The Screenshot Sangria

Using what you have to make something great.

Lately, on TikTok, there has been a lot of “web weaving” which reminded me of the power of a screenshot. When I ended my last newsletter, I said you had to curate your own museum, the one inside your mind. Web weaving is one of the ways we take our curation to the tangible world (if social media counts as tangible). For those who don’t know what web weaving is, you probably see them a lot on TikTok, I did one on time. It’s usually bits of media surrounding a theme. It can be famous works or text posts or tweets. Most of the time it is composed of various screenshots.

When I began the discussion on the screenshot I originally was thinking about how people might screenshot their works in progress. Such as I did.

But making original art is not always the case. In the concept of web weaving, we are creating a visual digital diary. It’s effective in so many ways. These curated pieces are low risk and done with intent and, often are just a collection of things people have read or seen. Yet they are drawn to them in some way. It is a great form of self-expression and also self-discovery. I find we don’t see all of the themes we are intuitively drawn to until we lay everything out. Web weaving feels like an experiment to understanding what attracts you the most. Mine has been time, the passage of it, the insane idea that we must make the most of it, and the future—not looking so far ahead we forget about the now. This form is not new, but I’ve noticed an influx of it in the past year. With the revival of E-books and the newsletter (which I think is the new blog) screenshots are being thrown out everywhere. It is the casual sharing of something so intimate that I enjoy. Posts with the hashtag #webweaving often are the most gut-wrenching raw explorations of what it means to be human. Posting other people’s words is a way to hide behind our beliefs. If we didn’t say it then it’s not as intimate. This is false, and often those moments I am scrolling through 23 slides describing a longing for girlhood I feel I understand the creator of the post even more. In photo dumps and story posts, the highlighted texts or the movie stills all of those tell me so much about a person. We believe we have veiled our true feelings with our screenshots when in reality we have cut ourselves open. This is what you consume when no one is looking. That piece of you that is caught in those slide shows or those Instagram carousels tucked between selfies and shots of wine glasses are like diary entries, and I read every single one.

Web weaving is one way to utilize the screenshot, I discuss this because again I think we forget how often we are creating something even if it is not an “original” piece. But what I am specifically interested in when it comes to the screenshot and original works is what they often show. Take this for example

This is a screenshot I made to promote the original tangent on my story. It is comprised of a few of my own images, the notes app, the Pinterest board I used to save screenshot art, and two landing collages I used for the piece specifically. This shows a lot of my work living in harmony with works in progress. Things that belong in my portfolio but that I have curated all together. Works that are in different projects but I felt flowed together well. It is a display of my work in the space in which I edit, curate, and create essentially. Like web weaving, it shows similar themes but it also shows all my tools. It even has my minimized photoshop document, my facetime app, my texts, my everything. It shows what I have been using specifically. It is a transparent look at my process. My InDesign file screenshot is me saying in a subtle way that I am working on something, and it may not look like this at the end, but it looks like this right now. Which I find very intimate because it is a look at the unfinished. It is releasing the pressure of perfection and surprise and relaxing to the flow of process. The whole thing becomes a modge-podge mix of balanced chaos. My portfolio, inspiration, and diary exploded onto my screen and this is what is left in the ashes. I think there is also something to say about utilizing the visual aspects of technology we all recognize.

In some ways what I think makes it so compelling is the transparency about what is used. Artists are such gatekeepers with their processes sometimes. This is an immediately recognizable space. One that says you can do this too, and you know the exact steps to take to replicate it. It also forces us into the exact perspective of the artist. This is what they look at every day, that desktop. It puts you in someone else’s shoes.

I love that it is also a digital collage of images and it doesn’t pretend to be anything else. Technology is often terrible in aesthetics. It is sleek and muted. It is rounded edges and light grey highlights with sterile text. But when we look at screenshots composed of works in progress or works of art, the softness and craft of those images work in harmony.

It also just feels cool because it is so casual and in some ways feels more authentic because it’s like you’re living in a glass house. It’s saying yeah, whatever, this is something I made but I don’t have to post something super high-res right now. The humbled artist uses the screenshot, there is a sort of shyness to it. In my case when I was showing my book, I wanted people to know I was working on something without making a big announcement. I was showing a lot of things all at once to mask what was the most important aspect of the image, my book. I didn’t want people to think I took myself so seriously, despite pouring my heart and soul into my first photobook. It became my safety net. I enjoy this contrast of seriousness. Here is something very important to me, my work, and here is a particularly eclectic way to view it. I am essentially serving Michelin star food on paper plates.

In art school (at FIT at least) our professors often exposed us to art that is out of the realm of the typical, straightforward, photograph. In one instance my professor shared an artist who takes google earth screenshots and curates them. His name was Jon Rafman. His project is more complex than I can go into. In short, Google Earth is a documentation of every crevice of the earth a sphere of nine cameras can get to, and Rafman curates a select set of images that this sphere takes. It takes one tool that is “neutral” in the way it takes images and an artist who puts these images together in a very thoughtful way. I went on Google Earth to experiment with screenshot art.

Here is a photo I took of my hometown movie theater. It was the first thing I could think to look up that wasn’t my own home. It was interesting in a way to think about why google earth was so interesting when it first came out. Most people just looked up their own addresses. Explored the scenes they saw every day before venturing to, Athens, Paris, or the coast of California. We often hope to see ourselves when in most cases we see life happening for a minor second, without us. Google Earth becomes a time capsule like all images, but because it seems so modern it is often jarring to realize images could be a few years old. In the same way, a screenshot or any image captures something as it was for only a moment. In many cases with updates, with new models of computers and phones coming out, seeing the graphic elements located around the screenshot is like carbon dating. I find this aspect particularly interesting when looking at them. I know exactly when a screenshot was taken simply by the design of the app or home screen. I think this adds to the overall effect of a screenshot. Some things are timeless and we strive to be timeless. Screenshots never have been so there is a finite amount of time in which the image will not immediately be labeled as outdated.

On Google Earth, you have to be a little bit more aware of the markers that age an image. When I went to my parent’s house on Google Earth just to see, on their porch, there is pictured a bike we sold years ago, Pre Covid. Here at the theater, we see a more modern image dated by The French Dispatch movie poster. Meaning the image was taken post-Covid. Two parts of my hometown maybe a mile apart and to me I view them in a different world. The screenshot and google earth places them in exactly the same moment. I then randomized my search and found this:

This is from Coppet Switzerland, I explored around for a little while and found these two (DHL?) workers walking out in matching outfits. I didn’t think twice about the screenshot. It is not necessarily a work of art in the way we imagine, but it does have this interesting symmetry going on that I was drawn to. It took me 3 seconds to find it. Two people doing their job. In these settings, I think we are drawn to radical normalcy. I was comforted by the familiar, in the same way seeing screenshots of desktops give me comfort because I recognize the space.

I spent a lot of time looking for something out of the ordinary. To really WOW everyone.

In most cases, I mainly saw life happening. Which I argue is even more interesting. The screenshot becomes a tool in this case just like Google Earth. It becomes a way to make images without leaving your desk. It is accessible. It is three buttons on your computer. On my Instagram story, I told everyone the first thing I ever really learned about art was from my grandpa. His belief was it is not about what you make art on but the art you make. The screenshot is a great example of using what you have to reconstruct and reimagine your ideas and projects.

All of these examples of utilizing the screenshot are simply an exercise in thinking outside the box. Looking at what you have and making from it. It reminds me of Wolfgang Tillman in a way. Widely known for many things but his curation style is what I am thinking of right now. His shows use magazine tear-outs, journal pages, and every throwaway media you can think of. There’s something to be said about giving everything a chance. By reminding people that there shouldn’t be limits on creation and curation, I am telling the world what my grandpa told me. Use what you have. I hope to create a little net zero social media page. For every model that buys the most expensive camera or art tools, I’ll show the most accessible ways we can express ourselves. I believe in the unexpected tools, I believe in the power of a screenshot. I like this idea of broadening art. I just listed out a few ways the screenshot can be used and why I think they are interesting, but I want to see more. I would love to see a whole book of people’s desktops. Or screenshots of detail shots of other art. Open up Google Earth, get those VHS tapes digitized, and take some screenshots of the aesthetics of your home videos. Load your web weaving onto your desktop and preview all the images. Arrange them in the space. If you can’t hang anything on your walls, hang it on your computer. I’ll be first in line to take a look at it all. Like an elementary school teacher I will say, there is no wrong way to make art. So make it.