many video games and does not bolster my argument as much as I would hope.
The key reason for Minecraft's appeal is the sense of community that it fosters in its players. It is not merely a way of satisfying OCD-like tendencies by organizing massive buildings in a row (as above) but instead sharing those organized massive buildings with friends. I have had the fortune of having access to a server run by a good friend. Sometimes, we just walk around and look at all of the cool things he and others have built. At least once, I've been able to show him a project on which I'd been working. Related to the idea of sharing structures, gamers also put on programmer hats to modify the base game in several different ways, be it adding new items, or ways of crafting things. Some add new animals. Others add forms of transportation. Either way, the programmer-gamers and the plain-old-gamers form a community. In Minecraft, it's really the end product and sharing it that matters, not merely the act of building.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Literature - Texts to Interpret
As I've taken classes at Erskine College, a sort of unity between certain fields has appeared to me. That is, I see a vague similarity between the disciplines. Those fields are literature, history, theology and music. What do they all have in common, you ask? The answer is interpretation. In each field, a text or texts are critically examined by experts to arrive at certain conclusions. In literature, we examine the themes, metaphors and plot structure of different genres, like the play, short story or novel. In history, we examine first-hand accounts, written records and other documents to determine what really happened at a given place or time. In theology, the central text, the Bible, is examined in great deal. There are multiple applications, such as the study of the text as literature, as doctrinal support and as moral instruction. Finally, in music, as in literature, motifs and ideas are analysed in pieces of music. Different genres, like classical and popular are looked at in-depth to study the effect of the music on the people, and from the people to the music itself.
In all four fields, there is a unity of interpretation. However, this interpretation differs from one to the other. Take the biblical account of Ruth for example: it has the potential to be analyzed by a literary scholar, a theologian and a historian. The historian would examine how the text presents the culture of the time. A theologian would do so also, but would add in a study of the author's use of history to instruct the culture of the time. Finally, a literary scholar would focus almost entirely on the plot-based aspects of the story, such as the immense number of "happy coincidences" that fill the book, and lead the theologian to point to Providence within the story.
Examples like this abound. One key example would be Psalms. It contains poetry, musical instruction, allusions to biblical events, and is an historical written document, so all four fields mentioned above would be able to examine it in some way. One merely needs to do a simple internet search to see the immense number of possible ways to examine Psalms.
The final example I will mention (partly because I am an English major and a fan of his works) are the history plays of William Shakespeare. Key to consider is Richard III. A literary scholar would tell you about the superbly villainous character of Richard III himself, and discuss how his usurpation upset the great chain of being in its violent, "revolution"-like nature. An historian would stress that the vilification of Richard is in part due to Shakespeare's patroness: Queen Elizabeth, whose family supported the demonization of their enemies, would have appreciated the treatment of Richard III in the play: Her own grandfather was the very Henry of Richmond that came to succeed Richard as Henry VII. It would be a stretch to claim there is something for a musicologist to examine in Richard III, as most music in Shakespeare's play occurred in his comedies or late romances. Finally, a theologian probably wouldn't look at Richard III for religious purposes, other than to illustrate that human kings are corruptible and quite frequently really bad, as with King Saul and succeeding kings of Israel and Judah.
As you go continue to study in your various fields, be they one of the four mentioned here, or something completely different, remember this: most anything can be viewed from multiple perspectives. Don't be afraid to explore other fields other than your own. You might be surprised what possibilities show themselves!
In all four fields, there is a unity of interpretation. However, this interpretation differs from one to the other. Take the biblical account of Ruth for example: it has the potential to be analyzed by a literary scholar, a theologian and a historian. The historian would examine how the text presents the culture of the time. A theologian would do so also, but would add in a study of the author's use of history to instruct the culture of the time. Finally, a literary scholar would focus almost entirely on the plot-based aspects of the story, such as the immense number of "happy coincidences" that fill the book, and lead the theologian to point to Providence within the story.
Examples like this abound. One key example would be Psalms. It contains poetry, musical instruction, allusions to biblical events, and is an historical written document, so all four fields mentioned above would be able to examine it in some way. One merely needs to do a simple internet search to see the immense number of possible ways to examine Psalms.
The final example I will mention (partly because I am an English major and a fan of his works) are the history plays of William Shakespeare. Key to consider is Richard III. A literary scholar would tell you about the superbly villainous character of Richard III himself, and discuss how his usurpation upset the great chain of being in its violent, "revolution"-like nature. An historian would stress that the vilification of Richard is in part due to Shakespeare's patroness: Queen Elizabeth, whose family supported the demonization of their enemies, would have appreciated the treatment of Richard III in the play: Her own grandfather was the very Henry of Richmond that came to succeed Richard as Henry VII. It would be a stretch to claim there is something for a musicologist to examine in Richard III, as most music in Shakespeare's play occurred in his comedies or late romances. Finally, a theologian probably wouldn't look at Richard III for religious purposes, other than to illustrate that human kings are corruptible and quite frequently really bad, as with King Saul and succeeding kings of Israel and Judah.
As you go continue to study in your various fields, be they one of the four mentioned here, or something completely different, remember this: most anything can be viewed from multiple perspectives. Don't be afraid to explore other fields other than your own. You might be surprised what possibilities show themselves!
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Music - Super Mario - Themes of Adventure
As I'm sure some of you are aware, I am a fan of collecting and playing old video games, and more often than not, I enjoy the music in those games. Occasionally, I am motivated to play a game entirely based off of the presence of a few particular pieces or the involvement of a particular composer. Take for instance, Final Fantasy. The music alone is enough to warrant my suffering through seemingly impossible boss fights and frustrating puzzles/action sequences. (However, I must admit that I was not initially drawn to the Final Fantasy series by the music.) I will occasionally bring out the DS and play one of my Ace Attorney games: there is a certain triumph that a player feels when the "Objection" theme begins to play and Phoenix starts bringing out the truth. Of course, there is also the multi-system juggernaut of the Mario franchise. Most notably, the RPGs, including Super Mario RPG and the Paper Mario series, include several great tracks while still paying homage to the original platformers that started the whole thing.
While looking for books about video game music online, I began thinking about how one would go about critiquing games/pieces within the genre. I was then reminded of the key point from my summer Intro to Visual Arts class: "Form follows function." In order to critique any work of art, one must look at it in the context of its function. For instance, one cannot critique a section of recitative with the same "rubric" as one would use on a symphony: they were both created for widely different purposes. The same could be said for video games. For the purpose of examining this principal closely, we will look at the classic 1985 side-scrolling platformer, Super Mario Bros.
As a genre, platformer music must be composed in such a way that it can be repeated again and again, seamlessly, for as long as it takes the player to reach the end of the level. The length of the repeated unit of music can vary greatly. Additionally, similar steps are taken with story events, boss fights and other types of in-game occurrences. In composing the music for Super Mario Bros, Koji Kondo had four main themes that he needed to create: one for each type of level. Fans of the series will likely recognize these as the themes to the overworld, underground, underwater and castle stages.
1. Overworld (Ground Theme)
The most famous of the Mario themes. Accordingly, it seems to be the most emulated and repeated in the series. The theme itself is a bright, adventurous theme to match the type of level in which it is placed. The composition of this piece took several attempts of composing, testing with the game, and rewriting to get the music to fit with the action just right. (In terms of repeated units, the ground theme has the distinct honor of having the longest segment of melody, timing in at just under 1:30. This is much longer than any of the other themes in the game.) The rhythm is distinctly staccato, in relief to the flowing melody of the later Underwater theme.
2. Underground (Underworld Theme)
Compared to the previous Ground theme, the Underworld theme is a bit more low-key. This is quite fitting as the type of level this piece goes to occurs underground. (The repeated unit is fairly short, at about 12 seconds.) The first half consists of to sets of alternating octaves that gradually move down. The is followed by a descending chromatic bridge that leads into a further descending section. This general idea of going down in pitch matches the general feel that an underground level should have.
3. Underwater Theme
Among the four main themes, the Underwater theme is by far the most melodic. In a distinctly 3/4 waltz, the lilting melody matches the slowed underwater swimming movements Mario makes in his journey towards the goal. (The Underwater theme's unit is about 26 seconds long, still short of the Ground theme by about a minute.)
4. Castle Theme
The Castle theme is the shortest and most repetitious of the four main themes. It is also the most virtuosic of the pieces as it consists of a simple melody under a series of rapidly alternating sixteenth notes. (The repeated unit here is 8 seconds long: the shortest of the main themes.) Unlike the cheery Ground theme or the flowing Underwater theme, the Castle theme is a short, doomy-gloomy one.
In addition to the four main themes, the game necessarily contained other incidental music, such as the game over jingle, the level completion jingle and the end theme. In these we see the highly function-driven aspect of video game music. However, for the sake of time and article length, I will discuss those themes in another post.
While looking for books about video game music online, I began thinking about how one would go about critiquing games/pieces within the genre. I was then reminded of the key point from my summer Intro to Visual Arts class: "Form follows function." In order to critique any work of art, one must look at it in the context of its function. For instance, one cannot critique a section of recitative with the same "rubric" as one would use on a symphony: they were both created for widely different purposes. The same could be said for video games. For the purpose of examining this principal closely, we will look at the classic 1985 side-scrolling platformer, Super Mario Bros.
As a genre, platformer music must be composed in such a way that it can be repeated again and again, seamlessly, for as long as it takes the player to reach the end of the level. The length of the repeated unit of music can vary greatly. Additionally, similar steps are taken with story events, boss fights and other types of in-game occurrences. In composing the music for Super Mario Bros, Koji Kondo had four main themes that he needed to create: one for each type of level. Fans of the series will likely recognize these as the themes to the overworld, underground, underwater and castle stages.
1. Overworld (Ground Theme)
The most famous of the Mario themes. Accordingly, it seems to be the most emulated and repeated in the series. The theme itself is a bright, adventurous theme to match the type of level in which it is placed. The composition of this piece took several attempts of composing, testing with the game, and rewriting to get the music to fit with the action just right. (In terms of repeated units, the ground theme has the distinct honor of having the longest segment of melody, timing in at just under 1:30. This is much longer than any of the other themes in the game.) The rhythm is distinctly staccato, in relief to the flowing melody of the later Underwater theme.
2. Underground (Underworld Theme)
Compared to the previous Ground theme, the Underworld theme is a bit more low-key. This is quite fitting as the type of level this piece goes to occurs underground. (The repeated unit is fairly short, at about 12 seconds.) The first half consists of to sets of alternating octaves that gradually move down. The is followed by a descending chromatic bridge that leads into a further descending section. This general idea of going down in pitch matches the general feel that an underground level should have.
3. Underwater Theme
Among the four main themes, the Underwater theme is by far the most melodic. In a distinctly 3/4 waltz, the lilting melody matches the slowed underwater swimming movements Mario makes in his journey towards the goal. (The Underwater theme's unit is about 26 seconds long, still short of the Ground theme by about a minute.)
4. Castle Theme
The Castle theme is the shortest and most repetitious of the four main themes. It is also the most virtuosic of the pieces as it consists of a simple melody under a series of rapidly alternating sixteenth notes. (The repeated unit here is 8 seconds long: the shortest of the main themes.) Unlike the cheery Ground theme or the flowing Underwater theme, the Castle theme is a short, doomy-gloomy one.
In addition to the four main themes, the game necessarily contained other incidental music, such as the game over jingle, the level completion jingle and the end theme. In these we see the highly function-driven aspect of video game music. However, for the sake of time and article length, I will discuss those themes in another post.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Literature - Subtext ... on the Internets!
In the study of drama, one important concept is the idea of subtext. A dictionary might define it as the unspoken or hidden motives behind dialogue, a section of text, or even a single word. Without understanding subtext, Hamlet's advise to Ophelia to "Get thee to a nunnery" has less meaning if we don't know that when he says "nunnery" he means "brothel." Much early drama, due to censorship, is rife with subtext. However, one must not confuse this with the often hilarious, yet inappropriate, double entendre. One difference is that the double entendre is almost always "vulgar." However, not all subtext is dirty.
Subtext is a difficult thing to transmit to the audience of a play or TV show. However, this becomes even harder when the playwright or author is not given the benefit of an actor to transmit the idea. Thus, many texts have subtext that is either difficult or impossible to figure out.
However, I have noticed a development in web publishing. I refer, of course, to the ever-useful wiki! The best example of this is Wikipedia, a source for many seekers of knowledge and writers of papers (whether or not they should actually be using it for the latter purpose.) Because of the interrelated nature of the information on the site, many of the pages contain numerous links to other pages. It is very easy to waste hours just following links. Of course, websites have had links like this before. However, wikis are unique because the "everyone can edit" nature allows them to be placed with ease. It is for this very fact that I believe wikis would be a superb medium for a hilarious comedy.
This (inserting the subtext) can be accomplished in two ways. The first method is the more direct method of adding a link with one word, but having the actual destination be the intended subject of the subtext. For instance, in the sentence "I really like the dentist's office," the word like would be a link with the word hate as the actual destination. Examples of this type can be seen on wiki sites like the Wikipedia parody Uncyclopedia, or the Transformers wiki at tfwiki.net. This method, however, is a bit heavy-handed and doesn't allow much in terms of independent analysis on the reader's part. It is, although, often quite hilarious.
The second method, I propose, would combine traditional subtext with the internet wiki variety. One would put a link in the internet method, but the destination link would itself be a subtext word. It would be subtext within subtext. Additionally, the story or narrative could be in multiple parts, linked by its subtext for the curious reader to discover Or, the pages could simply be supplimental detail to the story. Just imagine a wiki-style version of the Lord of the Rings universe. Now, all I have to do is get a wiki and figure out how to do all of that...
Subtext is a difficult thing to transmit to the audience of a play or TV show. However, this becomes even harder when the playwright or author is not given the benefit of an actor to transmit the idea. Thus, many texts have subtext that is either difficult or impossible to figure out.
However, I have noticed a development in web publishing. I refer, of course, to the ever-useful wiki! The best example of this is Wikipedia, a source for many seekers of knowledge and writers of papers (whether or not they should actually be using it for the latter purpose.) Because of the interrelated nature of the information on the site, many of the pages contain numerous links to other pages. It is very easy to waste hours just following links. Of course, websites have had links like this before. However, wikis are unique because the "everyone can edit" nature allows them to be placed with ease. It is for this very fact that I believe wikis would be a superb medium for a hilarious comedy.
This (inserting the subtext) can be accomplished in two ways. The first method is the more direct method of adding a link with one word, but having the actual destination be the intended subject of the subtext. For instance, in the sentence "I really like the dentist's office," the word like would be a link with the word hate as the actual destination. Examples of this type can be seen on wiki sites like the Wikipedia parody Uncyclopedia, or the Transformers wiki at tfwiki.net. This method, however, is a bit heavy-handed and doesn't allow much in terms of independent analysis on the reader's part. It is, although, often quite hilarious.
The second method, I propose, would combine traditional subtext with the internet wiki variety. One would put a link in the internet method, but the destination link would itself be a subtext word. It would be subtext within subtext. Additionally, the story or narrative could be in multiple parts, linked by its subtext for the curious reader to discover Or, the pages could simply be supplimental detail to the story. Just imagine a wiki-style version of the Lord of the Rings universe. Now, all I have to do is get a wiki and figure out how to do all of that...
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Art - Painters Paint, and so do ... Directors?
Recently, I have been taking summer classes at Erskine College. Due to the unforeseen circumstance of both my classes being cancelled, I had to quickly transfer into two other classes. Introduction to the Visual Arts was one of these.
The last few day, however, the class has started me thinking. I previously had an idea for a photograph which would involve costumes and sets. I would put on the costume, set up the props and take the photograph, possibly taking multiple photographs with different costumes and sets. Then, the photographs would be arranged in a grid-like formation for display. The location I wanted, though, reminded me of another thing: my acting class. Previously this year, I took an acting class at school. Among the things our professor taught us was that a play was a series of "moments," that is, little pictures that occur all throughout the production. My photograph idea was almost a series of moments put on display. Conversely, however, I would like to propose this: in a manner of speaking, a director is almost a painter.
No, the director doesn't use paint, he has a script guiding the characters, and the "paint" is the actors and actresses in costume; however, there are still many similarities. The director must ensure the blocking is not monotonous or pointless, and that it keeps the viewer's attention, much in the same way a painter must arrange the elements of the painting on canvas. The beginning and ending of a scene can be its own "moment painting." Indeed, many things can trigger a new moment painting, such as a character shifting across stage, an entrance or exit, or even the revelation of an important piece of information.
Another aspect is the lighting. Both directors and painters use light and shadow to alter their corresponding canvases. A director can use the center light to advantage, either to emphasis something or else to relegate it to the background or to put it in shadow.
Before closing, I would also like to point out that movies also illustrate the director as a composer of moment paintings. Through his or her directional choices in different movies, a director can become well-known for his visual style in the same way that painters can have different painting styles.
The last few day, however, the class has started me thinking. I previously had an idea for a photograph which would involve costumes and sets. I would put on the costume, set up the props and take the photograph, possibly taking multiple photographs with different costumes and sets. Then, the photographs would be arranged in a grid-like formation for display. The location I wanted, though, reminded me of another thing: my acting class. Previously this year, I took an acting class at school. Among the things our professor taught us was that a play was a series of "moments," that is, little pictures that occur all throughout the production. My photograph idea was almost a series of moments put on display. Conversely, however, I would like to propose this: in a manner of speaking, a director is almost a painter.
No, the director doesn't use paint, he has a script guiding the characters, and the "paint" is the actors and actresses in costume; however, there are still many similarities. The director must ensure the blocking is not monotonous or pointless, and that it keeps the viewer's attention, much in the same way a painter must arrange the elements of the painting on canvas. The beginning and ending of a scene can be its own "moment painting." Indeed, many things can trigger a new moment painting, such as a character shifting across stage, an entrance or exit, or even the revelation of an important piece of information.
Another aspect is the lighting. Both directors and painters use light and shadow to alter their corresponding canvases. A director can use the center light to advantage, either to emphasis something or else to relegate it to the background or to put it in shadow.
Before closing, I would also like to point out that movies also illustrate the director as a composer of moment paintings. Through his or her directional choices in different movies, a director can become well-known for his visual style in the same way that painters can have different painting styles.
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