I believe in absolute truth.
I believe also that everyone has interpreted and does interpret those
truths as best they can, through art and other means. Dimitri Martin, in his “If I” tour said
something to the effect of this: that
there is a parallel universe right before our eyes which is revealed through a
small shift in perspective. Perhaps the
best way to gain this shift in perspective is to learn from someone
else’s. Everyone grows up with
experiences completely unique to herself.
This is clearly evident across centuries and nations, but I would also
argue also that no two siblings grow up with the exact same view of the
world. And the more perspectives we
gain, the more “universes” we see, or perhaps, the more clearly we see the
universe as it truly is, tangibly or intangibly.
In
order to demonstrate this belief, I utilized the Disney attraction “it’s a
small world” designed for the UNICEF pavilion at the 1964 New York World’s
Fair, later relocated at Disneyland park in California and then replicated for
Walt Disney World in Florida and for Disneylands Paris, Tokyo, and Hong
Kong. Most likely, plans are in place
for a sixth permanent installation in the upcoming Shanghai Disneyland. It’s a staple attraction, easily and
immediately readable. And the small
world song, written and composed by Richard and Robert Sherman, has become a
multi-nationally recognized and cherished song (also parodied and endearingly
dreaded). Its lyrics were intended to be
simple enough to be easily translated into any and every language – lines like
“there is just one moon and one golden sun and a smile means friendship to
everyone.”
That
one golden sun can also represent light, truth, or anything dependable in our
lives, anything about which everyone can relate. This unifying symbol is represented in every
room of the attraction yet with a drastically different design in each case. For my presentation, I chose to organize the
graphics of these suns side by side – all together, all at once. They all look like the sun, they represent
the source well enough that, shown separately, one might say, “Well, that’s a
sun, son,” yet none of them really replicate the sun. They are representations seen through a
different perspective. This is true of
any text. No artist ever truly captures
the source as it is or was. Why should
it? If I want to see the sun, I’ll step
outside and I’ll feel it on my skin. From
another, from their art or voice, I want to know how they see the sun and what
it means to them. I want to see from
their perspective. In this way I gain
two-fold: I learn to love the sun (or
whatever the subject) even more, and I also learn to love the sharer. And through this, our beautiful world gets a
little bit smaller.





