 Image by Gabor [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
Gustav Freytag. |
Chapter I, Part 1 of Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama is now available on the Technique of Drama page.
This section covers the following topics on playwriting and stage drama: How the drama originates in the mind of the poet. Development of the idea. Material and its transformation. The historian and the poet. The range of material. Transformation of the real, according to Aristotle.
Image by Gabor [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
Gustav Freytag. |
The Biographical Note and the Introduction to Gustav Freytag’s Technique of the Drama are now available on the Technique of Drama page.
The Biographical Note discusses Freytag’s schooling and works. The Introduction covers the following topics on playwriting and stage drama: Technique of the drama not absolute. Certain craftsman’s skill of earlier times. Condition of present time. Aristotle’s Poetics. Lessing. The great dramatic works as models.
 Image by BrokenSegue (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
An old tool to understand dramatic structure still has its use. |
The Freytag Pyramid was created by German playwright and novelist Gustav Freytag in the 1800’s and introduced in his Technique of the Drama. What exactly is it and what does it do?
Freytag painstakingly deconstructed plays by Aristotle, Sophocles, Shakespeare, Goethe, Schiller, and others in order to define what makes 5-act and classical dramatic structure work. The result is the Freytag triangle. It describes the building and resolution of dramatic tension through 5 stages which roughly map to the 5-act structure: Exposition; Rising Action; Climax; Falling Action; and Denouement.
As of this writing, for many similar reasons to the John Quincy Adams Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory, there are no fully readable versions of Freytag’s work available online (meaning that those versions available are rife with typographical errors as of this writing). Since it is in the public domain, I am starting the task of editing Technique of the Drama and will make new chapters available online as they are completed. The ultimate goal of this project is to produce and make available an e-book of the work at no charge.
So, without further delay, here is the first installment of Freytag’s Technique of the Drama, the Biographical Note.
 Image by By Julo (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
How big is small? |
Planck length. Never heard of it? It’s the smallest theoretically measurable distance in the universe. It’s equal to 1.616252 x 10-35 meters. To put that into perspective, that 10-20 times the diameter of a proton. Or, imagine 1.61625 with a decimal and 35 zeros in front of it. Wicked small.
So, why can’t smaller distances be measured? Good question. There’s the practical reason and the theoretical reason. The theoretical reason is that, due to some pretty trippy effects of quantum physics, space kind of gets loopy when you get smaller than a Planck length, and so any individual effect of an object less than a Planck length becomes impossible to tell apart from the spot next to it. Like I said, trippy.
The practical reason has something to do with the diameter of particles. Essentially, particles can only be used to measure objects larger than themselves with any kind of accuracy. One way to explain this is imagine yourself in a dark room with a statue on the other side. You have an endless supply of glow-in-the-dark basketballs to lob at it. Well, you can’t see the statue directly, but its position and basic shape can be extrapolated by the way in which the basketballs bounce off. For a little more accuracy, ping-pong balls can be used, but you’re still not going to get minutiae of the statue’s surface, like how may fingers it exactly has. Although it will be possible to tell that it’s arm is pointing to the right.
Ultimately the best spheres to lob at the statue are photons. This happens all the time — just flip on the light switch, and there’s the statue in the gallery, five fingers, reaching heavenward. And it’s made of marble to boot. A scanning electron microscope works the same way, only using electrons instead of photons.
But, even electrons and photons are too big to lob at something smaller than a Planck constant. It would be the equivalent of lobbing wrecking balls at our statue, and by the time we’ve discovered its position, there’s nothing left to describe.
So, how small can we go? A Planck length. But not quite yet.
 Image ©2007 by Rubashkyn [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
What experimentation is left for space exploration? |
With NASA shutting down the Space Shuttle program (a decision that I strongly disagree with for numerous reasons, not the least of which is the US giving up a technological advantage it has over other developed nations), the big question that springs to mind is, what role does NASA and space exploration have in the future for the US?
Putting aside such notions as Star Trek, and Fantastic Four universes, the reality is that space exploration of the Apollo variety will never again have the same impact on humanity as that 1969 moon landing did. Unless, somehow, intelligent alien species are involved.
The impact of science on humanity can’t be denied. The somewhat apocryphal epigram “I spent $25.4 billion and all I got was this Velcro,” echoes the current fiscal attitude in the US. But, truth be told, it wasn’t only Velcro that came from the program. Apollo resulted in the invention, development, and improvement of flight computers, integrated circuits, fuel cells, computer-controlled manufacturing, extended shelf-life (freeze-dried) foods, athletic shoes, home insulation, water purification, CAT scans, MRIs, cordless tools and appliances, and about 1400 other inventions.
The impact of the Apollo program, however, shouldn’t be measured by any of the benefits it provided, the technology that sprang from it, the medical advances and understanding of the human body, not even the bragging rights to John Glenn’s footprint. The fact is that the space race in the 1960’s was a part of the Cold War, and even if neither side made it to the moon, the money would have been spent.
The problem is that there will never be any equivalent influx of investment in science until that day comes when we are forced to interact with extraterrestrial species. Unless private corporations have something to gain from it.
Currently, there is a single glimmer of hope, and that’s the International Space Station (ISS). The ISS has experimental racks called EXPRESS Racks. These are modular equipment racks that are designed with interfaces for experimental modules that can weigh up to 64 pounds, and can connect to 500 watts of 28vDC power, RS422, ethernet, discrete, and video data connectors, air and water cooling, and nitrogen supply and waste gas vent. What this means is that any company can pay an organization with the capability to deliver a standardized payload to the ISS to conduct zero-gravity experiments in what amounts to the most sophisticated cleanroom ever invented.
But the ISS is the International Space Station. So what does this have to do with NASA? Only that due to the US’s short-sightedness, we have removed our own access to the most important laboratory in our history, and instead of being able to provide delivery services to other countries, for a fee, we will now have to pay them to run our own experiments.
It’s true that NASA will continue to design and perform unmanned missions. However, unless the equipment and interfaces are standardized (requirements that may need to be ignored for specialized experimental equipment), costs will remain high every time redundant technology needs to be developed anew. Does that really serve this nation’s technological and fiscal interests?
What’s the result of this? Without a reusable delivery vehicle, the United States will lose its technological edge, resulting in increased technology imports and liscencing from the EU, Japan, and China. The end result for NASA, is that the Agency becomes a boat without a paddle.
 Image by Southworth & Hawes (The Metropolitan Museum of Art) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
Newly edited e-books of John Quincy Adams’ Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory are now available. |
I have recently added FREE ebooks of The John Quincy Adams Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory to the JQA Lectures page. They are available for download in both ePub and Kindle formats.
 Image ©2011 Brian Triber. |
Central conflict, character traits, setting, theme: which comes first? |
I recently got caught up in a rut. It was one of those ruts that seemed to double-back upon itself until I wasn’t just running in circles — I was corkscrewing myself into the abyss. The subject of this exercise in double-thinking self-annoyance was theme.
Before launching into an explanation, let me state that what I’m putting forth is my experience. All writers have varying approaches that work for them, but won’t work for others. So, milage on this road may vary. Having said that, allow me to explain how theme sent me down the rabbit hole.
This is the kind of thing that most everyone has learned about in English class, that theme is the backbone of story, that plot is written around it. But somewhere along the line I was misled. I had been taught that character came first (something I still don’t necessarily believe), and that plot came from the process of character discovery, and theme was a byproduct that was identified after the fact. After the first draft, identifying the theme was key for the rewrite to determine how to tweak the story to reinforce the theme.
Now, though, I’m not so sure. I’m finding that theme may be key to writing the first draft. My best ideas tend to come to me plot-first. Many writers will say that’s putting the cart before the horses, but having been weaned on science fiction, it’s nearly impossible to develop a compelling plot line from character when you’re trying to describe a vision of the future, or some unknown technology that suggests a particular conflict. That’s why much classic Sci-Fi tends to be societal and philosophical in nature with, it can be argued, fairly flat characterization.
My answer to that is what some might call “shoehorning” characters into a plot. I don’t consider it shoehorning, however. The key to how my characters work is that I don’t begin writing the story until I’ve had a chance to develop the characters into full emotional and motivational beings. The question is, what kind of character works in a given plot? Whatever character I develop has to have a main character trait that illuminates the central conflict of the plot. If I’m working on a plot about a long space journey, I’ll want to consider giving my main character claustrophobia. For a story that originates on a dairy farm, the main character should have lactose intolerance or a dairy allergy — assuming that the central conflict is about the farm.
It seems to me, however, that theme has to come first. In developing a story, a related theme should be found to encapsulate the central conflict. So, for instance, if my story had to do with time travel, and my protagonist’s main motivation was to prevent an event from occurring, a theme to match this well would be “we are amalgams of our past experience.” Now, the character can be further developed to focus on the theme: a man returns to the past to stop his childhood self from quitting the school band, because in the future he would be able to woo a desired spouse through music.
Now the theme is in place, the central conflict, the main personality trait of the protagonist has been discovered, and the plot begins to unfold. Setting is the missing piece, and that becomes effortless now that we know the story has to do with amalgams of past experience, so the central conflict, being internal, can occur in the instrument storage room among ancient dusty cases and shelves of sheet music for the characters to reflect upon.
So, I’ve managed to emerge from this rabbit-hole with a little more direction. I have the theme for my current project, the central conflict to reinforce it, and the plot to support it. The characters are sketched out, and can now be filled out a bit more, with motivation and internal conflict that mirror and echo the theme. Now, if I can figure out what font to use…
Image by Southworth & Hawes (The Metropolitan Museum of Art) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
The Concluding Lecture on Rhetoric and Oratory. |
The final lecture, Conclusion has been added to the John Quincy Adams Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory page. This marks the completion of the JQA Lectures project.
Image by Southworth & Hawes (The Metropolitan Museum of Art) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons |
JQA Lecture XXXVI Delivery. |
Lecture XXXVI, Delivery, has been added to the John Quincy Adams Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory page.
 Image from Wikipedia. |
Art, or garbage? |
 Image from Taglialatella Galleries. Also, you can paint your own Marilyn at WebExhibits. |
Art, or mass production? |
 Image from ObeyGiant.com. |
Art, or graffiti? |
 Image from Microscopesblog.com. |
Art, or life? |
What is Art? Is it true that art is better defined by what it is not than what it is?
We believe that garbage is not art, but Marcel Duchamp proved that wasn’t true when he displayed a urinal as found art with his piece, Fountain, back in 1917. Andy Warhol went about proving that mass produced items can be art with 100 Soup Cans and Marilyn Diptych in 1962. Shepard Fairey has echoed the same theme in a new way begining in 1989 with his André the GIant Has a Posse street art sticker campaign, and more recently with his Urban Renewal Kit, which makes people part of the performance aspect of the art by allowing individuals to download, print and paste up copies of his André Obey images.
Usually, one can label things like urinals, mass produced paintings, and graphics as “design.” But the fact that Duchamp’s urinal, the Marilyn paintings, and the André graphics are considered art, points to a more subtle idea: the definition of what is art changes over time. Art is actually a moving object, defined by what has come before. Anyone else, at this point, simply displaying a urinal is a plumber, anyone making block prints is a factory worker, anyone posting an André sticker is a defacer of property.
(The exception to this seems to be when a work is a commentary on a previous work of art, but even then, isn’t it in fact further defining the previous work rather than defining itself? Examples of this are Stieglitz’s photo of Duchamp’s fountain, and Fairey’s self referential Giant Star. But this is a digression…)
The same might also be said of “Life.” Is it easier to define life by what is not life, honing in on the true definition (as science has over the ages), the definition adapting and evolving like life itself? In fact, can’t life be defined more by the questions surrounding its negative space than the answers that fill its matter?
Scanning electron microscopy works similarly, by measuring the angles of bounced electrons to discover what is not under the lens, just as photons bounce off objects to reveal what is not being viewed. And isn’t Duchamp doing the same with his urinal, by allowing it to define negative space, just as Warhol defines what isn’t mass produced, just as Fairey defines what isn’t street art, just as life defines what isn’t inanimate?
