Artifact Part 3 of 3. Five small (85-228 pieces) fine art puzzles made by Artifact; by five cutting designers with very different styles. (about 5000 words; 60 photos)
I had a minor epiphany while reading your latest posting about wooden jigsaw puzzles, Bill. I call it a minor one only because it concerns something that should have been obvious to me long before today; namely, the puzzles you assemble, study, and treasure are each two works of art simultaneously.
When I've owned jigsaw puzzles in the past, ones of the more ordinary, cardboard variety, especially ones that built up into images of some famous painting or some especially lovely scene, I've tended to think, upon their completion, something along the lines of "Wow, it's great to see and and recall to mind this masterpiece of a picture—I'll leave it intact awhile before boxing the puzzle up again and returning it to my puzzle shelf." Aside from possibly taking minor notice of the thickness or tight fit of a particular puzzle brand's cardboard, my appreciation of what I'd just assembled was nearly all for its picture.
Well, it has struck me that when you describe at length the delight you can take in the feel of puzzle pieces, the clever design of whimsies, incredible subtleties of puzzle manufacture, etc., etc., that you, Bill have got TWO works of art on your table when you are enjoying one of the wooden puzzles in your collection.
I admire your sensitivity in this regard, Bill. Carry on, Friend. Perhaps, I understood the attraction of your hobby on some level, and did realize that craft was involved; but today, for whatever reason, it suddenly became clearer to me that I ought to think of the folks who make your beloved puzzles, as artists.
By the way, my favourite among the puzzles you reviewed above is Les Vessenots in Auvers, by reason of BOTH Van Gogh's contribution to it AND the contribution of the puzzle-makers. Also, by the way, I rather like two-sided puzzles, myself, though my experiences with them have been limited to doing large cardboard floor-puzzles with my Kindergarten students. If I were still teaching Kindergarten, I might try to buy the six-sided block puzzle from you!
Thanks, Greg. I definitely think of cutting design as an art, and just like any art form it can be done with varying degrees of technical quality (in accordance with the standards of that art form.) Ideally, the image and the cutting design complement each other in such a way that the experience of assembling the puzzle is greater than the sum of its parts.
And although I hesitate to make a distinction between arts and crafts, each of those is also related to a craft that also shapes the aesthetics of assembly. Besides the intrinsic quality of the original painted image, how it appears is also shaped by the quality and choices made in how it is printed. There is little question that modern printing technology enables what could objectively be considered to be better replication of the artist’s painting.
But printing of digitized images also enables “juicing up” the images with over-saturation of the colours. Perhaps this is done to better depict an old master painting’s original appearance (before darkening varnish or accumulation of smoke film) but these days I think it is often done to conform to current tastes for vibrant colours. Thus, since printing involves aesthetic choices, perhaps that too should be considered to be a third “art” in the puzzle-making process.
Similarly, the technical execution of the cutting design, also affects the quality of the final puzzle. This seems to be most apparent in laser cutting, where proper adjustments and maintenance of a high-quality cutting machine can minimize the extent to which the cutting intrudes upon the appearance of the image as well as give the pieces a more satisfactory tight fit.
I suppose that in this case we are talking about a craft, rather than an art, but the skills and choices made in executing the cutting design can certainly change the aesthetic experience of assembly. It is an another aspect of puzzle-making that I like to acknowledge when it is particularly well done.
Hi, again, Bill. Your well-put response to what I wrote is very thorough, thanks. In particular, your response has included mention of ". . . another aspect of puzzle-making that I like to acknowledge when it is particularly well done. . . ." That, my friend is what you do and have done again and again since starting your blog—making me aware of one aspect, after another, after another of the craft/art nature of the puzzles you study and collect.
I had a minor epiphany while reading your latest posting about wooden jigsaw puzzles, Bill. I call it a minor one only because it concerns something that should have been obvious to me long before today; namely, the puzzles you assemble, study, and treasure are each two works of art simultaneously.
When I've owned jigsaw puzzles in the past, ones of the more ordinary, cardboard variety, especially ones that built up into images of some famous painting or some especially lovely scene, I've tended to think, upon their completion, something along the lines of "Wow, it's great to see and and recall to mind this masterpiece of a picture—I'll leave it intact awhile before boxing the puzzle up again and returning it to my puzzle shelf." Aside from possibly taking minor notice of the thickness or tight fit of a particular puzzle brand's cardboard, my appreciation of what I'd just assembled was nearly all for its picture.
Well, it has struck me that when you describe at length the delight you can take in the feel of puzzle pieces, the clever design of whimsies, incredible subtleties of puzzle manufacture, etc., etc., that you, Bill have got TWO works of art on your table when you are enjoying one of the wooden puzzles in your collection.
I admire your sensitivity in this regard, Bill. Carry on, Friend. Perhaps, I understood the attraction of your hobby on some level, and did realize that craft was involved; but today, for whatever reason, it suddenly became clearer to me that I ought to think of the folks who make your beloved puzzles, as artists.
By the way, my favourite among the puzzles you reviewed above is Les Vessenots in Auvers, by reason of BOTH Van Gogh's contribution to it AND the contribution of the puzzle-makers. Also, by the way, I rather like two-sided puzzles, myself, though my experiences with them have been limited to doing large cardboard floor-puzzles with my Kindergarten students. If I were still teaching Kindergarten, I might try to buy the six-sided block puzzle from you!
Fondly,
Greg
Thanks, Greg. I definitely think of cutting design as an art, and just like any art form it can be done with varying degrees of technical quality (in accordance with the standards of that art form.) Ideally, the image and the cutting design complement each other in such a way that the experience of assembling the puzzle is greater than the sum of its parts.
And although I hesitate to make a distinction between arts and crafts, each of those is also related to a craft that also shapes the aesthetics of assembly. Besides the intrinsic quality of the original painted image, how it appears is also shaped by the quality and choices made in how it is printed. There is little question that modern printing technology enables what could objectively be considered to be better replication of the artist’s painting.
But printing of digitized images also enables “juicing up” the images with over-saturation of the colours. Perhaps this is done to better depict an old master painting’s original appearance (before darkening varnish or accumulation of smoke film) but these days I think it is often done to conform to current tastes for vibrant colours. Thus, since printing involves aesthetic choices, perhaps that too should be considered to be a third “art” in the puzzle-making process.
Similarly, the technical execution of the cutting design, also affects the quality of the final puzzle. This seems to be most apparent in laser cutting, where proper adjustments and maintenance of a high-quality cutting machine can minimize the extent to which the cutting intrudes upon the appearance of the image as well as give the pieces a more satisfactory tight fit.
I suppose that in this case we are talking about a craft, rather than an art, but the skills and choices made in executing the cutting design can certainly change the aesthetic experience of assembly. It is an another aspect of puzzle-making that I like to acknowledge when it is particularly well done.
Hi, again, Bill. Your well-put response to what I wrote is very thorough, thanks. In particular, your response has included mention of ". . . another aspect of puzzle-making that I like to acknowledge when it is particularly well done. . . ." That, my friend is what you do and have done again and again since starting your blog—making me aware of one aspect, after another, after another of the craft/art nature of the puzzles you study and collect.
Regards,
Greg