At the occasion of the 2008 Aspen Institute conference on
Tibetan Arts and Culture, Doug and Mike Starn were invited
by the Anderson Ranch Arts Center (Aspen, CO), to curate and
guide the stage design for His Holiness the Dalai Lama
teachings on Sunday July 26th.
The stage design refers to the Tibetan prayer flag tradition in which countless flags are hung out of doors, open to the winds, for the prayers to spread throughout the world. As the flags fade and degrade in the sun and elements, hope and good wishes are spread and renewed as new flags are hung alongside old ones, reminders of virtue, goodness, protection, and happiness, these flags express genuine heartfelt loving kindness.
Floating above His Holiness the Dalai Lama (HHDL) was a colorful cloud comprised of 2000 prayer flags handmade by local kids in a common prayer/wish for peace, love and understanding. This mass of flags is unlike a normal display of children’s art, in that the artworks are not meant to be seen individually. It is the interconnected whole, it’s the presence of all of the wonderful and beautiful thoughts and intentions joined together that makes the difference to the artwork/cloud; just as it is all the individual efforts together towards peace that surely make the difference to the world. It is the artists’ intention to not only build the kids up as individuals but to build their awareness that together, as members of society, they can make a difference.
Below the cloud is a snowfall of unique and individual snowflakes created by the kids. Cliché as it is, every real snowflake is a unique, beautiful, ephemeral, a minute and unlikely architecture, so delicate they are barely more than an idea. But in accumulation of staggering and immeasurable amounts create glaciers, leading to the realization that the improbable is possible when all come together.
The kid’s visions are underscored and intermixed with photomicrographs of the unique crystal formations of actual snowflakes photographed by the Starns. Each flake starts as a frozen molecule of H2O with six sides, they each grow differently simply because as they move around in the clouds collecting more frozen water vapor each one is occupying a different microscopic environment than every other burgeoning flake. The final shape of each snowflake is a record of its individual journey from the clouds, before it is eventually reabsorbed into the atmosphere—returning, once again, to the ideas of transmutation and regeneration and impermanence. In the Buddhist tradition and in the Starns’ world, art and science are not in argument; both seek to understand life and the nature of perception. Ultimately, what their work seeks to both personify and provoke is a state of mindfulness in which opposites such as light and dark, or same and different, are not held in a tense equilibrium but rather in dynamic counterpoise.
The Starns’ engagement with Buddhist principles takes many forms, both concrete and abstract. It is present in their photographs of the eighth-century Buddhist monk Ganjin, the archetypal blind seer; it flows through their images of trees and their discarded leaves, symbols of birth and rebirth; and it extends to their unique photographic treatments, in which the passage of time is built in and wholes are made up only by parts. A statue of the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the Chinese Buddhist deity of compassion and mercy, for instance, which employs an antique carbon color-printing technique to build an image from successive delicate and ripped layers of prints in cyan, magenta, yellow, and black. The frail colors shift and swim before the eyes and it is clear the full color is constructed from parts.
Twin brothers Doug and Mike Starn have always insisted on the collaborative nature of their art, a binocular vision that draws on the works of philosophy, art, history, and science. They are enthralled with “the coincidence of opposites,” a yin requiring a yang, and have used it as a springboard for their ontological investigations for more than 20 years. Chief among these is light, both metaphor and manifestation of knowledge. They choose the medium of photography to call attention to the instability of vision and the ephemerality of the moment. But in their search for light to record their images, the camera also becomes an instrument of awakening, a tool to show us the invisible light that describes the world to our eyes and constitutes our unique subjectivity.