Synopsis: Finding a mysterious disk labeled “Play Me” in her mailbox, Sarah trusts her gut and throws it away. She’s seen enough movies to know that wouldn’t end well.
Description of Media:
I shot original footage for No Thanks on an iPhone 15. The text messages were created by using the built-in Screen Recording feature on IOS. For the creepy visuals, I used an excerpt from a previous project, Annunciation.
My partner Sarah performed the role of the main character and I provided additional dialogue for the phone call scene. I recorded iPhone texting, camera shutter, and Facetime sound effects using Voice Memos and the built in iPhone microphone. Audio from the iPhone footage was also used.
Sound and video edited in Adobe Premiere Pro. Credits created in Photoshop. Exported as H.264 at 1920×1080 resolution, 23.976 fps, bitrate targeting 10 Mbps
Split/Screen Podcast Logo by Craig Moore is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0Split/Screen Podcast: Psychic Detectives (excerpt) by Craig Moore is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
For this exercise, I drafted a sample excerpt for a podcast stemming from the Substack blog my partner, Sarah, and I are putting together. The podcast and blog, called Split/Screen, revolves around discussion of media, usually video games and film, within the context of friendship and cooperative play. For this sample episode, I imagined a discussion of psychic detective-fiction focusing on discussion of Alan Wake IIand Longlegs. The podcast opens with some lighthearted banter between my co-host and I. Soon after, theme music plays, consisting of film-sync beeps, the sound of a projector, a vibraphone jingle, and some glitchy 8-bit percussion. Being a podcast about both games and film, there are sound effects pointing to both throughout the theme music. The vibraphone jingle, composed and recorded by my friend and collaborator Michael Mortilla, creates a classy through-line to unite the sound effects. The theme music fades out, giving way to some introductory discourse on the scope of the imagined podcast and the topic of the episode.
Beginning with a compelling, action-packed image from the Library of Congress’ “Mystery Photos” series, I wanted to see what I could create by further removing context. The image was originally published in this collection because its origin and historical context was unknown by preservationists. After some internet sleuthing, users determined that the image was taken in 1940 during the demolition of an apartment to secure the site of the future War Department Building in Washington DC.
For the purposes of this exercise, I’ve opted to eschew the context uncovered by users in favor of telling a new story through cropping. Removing the swarm of onlookers and second camera operator, I’ve highlighted a single figure as the new focal point. The new image is cropped tightly, creating a sense of intimacy and more immediate danger between the camera operator and the destruction in the distance, which is increasingly foregrounded through the cropping.
In the new image, viewers might imagine the figure as the sole witness of the destruction. Is he far enough away to stay safe? Taking it a step further, reducing the image to a single onlooker creates a sense of cause and effect. To what degree is the figure responsible for the destruction? They don’t call it shooting footage for nothing…
*Full Library of Congress title:Apartment building blasted to make room for War Department building. Washington D.C. Mar 20–what looks to be a photo from Europe is in reality a photograph taken in Washington this morning when a 9-story building was blasted down to make room for the new $4,300,000 war department building. The blast was so neatly placed in the concrete and steel building that it gently folded up like an accordion and collapsed. Photo shows movie photographers as they filmed the scene
Former title: Motion picture cameramen filming on top of cars, the demolition of the Boulevard Apartments at 2121 New York Ave. NW, Washington, D.C.
Browsing photos from a 1947 naval expedition into Antarctica by the United States led me to reflect on scientific advancements of the era as well as the nation’s political climate from that year. After some cursory readings, two primary developments from that year jumped out at me as particularly interesting. The first is the formation of the “Doomsday Clock” by the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, measuring the global threat posed by various technologies and crises along an abstract scale, depicted as hands on a clock moving towards midnight. Fittingly, this year’s Doomsday Clock announcement is quickly approaching, with the 2025 announcement scheduled for January 28. The second development contextualizing my image/audio combination is the signing of the Truman Doctrine in March of the same year, effectively beginning the Cold War following the end of World War II. Asserting the United States’ opposition to the rise of Communism in Eastern Europe, this address contributed immensely to military buildup and technological advancement in the mid twentieth century. The global push to explore the cosmos sped up rapidly, as did the proliferation of nuclear weapons domestically and abroad.
The image speaks to a nationalistic earnestness to push the boundaries of human exploration, to expand American culture and solidify its interests abroad. There is an uncanny jubilance to the young men’s motion, made eerie by the context of an uncharted frontier and the presence of an immense military vessel dominating the background. The sound, taken from a wind-up clock, nods to the creation and symbolic “winding up” of the aforementioned Doomsday Clock at the start of the Cold War. The sound creates a feeling of unease, of expectation, as the young men from the image, seemingly unaware of the gravity of their situation, both physically and historically, are suspended in perpetual play. Reading further still into the juxtaposition of the sound with image, there is a suggested dark humor, a double-entendre suggesting play amidst nuclear winter. The image is free of distinguishable flora or fauna, instead consisting of three simple elements: man, machine, snow. Perhaps the combination of image and audio could be read as speculative fiction- a glimpse into life in the post-apocalypse, of peace amidst armageddon.
“Playtime in Nuclear Winter” by Craig Moore is licensed under CC BY 4.0
Hello, all! My name is Craig Moore. I’ll start off with a quick story. During the final semester of my Fine Arts degree, I was publicly asked by a professor of engineering to define ‘Art.’ Much to the chagrin of my peers, I offered a brief, admittedly ostentatious, response to a deceptively simple question:
“Art is asking questions.”
While my answer garnered some well-deserved eyerolls, it’s a definition I wholeheartedly stand by. Beyond any technical skills or entrepreneurial prowess developed during my three years in FSU’s Studio Art program, the ability to pose and critically analyze complex problems through various lenses was the most valuable expertise I walked away with.
I affectionately reference this anecdote because it lends itself to almost everything I do. I’m beginning my second semester in the MSIT program having completed the aforementioned Studio Art program at FSU last spring. My primary disciplines are video art and virtual environment design, where I combine found and created video with 3D photogrammetry scans and projection mapping.
Photogrammetry scanned selfie
I live in Tallahassee where I’ve worked on-campus at the FSU Innovation Hub for just over two years as a Computer Technologies Intern, subsequently as an Area Specialist, and most currently as a Graduate Assistant. Across these roles, I’ve developed a passion for connecting researchers, faculty, and students with technologies, concepts, and resources to expand and enrich their myriad creative pursuits and research methodologies. It’s also within these roles at the Innovation Hub where I’ve been able to hone my critical thinking (occasionally overthinking) skills in a meaningful capacity beyond the borders of my art practice.
It has been highly rewarding to have a platform to experiment with and learn from practices in systems administration, computer and VR lab development, technology procurement, technical writing, and skill sharing, all the while applying a knack for questioning everything and learning a ton in the process. Drawing on my appreciation for the work I’ve been doing at the Innovation Hub, I decided to pursue a graduate degree in Information Technology. So far, it has made for an interesting contrast with my undergraduate degree, enabling me to question everything in a fresh context while greatly developing my skills as a writer and editor.
Looking forward to this class, I’m excited to deliver on some of the skills I developed during my undergraduate education in the context of professional and information organizations. Of particular interest to me are the resources and exercises focusing on copyright and Creative Commons licensing. A portion of my art practice relies on sourcing found media, the majority of which I’ve obtained no legal rights to implement. While this was not much of a concern in educational and not-for-profit contexts, I fully understand that there is a better and more commercially viable process to follow for sourcing media. Up to this point, my primary concern was simply dodging YouTube’s copyright claims on my non-monetized videos. That said, I’m excited to learn about proper methods for obtaining rights to media, especially as I intend to apply my skills in professional and public contexts in the future.
Lorelai and I (left) with Sarah and Frankenstein (right)
To leave off, I’ll introduce you to my partner, Sarah, and our two cats, Frankenstein and Lorelai, while wishing each of you a Happy New Year and a fruitful semester to come!
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