This paper offers a contextualization of my art practice, within particular trends in contemporary art and its discourse. It traces an expressed interest in networked objects, and the indeterminacy of meaning in art; from researched examples and texts, through specific expressions of these ideas in my thesis art exhibition. The paper then outlines key areas of practical interest to the experimental viability of my art practice. The paper goes on to explore the relationships between indeterminacy, experimentation, and creativity in the arts; within the context of an original thought experiment that draws an analogy between topics in physics and the human mind. Non-rational art ideas are lauded for their uniquely explorative potential within this conjectural model. Optimism, and a will to think experimentally, are offered as the abiding principles of my art practice; as well as being universal tools that all human beings can depend upon.

This paper thoroughly examines the production of the thesis film, Covered. Writing, production design, cinematography, editing, sound, technology, workflow, and direction are discussed with attention to how each uniquely contributed to the story. In an effort to objectively critique the finished film, feedback from test audiences will be examined.

In my research into interdisciplinary choreographic processes, I found there to be a lacking representation of recent scholarship dedicated to exploring the relationship between literature and dance. As a dance theatre choreographer who often utilizes textual sources as impetuses for artistic creation, I have employed methods of traditional dramaturgy in my practice and, in seeking scholarship on this subject, have noted a need for clear examples of dance dramaturgy in practice. In this thesis study, I employed methods from literary studies and dramaturgy in the process of adapting a work of short fiction by Kurt Vonnegut for the stage. I documented my process and have structured the information for the benefit of those who may read it. The artistic product of this research was presented to an audience in direct relation to its literary source. At the conclusion of this research, I posit that dance can function as literary criticism.

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No description available.

This report tracks the process of researching, developing, casting, directing and editing BORDERLINE, an hour-long documentary film. The film was produced as my graduate thesis film in the department of Radio-Television-Film at the University of Texas at Austin in partial fulfillment of a Masters of Fine Arts in Film Production. The film aims to get inside the psyche of Regina V, a woman living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). The appeal of filming someone with this diagnosis was due to a common experience of those who diagnostically qualify: extreme emotional pain. Hence, in order to unravel the riddle of Borderline, one must understand the architecture of suffering, suffering as process, as action, an action I wanted to capture and detail. 80% of this population attempt suicide, 10% succeed. Approximately 2% of the US population meet criteria for BPD, and few practitioners have the skill or desire to treat it. As if mental “illness” were not already stigmatized, this diagnosis carries the most stigma within the mental health profession, many practitioners speaking in derogatory ways about those who diagnostically qualify. In essence, the hands that should feed and help those so afflicted are the very hands that shoo them away. Because Borderline is a diagnosis that points directly to an individual’s attachment issues and interpersonal dysregulation, I anticipated interpersonal challenges would emerge between me and the film’s main subject, Regina. I hoped that the complex dynamics within our relationship, if properly maneuvered, would translate to affects Regina expressed on camera and that these quick shifting affects would generate an experience for the audience that might jar their emotional space, offer a small taste of how Regina lives daily, an increased understanding of what generates emotional pain, and maybe inspire a shard of empathy, if not curiosity, for people who behave badly. If nothing else, film offers the opportunity to change a person’s feelings, on a minute-by-minute, scene-by-scene, shot-by-shot, blink-by-blink basis, such that we become hyper conscious of the blow-by blow emotional shifts that life events generate. With this film, I hope to take people on an emotional trip. / text

Image of Jason Strickler's MFA exhibition at Claremont Graduate Institute's East Gallery or Peggy Phelps Gallery.

I’m interested in writing stories that make me as author disappear. A little. I’d like for my stories to unravel themselves while I sit just barely visible, maybe on a porch across the street. I’m also interested in playing with unusual phrases and syntax to achieve authentic voice in my stories. This sets up a conflict because while I want to develop small, fairly simple stories, I also value some language trickery, which might come off as authorial. I want nuanced voices that don’t feel editorialized. I want the stories to be authentic in an off-putting way. My biggest challenge has been monkeying with language in ways I find interesting while still maintaining a cool distance. It feels like training a service dog without getting sentimental. I like these problems though. I like the tiptoe-ing. My goal is to be able to drop readers in the middle of a situation: childhood, a factory, the grieving process, and carry them through it, without them knowing I’m there, without having to rely on explanations of characters’ thoughts, their motives. I am drawn to stories with little exposition. As a reader, I like making my discoveries through characters, how they navigate the world. I like to read stories that are revelatory in an interesting way – without having to be told outright how a life got so raw, or why lying can be the greatest relief, or how come it’s heartbreaking to see up close how much makeup a woman wears. I’ve heard this advice over the years: “Write what you know.” I’ve tried this with dull results. I’ve decided that I disagree. I’m working to write more stories about lives, jobs, concepts, illnesses, joys and sadnesses that I don’t know. I like trying on the other: a housewife, a man, a teen, a liar, someone forgotten. By writing what I don’t know, I want to stir up the reader, deliver something familiar yet jarring.

Road Stories is a collection of three novellas that explore the pull, allure, sanctuary, serendipity, and adventure of life on the open road. The novellas examine how for some, the road holds the promise of a new day, an improved life, a better opportunity, or a deeper love; while for others, it is nothing more than an assortment of jumbled blue lines on a map. In Tierra del Fuego, a man takes to the road to figure out how to deal with the grief and sense of betrayal he feels following the death of his wife. Lake of the Falls involves a decades-long dispute between a father and son who take to the road and come to realize that home is not always where you live. In Back on the Road, three recent college graduates set off on a road trip inspired by Kerouac's On the Road to celebrate the end of their college years and lament the imminent approach of adulthood, only to learn that their lives are soon going to take vastly different paths.

Mercury is a collection of short stories based in the fictional town of Mercury, Georgia. Set over the course of several decades, the stories trace the events that changed individuals, families, and a whole community for decades. Loosely based on the author’s real-life family history, the stories, both humorous and heartbreaking, show characters caught between the past and the present and searching for a way forward. A girl who makes friends with a ghost, a woman who can’t help but run from crying babies, a man forced to face the town’s darkest side—these and other characters respond in surprising ways to circumstances that are both ordinary and extraordinary. Most of the stories in the collection are linked, showing the interconnectedness of the lives in this small town. The pieces work together to present a larger narrative of how the characters and the town struggle to change, survive, hope, and face the future.