Rebecca Hb. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beckyh2112) wrote2006-12-19 11:48 pm
beckyh2112) wrote2006-12-19 11:48 pm
Entry tags:
Advent #19: Pictures at the Exhibition
Title: Pictures at the Exhibition
Fandom: G1 Transformers
Characters: Arbiter, Lacquer
Classification: Gen, but there's one line of meanly-intended relationship bit
Rating: PG
Author's Note: The term 'chemokinetic sculpture' and the title of the piece come from Lunatron.
---
The newest exhibition set had been arranged in Shadowlight and although it wouldn't be officially open to the public until that night, Lacquer had arranged an early viewing for himself and Arbiter. He thoroughly enjoyed the chance to hear the sculptor's opinions about the different art pieces without having to posture at some of the more thin-armored artists around.
This was a very interesting exhibition to Lacquer, as it was specifically for Earth-influenced art. Not a single piece in here was older than Earth Contact, and there were a lot of unfamilar names and styles on display. Or names and styles that he hadn't seen for a few million years before the Great Shutdown. Earth had set the fire of inspiration in a fair number of younglings, and resparked the fires of many artists burned out by the war.
"This is interesting," Arbiter said. "I like the material, and Stormwend seems to have a very deft hand and a good optic for detail. He even put in the transformation seams, if you look closely."
Lacquer tilted his head to the side and studied the sculpture Arbiter was looking at. An extremely glossy red-brown material carved in the shape of an Earthside Seeker in alternate-mode, every little detail expertly carved into the material. It looked as if it had always been in the shape of a Seeker, which was quite skillful for a sculptor. A strange, organic scent emanated from the material. The small plaque on its display pedestal said only, "Seeker - Stormwend - Rosewood".
"Looks nice," Lacquer agreed.
"Yet another name I don't recognize..." Arbiter drifted away from the wooden jet to a peculiar sort of motion sculpture. A weak acid poured down a plate of metal that it was slowly etching. At the bottom of the plate, the acid fell into a basin and pooled there, only to be slowly cycled back up to the top to pour down again. "Perpetual Dissolution - Jetstream" was neatly printed on the plaque.
"I'm not surprised. You've never had much of an interest in avant-garde art since the Golden Age." Lacquer glanced at the piece himself. "Nice fountain, but I like the water ones better. They've got an audio aspect that's interesting."
"This is avant-garde?" Arbiter looked up at him, yellow optics curious.
Lacquer nodded. "Yes, this is avant-garde. That litte mudball's brought Cybertron back to life in more ways than just feeding us energy. I've never seen more art that wasn't about death, madness, and the War than I have since about a decade ago. Even the writers are getting into it. Tick-Tock actually put out a novel trilogy last year that didn't kill everybody at the end!"
"Hm." Arbiter gestured at Perpetual Dissolution. "You called this a fountain. Didn't I hear a different name for this type of art, something more formal?"
"Chemokinetic sculpture." Lacquer flicked his wings derisively. "The old-guard artists think if they give it a pretentious name, it won't be some art-type we never thought of and would never have thought of without Earth."
"It wouldn't have been displayed in a gallery as prestigious as Shadowlight without that name. It is a sign of acceptance." Arbiter frowned. "Of course, these are the same people who accept chemical emotive sculpture and slogist works as perfectly valid forms of art."
Lacquer cycled air through his intakes in a vexed hiss. "Let's not get into that again."
"People used to ask me why they never saw me at parties anymore, and I never knew quite how to tell them that I abhorred all the artists they currently lauded as being so new and in touch with modern sensibilities."
"Yes, Arbiter."
"At least you use those horrible temperas to depict something instead of making abstracts." Arbiter rotated the wheel-halves folded up against his lower legs, then stalked over to one of the side-galleries. "Look, at this. Stupidity in Blue. A Seeker with his chest rent into shards of metal, his face contorted in death-agony. It's not even a sculpture - it's a corpse. Do you know his name, Lacquer?"
The needle-jet took a step back from Arbiter's accusing hiss. "No, and it's not important to the piece."
"Oh? Slog claims to memorialize his victims and protest the War. You, you've been around since the beginning of the War, and you don't even know the name of the mech this, this atrocity is made from!" Arbiter's wheel-halves spun blindingly fast. "His peers accept it as Art, and so it has become Art, so chemical emotive sculpture has become Art, so vivincorporation has become Art! We used to call that sort of thing torture or desecration, but now it is Art!"
Lacquer raised his hands to display their lack of weapons. "We've covered this before, Arbiter."
"It's important!"
"It's not important. It's just an art movement you don't like." He frowned slightly. "I thought you liked vivincorporation."
"The good vivincorporationists are absolutely fascinating. I just wish they would just make casts of the... bits they want to use in their art." Arbiter's wheels slowed. "And it is not just an art movement I don't like. It's the whole worldview that spawned this kind of art. Art does not exist in a vacuum, and the mind of the artist pervades every part of the piece, no matter what the formalists say."
"So you prefer dead cities to dead mechs in your art. That doesn't make what they do not art."
Arbiter looked at him contemptuously. "I said what they created was art, did I not?"
Oh, yes, that had been part of the rant, hadn't it? Lacquer flexed his wings in irritation. "So you did."
"And what was that about dead cities, mm?"
"How much has Atalantix been in your art since it sank?" Lacquer snapped. "Let it finish dying."
Arbiter's smile was as sweet as strychnine. "When you fall out of love with me, perhaps I will. Until then, I'll keep the flavor of my city like you keep the mech-fluids of your victims."
End
(Today's fandom and situation inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dragoness_e. To suggest tomorrow's flashfic, respond to this post.)
Fandom: G1 Transformers
Characters: Arbiter, Lacquer
Classification: Gen, but there's one line of meanly-intended relationship bit
Rating: PG
Author's Note: The term 'chemokinetic sculpture' and the title of the piece come from Lunatron.
---
The newest exhibition set had been arranged in Shadowlight and although it wouldn't be officially open to the public until that night, Lacquer had arranged an early viewing for himself and Arbiter. He thoroughly enjoyed the chance to hear the sculptor's opinions about the different art pieces without having to posture at some of the more thin-armored artists around.
This was a very interesting exhibition to Lacquer, as it was specifically for Earth-influenced art. Not a single piece in here was older than Earth Contact, and there were a lot of unfamilar names and styles on display. Or names and styles that he hadn't seen for a few million years before the Great Shutdown. Earth had set the fire of inspiration in a fair number of younglings, and resparked the fires of many artists burned out by the war.
"This is interesting," Arbiter said. "I like the material, and Stormwend seems to have a very deft hand and a good optic for detail. He even put in the transformation seams, if you look closely."
Lacquer tilted his head to the side and studied the sculpture Arbiter was looking at. An extremely glossy red-brown material carved in the shape of an Earthside Seeker in alternate-mode, every little detail expertly carved into the material. It looked as if it had always been in the shape of a Seeker, which was quite skillful for a sculptor. A strange, organic scent emanated from the material. The small plaque on its display pedestal said only, "Seeker - Stormwend - Rosewood".
"Looks nice," Lacquer agreed.
"Yet another name I don't recognize..." Arbiter drifted away from the wooden jet to a peculiar sort of motion sculpture. A weak acid poured down a plate of metal that it was slowly etching. At the bottom of the plate, the acid fell into a basin and pooled there, only to be slowly cycled back up to the top to pour down again. "Perpetual Dissolution - Jetstream" was neatly printed on the plaque.
"I'm not surprised. You've never had much of an interest in avant-garde art since the Golden Age." Lacquer glanced at the piece himself. "Nice fountain, but I like the water ones better. They've got an audio aspect that's interesting."
"This is avant-garde?" Arbiter looked up at him, yellow optics curious.
Lacquer nodded. "Yes, this is avant-garde. That litte mudball's brought Cybertron back to life in more ways than just feeding us energy. I've never seen more art that wasn't about death, madness, and the War than I have since about a decade ago. Even the writers are getting into it. Tick-Tock actually put out a novel trilogy last year that didn't kill everybody at the end!"
"Hm." Arbiter gestured at Perpetual Dissolution. "You called this a fountain. Didn't I hear a different name for this type of art, something more formal?"
"Chemokinetic sculpture." Lacquer flicked his wings derisively. "The old-guard artists think if they give it a pretentious name, it won't be some art-type we never thought of and would never have thought of without Earth."
"It wouldn't have been displayed in a gallery as prestigious as Shadowlight without that name. It is a sign of acceptance." Arbiter frowned. "Of course, these are the same people who accept chemical emotive sculpture and slogist works as perfectly valid forms of art."
Lacquer cycled air through his intakes in a vexed hiss. "Let's not get into that again."
"People used to ask me why they never saw me at parties anymore, and I never knew quite how to tell them that I abhorred all the artists they currently lauded as being so new and in touch with modern sensibilities."
"Yes, Arbiter."
"At least you use those horrible temperas to depict something instead of making abstracts." Arbiter rotated the wheel-halves folded up against his lower legs, then stalked over to one of the side-galleries. "Look, at this. Stupidity in Blue. A Seeker with his chest rent into shards of metal, his face contorted in death-agony. It's not even a sculpture - it's a corpse. Do you know his name, Lacquer?"
The needle-jet took a step back from Arbiter's accusing hiss. "No, and it's not important to the piece."
"Oh? Slog claims to memorialize his victims and protest the War. You, you've been around since the beginning of the War, and you don't even know the name of the mech this, this atrocity is made from!" Arbiter's wheel-halves spun blindingly fast. "His peers accept it as Art, and so it has become Art, so chemical emotive sculpture has become Art, so vivincorporation has become Art! We used to call that sort of thing torture or desecration, but now it is Art!"
Lacquer raised his hands to display their lack of weapons. "We've covered this before, Arbiter."
"It's important!"
"It's not important. It's just an art movement you don't like." He frowned slightly. "I thought you liked vivincorporation."
"The good vivincorporationists are absolutely fascinating. I just wish they would just make casts of the... bits they want to use in their art." Arbiter's wheels slowed. "And it is not just an art movement I don't like. It's the whole worldview that spawned this kind of art. Art does not exist in a vacuum, and the mind of the artist pervades every part of the piece, no matter what the formalists say."
"So you prefer dead cities to dead mechs in your art. That doesn't make what they do not art."
Arbiter looked at him contemptuously. "I said what they created was art, did I not?"
Oh, yes, that had been part of the rant, hadn't it? Lacquer flexed his wings in irritation. "So you did."
"And what was that about dead cities, mm?"
"How much has Atalantix been in your art since it sank?" Lacquer snapped. "Let it finish dying."
Arbiter's smile was as sweet as strychnine. "When you fall out of love with me, perhaps I will. Until then, I'll keep the flavor of my city like you keep the mech-fluids of your victims."
End
(Today's fandom and situation inspired by
dragoness_e. To suggest tomorrow's flashfic, respond to this post.)