Studio Transcript:
Peter Moosebridge: Good evening to all of our viewers out there, and welcome to another installment of Zootopian Zeitgeist. I'm Peter Moosebridge, and with me today we have one of the rising stars of the local art scene. Although he has been a fixture in the Zootopia School of Art for the past decade, it is only with his recent wave of evocative and controversial pieces that he has come into the spotlight. Despite the uproar he has caused there is no denying that his art has captured the public eye with the intensity of the scenes he presents and—
Antonio LeCapra: (laughing)
PM: —a message that is especially important today. Antonio LeCapra.
AL: Thank you, it's wonderful to be here.
PM: And we are glad to have you. Tell me, how long have you been practicing art?
AL: Oh, I got started back in high school when I took a photography course as an elective. (laughing) Because I was too lazy to bother with painting, so you can imagine my disappointment when I learned that even with taking pictures I needed to learn to control light levels, and shudder speed, and about framing, and just a whole mess of things. There was this saying my teacher, Mr. Cueva, had that stuck with me though. First day of class he said there are no rules to art, only concept, imagination, and the courage to present your message to an audience.
PM: That is certainly an inspiring message. I can see why you would remember it.
AL: Indeed.
PM: So you started with photography. The first of your works to draw significant notice was a collage of photos. The Gazelle and—
AL: —and Monica Purrsia one. "Empathy." Yes. Let me tell you, shortly after I released it I wondered if I'd made a horrible mistake. Many mammals were angry about it at the time.
PM: They certainly were!
AL: In fact, I believe one of the Zootopia Times art critics even called the work "wildly reckless".
PM: (chuckling) Still, it certainly got the city's attention. I'm told there is a story behind this, about how it was the result of an accident?
AL: There is, actually, although I prefer to call it a happy mistake. The whole shoot was sort of thrown together at the last moment after I had worked with both Gazelle and Purrsia for some lingerie ads. This was just after the second Savage Mammal crisis and I had the idea of taking some pictures of predators and prey together as sort of a…well…a social statement you could say.
PM: Well, you most certainly made a statement.
AL: Yes, although it wasn't quite the one I intended. When that overhead light crashed into the stage just to the right of Gazelle—we were extremely lucky because just a bit over and it might have crushed her—I just happened to catch a picture of the aftermath while both of my models were jumping away from the sound. Of course I was using a modern digital camera, so rather than a single image it captures thirty or so over the course of about a second, which allows the photographer to select the best one or combine them to compose the exact image he pictured in his mind.
PM: So this was the result of a lot of luck on many counts?
AL: Quite so. Of course we immediately stopped the photo shoot after the accident and neither model was comfortable coming back. Completely understandable. But I already had those pictures, and my memories, and something struck me. Both ladies had exactly the same reaction: fear. Granted I presume Gazelle perhaps felt it a bit more keenly since she was nearly crushed, but still. Fear and surprise was written clear on both of them.
And for some reason I was blessed with inspiration. I remembered that one photo that made it into the newspaper following the Founder's Day disaster. The one with the fox and bunny cops.
PM: Ah, yeah. There was a bit of murmuring about that at the time, although of course the city had bigger worries on their minds. Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde I believe. That was before they made their relationship public, if I recall.
AL: Honestly I wouldn't know. (laughing) And I just had this insight that they—Gazelle and Purrsia—were the same. In that moment they were identical in every way that mattered, and I expect that as a result of the near miss they both now share a connection that I can only imagine.
PM: Which is the core of your message, is it not? That everyone is the same.
AL: (thoughtfully) Essentially? Yes. Although I would say it is more nuanced than such a naively blanket declaration.
PM: Oh? Would you care to elaborate?
AL: So long as you don't mind if I transform into an overly pretentious artist for a moment. (laughing)
PM: (laughing)
AL: I'll take that as an okay. The thing is that I hear many mammals reducing my message to "everyone is the same" and as admirable as I find the notion it actually isn't true. I don't think anyone can really argue that everyone is the same with a straight face. Just take us. We're both prey, But you're a moose and I'm a goat. You are clearly larger than I am, and your antlers are much more impressive than my horns. More to the point, if I happened to be a cheetah—for instance—those differences would be even more apparent. I'd have spots and claws and sharper teeth. We'd eat different things.
However even if we were both goats there would be differences. We'd have different interests and dreams. We would probably like and hate different things. We would have taken different paths during our lives, so to say that we would be the same wouldn't just be naive. It could even be considered offensive. In fact, you'll probably notice that many slurs you hear today come from exactly that very angle.
PM: Yes, I think everyone can understand that point. I certainly never considered getting into art, and from the sound of it you never thought about getting into media.
AL: Exactly.
PM: How would you describe your philosophy then?
AL: You see, the thing is that perhaps we look different, and have different interests, and different dreams, but most of that is fairly superficial. I happen to enjoy a nice cabbage salad, but I doubt I would be substantially different if I favored lettuce instead. These details are interesting, but they cover up what matters: the core of a being. That is where my interest lies, and what I try to capture. It is very difficult to do, as it is so ephemeral. It only reveals itself for fleeting moments.
PM: And these fleeting moments are what you attempt to capture?
AL: Yes. Yes. And I believe that is what I discovered in my Gazelle/Purrsia collage. Two mammals—similar in some respects, but different in others—reacting to the same event in the same way at the same time. Shock. Fear. Very intense. Powerful. Even primal, I would say. All because an unexpected event cut through to who they were at the most basic level.
PM: I see. Of course I'm sure you're aware that many of your critics say that you only deal in terror.
AL: (snorting) Yes, well, I've found that when someone dislikes your message they grasp at any convenient reason to tear it down.
PM: True enough, however I must admit I can see their concern. There is no denying that fear and terror are central to all of your current works.
AL: Yes, however that is mostly a matter of accessibility and ease.
PM: Oh?
AL: Certainly. In truth, any sufficiently intense emotional experience would serve my needs. Love. Joy. Surprise. Shock. Disgust. Fear just happens to be especially easy to elicit. I also believe it happens to be easy to identify with. At some point in every mammal's life they are bound to experience a deep sense of terror, so grounding my art in that particular emotion allows them to more easily sympathize with the subject.
PM: It definitely seems to be working, doesn't it?
AL: (chuckling) Is that an oblique reference to the informal "movement" that has been kicked off with other artists trying their hand at capturing similar scenes?
PM: It was indeed. In fact, you have a gallery opening up in the coming days, do you not?
AL: Yes. Am I allowed to—
PM: Go ahead. Go ahead.
AL: Thank you. A collection of works by a number of artists will be available for public viewing at the University's Hall of the Arts in the coming weeks. I believe it opens its doors beginning next Wednesday? In any case, I know some of the artists, and they are all exceptionally talented. I cannot wait to see what they have to share. A number of them follow the themes I have been exploring, but for my so-called critics I know that others have attempted to capture other moments of intense emotion. The fee is quite minimal, just fifteen a head. Seniors get half price and children under twelve are admitted free of charge with an adult. If you're a fan of modern art and wish to support Zootopia's finest artists, than I implore you to see what we have to share.
After turning Brisa's apartment over to the CSI's so it could be processed more throughly, Judy and Nick tried visiting several locations the fruit bat frequented. Nick had been skeptical that they would learn anything by doing so; however, he had agreed they didn't have much to lose by poking around her favorite "hang outs". Unfortunately the fox's instincts proved to be correct in this instance. They were able to turn up a fair number of mammals Brisa had made acquaintances with, but none knew the bat particularly well.
It seemed that although no mammal had anything negative to say about Brisa that she didn't have many real friends either.
Then they were notified that the bat had finally woken up, so it was back to the hospital. Nick grew increasingly anxious during the drive over, and completely lost his nerve the moment they pulled in. Considering what he'd told her after the last time they'd seen Brisa, Judy didn't have much trouble guessing what was bothering him. His request to wait in the cruiser hardly came as a surprise, so she found herself heading up to the bat's room by herself.
Only to be stopped by a nurse before she could go into the room. "Excuse me, officer? The doctor doesn't want anyone going in there without permission."
Judy blinked, then turned to face the sheep. "Really? Sorry, I wasn't told," she said, giving her ears a slight apologetic dip as she looked up and down the hall. "Where do I go to do that?"
"Um…well the thing is the bat's doctor left about half an hour ago to see a patient at our other facility, so I'm afraid you can't right now," the sheep said. "If you like I can try contacting him, but there's no guarantee he'll answer."
She gave her head a slight shake and sighed. "No, it is fine. We just heard that Brisa was awake, and thought we would be able to interview her. We can always come back later."
At that the sheep ooooh-ed and bit his lip. "That might be a little difficult."
"Really? Is there something wrong?"
"Not exactly, considering, but she's still intubated," the nurse explained. "Makes it impossible to speak. Normally we could just give her a notepad and pen, but with how badly her limbs are hurt… Well, basically all she can do right now is nod."
That certainly made things more difficult. Judy puffed her cheeks out as she exhaled, then took a deep breath.
"I don't suppose you know when she'll be able to answer questions?"
"Not exactly. Intubation is really unpleasant, so we try to take people off as soon as it is safe. Can tell you that her condition will be reevaluated every day, but that is about it." The sheep's head bobbed slightly as he spoke, then his ears shot up. "Oh, but we can certainly let the ZPD know when we are about to do it."
"Could you? We would really appreciate it," Judy said, brightening slightly. "Will she really be able to speak to us that quickly?"
"So long as you are patient and don't expect her to say too much, sure. Of course her doctor will need to be present, to make sure she isn't being stressed too much."
Judy nodded her understanding. "In that case, there is one last thing I wanted to speak to you about."
"That sounds serious," the sheep nurse said. "What's up?"
"Before you let any officer conduct an interview, could you please verify their credentials with the ZPD?" Judy asked. "Also, if an officer tries to get her transfered, immediately contact Precinct One to make sure the request is authentic?"
The sheep blinked twice. "Ah, yeah, I can note that on her chart and make sure everyone knows. Is something going on?"
"Just that we have reason to believe that someone posing as an officer may try to gain access to Brisa," Judy explained seriously. "He's a snow leopard. Apparently he was calling himself Detective Claws, or Detective Clawson, or some variant of that."
"I'll spread the word," the sheep said, "but I think you should have the ZPD make an official request if you want to be sure. That'll make sure management gets involved, otherwise we aren't allowed to do all that much."
Judy resisted the urge to sigh, forcing herself to appreciate that the sheep was trying to cooperate even as she wondered why things were always set up so that normal mammals weren't permitted to help. "In that case, I'll talk to the chief. Thank you very much."
Before leaving, she stopped by Brisa's room to peek through the window just to be sure everything was okay. Inside she could hear the machinery softly beeping and hissing as it helped the injured bat breath, but when she looked in she found that Brisa's eyes were opened and her head turned toward the window. Somehow, despite looking completely miserable, the young lady managed to look alert as well. Or maybe that was just a side effect of the painkillers the doctors surely had her on.
Judy gave the bat a friendly smile, followed by a quick wave before she hurried back to the cruiser so she could share the good news with Nick. To her surprise, she found him pacing in the parking lot with his nose buried in the notebook that contained all of Brisa's contacts. Given how anxious this visit had made him she'd expected to find him waiting quietly in the vehicle.
"I thought you were going to wait in the car."
Nick looked up, his ears dipping back for just a second. "I got restless," he admitted. "Felt like I should do something, so I thought I'd give the notebook another go. Walking helps me think sometimes."
"Sure you weren't just trying to distract yourself?" she teased lightly, fishing the keys out of her pocket before going up onto her toes to unlock the door. "You know, there isn't anything wrong with feeling upset. It isn't like you can help having emotions."
"I know," he sighed, then jumped into the passenger's side.
Judy watched him buckle up, then smiled as she followed suit. "Brisa is awake though, or she was when I peeked in. The doctors don't want anyone bothering her yet, but she actually seemed fairly alert."
"She's pretty tough," Nick said, then sighed as she pulled out. "I should have gone in with you, I just…"
Judy peeked back in his direction and bit her lip. "There is always next time."
"Yeah," he agreed dully, looking out the window. "Always a next time. Until there isn't."
"Do you want me to turn back? There is still time for you to check on her."
At that Nick hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm not sure I can. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up."
For a moment she considered suggesting that since Brisa seemed to be doing better maybe the scent wouldn't be quite so intense now, but in truth she would only be guessing. Her nose wasn't as sensitive as Nick's, and she hadn't thought to ask anyone. She bit her lip again and considered asking one of the precinct's wolves if they would mind checking on that for her, then quickly decided against it. With how reluctant Nick had been to even tell her about it she doubted he would be comfortable with getting anyone else involved.
"So you decided to distract yourself by looking at her contacts again?" she asked, hoping to distract him from his worries. "I thought you said we'd need her help to find out anything. Did you change your mind?"
Nick perked his ears slightly and looked her way, then gave her a small smile. "Not exactly. But I figured that since I know her I might be able to figure guess what some of the entries are. Plus there are phone numbers, and I realized I might recognize a few of them."
"Did you?"
"There were a few phone numbers I know, but they're mostly bit players," Nick said, then gave his head a slight shake. "Unless I can find them in the ZPD database I probably shouldn't be handing 'em over. I doubt they are involved in any case. Something like this doesn't seem like any of them.
"I think I might have figured out who a few of the names refer to, though. There is a Mr. B. I'm willing to put money on that being Mr. Big. A few others I have a pretty good idea of who they might be. There are a lot that I'm just clueless about though."
"Well, it's a start at least," Judy said, then gave her partner an optimistic smile. "Maybe you'll figure out a few more if you keep working at it."
"Maybe, but we should probably let the CSI's have a go at it first," Nick agreed. "Who knows what's in their databases."
She nodded, then gave him a sideways look when they reached the next stoplight. "So…are you in her book as well?"
The question earned her a laugh. "I can neither confirm nor deny my presence in Brisa's notebook."
"But you did look," Judy pressed, grinning.
"I did."
"So, are you?" she asked again.
"Sweetheart?" Nick began as he leaned closer. "I know exactly what you're trying to do, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it. If we weren't on duty I'd give you a kiss."