The story so far ...
Reserected transcript of the old sites blog
…eye of the beholder
I guess this is not really a post, more – unformed thoughts, revolving around beauty and essentially what moves us or the nature of art. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) said that three things are needed if beauty is to be achieved: Wholeness, harmony and radiance. Aquinas linked beauty with truth, and held that faith and reason constitute two harmonious realms in which the truths of the heart (faith) complement those of the mind (reason).“Art, then, is the human dispostion of sensible or intellible matter for an esthetic end. This esthetic end will be served if the matter is arranged satisfyingly. Beauty will be achieved…. Ad pulcritudinem tria requiruntur integritas, consonantia, claritas.”“If I were to ask first whether things are beautiful because they give pleasure, or give pleasure because they are beautiful, I have no doubt that I will be given the answer that they give pleasure because they are beautiful.”Augustine, Quoted by Umberto Eco, The Aesthetics of Thomas Aquinas, p49.My friend was paraphrasing Plato’s distrust of the mimetic arts, Which led me to an interesting article by David Misialowski – The roots of modern art“Of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing can ever be made,” Immanuel KantAlso my wife gave me a brilliant book that I’ve started reading which I recommend to all in-sundry; Art & Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland. Its subtitled observations on the perils (and rewards) of artmaking.
Recurrent themes
I think fundamentally most people have something to say which they want to communicate on some level. Sometimes it may be specific, or maybe something more fuzzy; a feeling, or theme or simply the way we see the world – a particular way of seeing. Sometimes it’s tailored for a specific audience and yet other times it may be about self enquiry. So there are lots of reasons I guess – (I’ve been brewing on this for a little while). What makes someone get up one day and want to create something? What is it that fuels this desire/compulsion, and would it still be there if we had not eaten for a week? I have in mind Frank Lloyd Wright’s (1867 – 1959) quote ; “Art for art’s sake is a philosophy of the well-fed.” It also brings to mind Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs .
I’m prompted to write (moved to action) after a discussion in the staff room. Which was; …whether we can see hardship/damage/early trauma - reflected in artwork. Even in something as supposedly ’neutral’ as a photograph. It is sometimes subtle. But there is a marked difference. Something stands out as different or ‘other’ in opposition to those who have not had to face those darker aspects of life. At the very least I suppose there is, something to say, fueled by a different set of experience/stimuli. Perhaps we are straying into the realm of art therapy. (incidentally; one of my former colleagues didn’t believe in it – she made a hard division between art and health/therapy).
All of us in that small airless room had similar events in our past, and maybe there was a sense of Freudian melancholia. Anger at the loss of something on a subconscious level (that can also turn inward). That there was perhaps a healthy narcasism in those who hadn’t been affected. That this is in some way might be a necessary component. New Scientist ‘A slow mind may nurture more creative ideas’ issue 2753, 30 march 2010 by Linda Geddes. I’ve also heard creativity likened to play, and play is essential and integral to our development. I also wonder whether there is an element of restructuring / reinventing an alternate version of reality/events/perception/denial/delusion.
We are story telling creatures that use our implicit sense of narrative to make sense of the world (and our role/s in it). Mapping. Perception. I am sure I have even read that there is evidence that we have evolved a predisposition for; myth, ritual, sacred spaces and supernatural agents. (Article suggesting religeon is a product of evolution- New Scientist by Ewan Callaway) That we are hardwired for these themes, add to that a fragile sense of mortality; sex, death and the human condition. The observed and imagined the internal and external worlds. I derive my inspiration from the former, the internal. It is the only thing I feel qualified to comment on.
Below are a few movies that have touched my psyche recently and left me a slightly different person. I dont know why they are so dark, maybe its my disposition toward the melancholic.
n.b. I would genuinely recommend people see these films as I greatly enjoyed them, but I realise I don’t have explicit permission to use these images so if any related party wants me to remove them please contact me.La Reine Margot , Let the right one in , Confessions , Onegin
Creative emptiness – my understanding of the term is to not to hold preconceptions, to occupy the moment in a state of emptinessPhenomenological encounterIntuition and instinct. I’ll add more when i can form sentences again…
Sour Milk
The milk has’ gone off’ in my tea, well I’m still drinking it…“Conceive form in depth. Clearly indicate the dominant planes. Imagine forms as directed towards you; all life surges from a centre, expands from within outwards. In drawing, observe relief, not outline. The relief determines the contour. The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live. Be a man before being an artist!” Auguste Rodin (1840-1917)I have always loved that quote. I find Rodin’s insistence on life before art – grounding. After all we need stimulus / experience, before we can construct meaningful comment. There is also an insistence on passion, “to be moved“. Which I believe to be the key to meaningful communication and expression. It has to be about something you care about. As simple as that. However, when I look around, there is so much apathy prevalent… It is dangerous, better to be strongly for or against, than ambivalent.I have recently received feedback from a good friend (mad, bad, bendy ***) who had just been (cohersed) into reading the blog… and his immediate response was; “its too heavy.” “It misses the lateral asides and left of center thinking” and weirdly “humour” of our face to face communicaes. Well this is it, he’s nailed it, I have yet to find my voice. But then that’s difficult, Who am I talking to? Also I feel like I have one hand tied behind my back. If I write totally from the heart I’m bound to end up getting sued. I want to post pictures to illustrate points and I see them everywhere looking at others blogs but, knowing a little about copyright, I’m left in a quandary, do I need permissions for old pictures over 50 yrs old? Ive been trying to find out where we stand…I can’t see how everyone else goes about it. (Unless no one cares anymore). However below is a really helpful page I did come across on copyright information from University College London Link.
By the pricking of my thumbs...
My intention is to adapt, tweek and grow this post. To let it take an organic evolution, and see not only what it may become, but how it changes along the way. I am reminded of Paul Valery’s quote; “a poem is never finished, only abandoned”. Likewise I don’t think many of the other posts are safe – or static…
Like fingers reaching to the sky, trunks to branch to twig. I know not the sound of your name, too long now in the coming. I’ll keep on standing in splendid isolation…a veritable rock; puffed out and quaking. Played out and shaking. Sold out and making …shadows.…and where were you? …and there’s the ‘rub’- stepped out in full. Played out. Re-run. An infinite sea, distilled into this needle’s eye…salt the wound…tomorrow my tears are all but spent, as we play out what must be. One step, one eye, salt water, (drinking).There is no clarity, where once such tender a heart; took a bullet, a slap in the face, punch to the groin – murder most foul. My breath runs cold. I cannot breathe….but there it is again. Starring at the sun, alight my eyes on all that is not and ne’er will be. A full darkness is terrible to behold (to the small). In that dark we are not alone, you and I. A kind of truth. (His/her/its) breath in my ear.How now when my heart is dancing, nonsense, no-sense, no rhyme or reason.Your ‘hear and now’ is my; ‘has been’.Tangled thoughts trip me. My words are not so minty fresh. Until bitterness blew into my soul we stood shoulder to shoulder you and I. I know the curve of your lip, the tilt of your hip and words of silky honey.But it calls to me on the wind. Through feeling, I am undone. I do not dare. For in the question I would loose all…and so it is. In showing you I loose myself. I will not quantify what has no name. I decline to answer.
Multiplicity
Some times inspiration comes in strange guises. I saw Kate Tempest a couple of nights ago on channel 4?s ‘Random Acts’ performing Parables (http://randomacts.channel4.com/#view/176) and I was moved by it. I love music and am not really fussy as to what genre it is as long as there is real emotion (actually that is kinda half true, but ill leave that for another post ) -something real as opposed to the superficial, fake and mundane / apathetic. There is something raw and heartfelt in Kate’s performance. It was not so long ago that I was talking about the differences between creative disciplines; the spoken word/ performance/ visual. There is a Buddhist proverb; “when the student is ready, the teacher will appear” – the teacher needn’t be a person it could be an experience for example. Its about becoming receptive to what is already there. Inspiration comes in all forms. I have always found poetry / lyrics a powerful source. In Particular I keep on returning to Ted Hughes and Yehuda Amichai. I love Hughes; Crow’s anthology in particular. There’s an interesting interview on youtube(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXYMNDu-qxo) of hughes explaining the themes in crow. Also “inside the apple” by Amichai…
I was lucky enough to have been taught by a formidable/inspirational sculptor; Anne-Marie Watkins (when I was at Art school in Farnham 1993-6) and she told us “when in doubt do six”. Ive been telling my students ever since. As blocks to creativity can really shut down a practice. Where the rule of six opens up possibilities and introduces an economy of time, if for example you are priming a canvas it doesn’t take much longer to prime five more…opening up possibility rather than closing down.
I still count myself as fairly new to the whole blogging thing, although I have always kept a diary/ journal/ commonplace book/ sketch book. But I am reminded of a quote (but will have to paraphrase as I cant remember it verbatim or for that matter who said it) ” …..the problem with writing things down is that other people can read it”. Hmm, what do i mean by that? I’ve received a few comments thanking me for a good resource. Whilst that’s a nice compliment, its not really my intention and I don’t want the responsibility of setting it up as such. I’ve had to write academic essays as a Fine Art lecturer and would much prefer this to be a place to ruminate and air a few thoughts, however nonsensical, if the mood so takes me. Quite interesting opposed to academically astute. In fact I do have a keen interest in automatic writing and stream of consciousness…and I know that will not make much logical sense. The blogs main purpose is to compliment the artwork, help people find a way in, and if along the way it makes a couple of people smile/engage/inform/challenge/think then all the better.
Mutterings
Its been a while, and I find as more time slips between entries it perhaps gets a little harder. I guess its inertia, loss of momentum or more likely a loss of clarity. On the one hand I have so much to say, but on the other very seldom the lucidity to construct something worthwhile. Strangely I have this running dialogue in my head, and sometimes loose track as to what has gone into the blog. Its amazing how putting off something that you know you ought to do begins to get so difficult. Fear anxiety self defeating mentality low self worth procrastination. That’s not even a sentence but you know what I mean.
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.” Dune, Frank HerbertThere are buzz words that I can ‘see’, elusive flavours bouncing on my tongue – ‘silence’ ‘solitude’ and ‘reflection’. In the face of, and direct contrast too so much of what is being ‘aimed’ ‘launched’ and ‘shot’ at us from all directions. Its been a long while since I have felt that stillness.
< Deep Breath>
I had a conversation recently with a colleague and it occurred to me I use so little of my sensory world – my discipline has always been merely visual (and maybe a little bit tactile when I sculpt). But he comes from a writing and performance background something which is very alien to me. I was intrigued as to how he forms scripts; can he see the characters? is he in some way a omnipotent puppeteer watching their interactions a la ‘Sims’. I find the whole creative process fascinating. Painting with words, their rhythm and sound. How do they interact, associate, reflect with that metronome in our chests. Similarly the directness of dance and physicality of it all.
I am reminded of a book The writings of the disaster by Maurice Blanchot which I remember first encountering when I was 16. It was profound and deep but at the same time nonsensical. The disaster is never named, and all the time we are left guessing. I like the idea of something having to be worked for… that inevitably we bring our own readings. Sadly there was another book but unfortunately I cant remember the author or title, that a student once showed me, which was extremely abstract. Sometimes the page would be about the pattern the text made other times it would diminish etc. Ill try and track it down and link to it if i find it, its well worth a look. Ive made books of glass, steel wood etc i like the idea of a book as a vessel that it is an icon. Ive also welded them shut with steel plates…and written dip pen passages of black ink on black paper…knowledge and power.
I feel good about this year and am enthused about hand process again. Don’t get me wrong I love photography and computer wizardry; the kind of spontaneity it offers, associations and implications et al. But it doesn’t quite satisfy in the same way. So part of my new years resolutions is to get back to hand process, in particular i’d like to get back into printmaking; intaglio and lithography.
The dark night of the soul
I wanted to write something about inspiration and perhaps talk about the sources and connective themes but I found myself getting sucked into a singular line of thought which is not quite in focus, not quite close enough to catch, evasive, standing on the periphery, yet tugging at me.
So I started with a trawl through wiki, as you do, where I read Carl Jung’s description of the shadow, “as being everything the conscious personality experiences as negative” about the self. Jung took inspiration from alchemical literature and iconography. (I found this a strange coincidence since I had just been looking at the monad and its relationship with alchemical symbols).
The “black work” of the alchemists the nigredo. ‘confrontation with the shadow produces at first a dead balance, a standstill that hampers moral decisions and makes convictions ineffective or even impossible…nigredo, tenebrositas, chaos, melancholia’. Here is ‘the darkest time, the time of despair, disillusionment, envious attacks; the time when Eros and Superego are at daggers drawn, and there seems no way forward…nigredo, the blackening’. Only subsequently would come ‘an enantiodromia: the nigredo gives way to the albedo…the ever deepening descent into the unconscious suddenly becomes illumination from above.” wiki link
I found instantly I could relate to this. Which in turn reminded me of the 16th century poem by St John of the cross.
The Dark Night Of The Soulhttp://poemsintranslation.blogspot.com/2009/09/saint-john-of-cross-dark-night-of-soul.html
Whilst I acknowledge the religious nature of the poem I think his description of a transcendental experience is beautiful and valid and need not be confined to dogmatic interptretation. I think it also relevent that there is a feeling of total abandonment, but also that elusive transformation of the base metal into gold…. that out of darkness something new is tempered.
“Remember, when a soul sails out on that unmarked sea called Madness they have gained release, much greater than your loss –and more important. Though the need which brought it cannot well be known by those who have not felt it. For what the sane call `ruin’ — because they do not know — those who have experienced what I am speaking of, know the wild hysteria of Madness means salvation. Release. Escape. Salvation from a much greater pain than the stark pain of Madness. Escape — from which could not be endured. And that is why the Madness came. Deliverance; pure, simple, deliverance. . . . Nothing will stay it — there is nothing that can hold it; nothing with the power to deter it when it sweeps out to pursue its destiny through the dim caverns of itself. . . .I have felt it sweep me and take me — where — I do not know (all the way through Hell, and far, on the other side; and give me keener sense of feeling that the full edge of reason has) – still, I have no way of telling about the things experienced on that weird journey.” Lara Peterson ‘These Are My Sisters’ (1952)
That darkness I have always felt accutely. Whether it has been physical, spiritual or mentally manifest. I thought the Lara Peterson quote was so eloquent and beautifully put. Darkness has many faces.
No time like the present
Between jobs again so I have no excuse now to push on and get the site sorted. Ive decided on a bigger picture file size as standard (around 1024 pixels) as ive read that its more web friendly. I was also undecided as people have been saying to me what if people steal it or print it out? But i guess at least right now I’m thinking its better to be able to see a big detailed version and ultimately I still have the high resolution shots (as the ones posted are only 72 dpi). I’d be interested if anyone has thoughts on this…
On another note, I was bowled over by a post by Austin Kleon and thought I’d post a link. “How to steal like an artist” kudos to him for writting it.
Less is more?
Been trying to sort through a huge back log of images, in some cases unearthing them, literally. Some haven’t seen the light of day for nearly 20 years. I feel immediately torn like coming across aspects of myself i’d forgotten… catching yourself in a mirror, and thinking who is that ?….some are old friends and occasionally there are ones ‘I think oh dear what was i thinking..’ But its kind of good to have a chuck out and hopefully there will be a few pieces to fill in a couple of representational holes. But on the other hand I don’t want to fill this site with old stuff and I’m fully aware I can be overly sentimental. I guess sometimes what you leave out is more important. I can already feel conscious levels of censorship, but then unlike some of my earlier projects this is not about the essential nature of truth/openness/honesty or impulse/instinct this is perhaps just a window looking in, in that case it doesn’t need the rest.
Fashionista…
Apologies for not posting for a while, been busy putting my wife’s site together and creating content or at least attempting to www.AnneBarclay.com to judge the results for yourself.
Ramblings…
There’s something reassuring about late night thoughts when in that zero hour everything seems clearer. In my current state of mind I’m inclined to let them wander … tiptoe through my subconscious, groping blindly around in the dark. In my current capacity I am required to stare fixedly at a computer screen for 9 hours a day, which if my mind could wander would not in itself be so bad (apart from the … tears, the sore eyes that is) but worst luck, awareness and cognition are also apparently required. I need to change something. I find myself once again a round peg in a square hole. I have inadvertently become a supporting character in the story of my own life. I am forced to deal with hard logic, not the fluid vaguarities of creative impulse or that familiar tug in the stomach of intuition. I used to joke to friends that I spent my degree learning how not to think. Intuition and instinct or listening to the whispers on the wind, although there is another aspect. That in order to attach meaning and therefore ‘move’ a piece on…(otherwise there can be no development) it had to be deciphered, decoded, read into, sometimes this was apparent and literal but in other instances it has taken years to second guess the forces at work, and perhaps what the actual piece was about. So there was cognition and a healthy dose of psychology and other ‘ology reading and application. It brings to mind Descarte’s “Cogito ergo sum” and the primacy of reason. Rationalism, empirical thought. But this stands in opposition…and of course meaning can change and the creative act itself moves steadily further away along with its unique set of contextual packaging…
“I think where I am not, therefore I am where I do not think.” Lacan
Eight Strangers
I recently attended an interview for an Art role where all the candidates were grouped together and amongst the tours, tasks and selective procedures we got to talk amongst ourselves about our own practices and the nature of Art education. Eight strangers that someone had shortlisted. Eight people that could potentially all bring somthing to the role. Amongst them were a newly qualified teacher, an Art gallery education officer, a studio coordinator, and a former student. I felt slightly uncomfortable about being counted, as I had received a job offer only the day before, so was presented with a life choice. Should I break with the education roles and embrace the commercial? Both have transferable skills and specific advantages and disadvantages for my own work. I have always strived to find some aspect that can feed my practice. I also realised as we chat that the education roles are all facing huge challenges. Specifically H.E. where we wait to see what impact the fees will have on uptake and therefore the level of provision an institution is able to offer, be it staff, materials or facilities. I also realised I had lived this and had previously gotten burned, am I not mad to consider going back? But then we talked and I new not whether it was probability, chance or fate that was at work weaving these ideas, these exchanges.
It all can’t be true?
I had decided to work on the body continuing my dissertation theme of; “Images of Gender in 20thCentury Photography”. I was still concerned with this idea of truth. However I also acutely felt that I could not be both in front of the camera and behind it. Fortunately one of my friends at a neighbouring art school was also working on the body theme and so we swapped. To begin with I was interested in the idea of a body as a vehicle, the corporeal, a shell. Looking back at those images now they were very often decapitated with the head out of shot or obscured by shadow. Others saw the shots and volunteered to help, I think this was assisted by the anonymous nature of those early shoots. As I began reading round the subject I think there was an idea that the body could be more than just male or female that there might be a way of showing that, that very physicality beyond labels. However it also rapidly became apparent that in the reaction to the photographs that there were issues of desire and sexuality which I think Ihad become a little desensatized to. I like the way a photograph on the one hand depicts what most of us would read as ‘real’ but also on the other hand is only a chemical representation. It offers a version, a 2d snapshot of what was a 4d situation it is styalised and constructed and is perfect for the concept of desire. To seem obtainable, but actually is not, is removed and actually does not exist.The next stage was prompted by the realisation that I was interested in more than the body I wanted to capture something of the person. Unguarded, truthful, unself conscious.
“Truth to materials”
…was the maxim drummed into us early on. “It is what it is, it doesn’t need to be anything else”, and back in the days of studying sculpture for me that firmly grounded us. I have since been told by friends that Maori craftsman will not touch the material unless they feel they can improve upon it. whether this is indeed true or not i do not know but i love the idea and the integrity.
About 17 years ago I was in the second year of a fine art degree and the sculpture studios were closed for refurbishment. So i thought I’d attempt the next assignment using photography (after all “the camera never lies”- I’m not sure i fully believed this then either but i was content that it was slightly objectified mechanical process) with what I thought was a simple premise… how do people see me? How can I represent myself? who am I? I didn’t realise it then that these were indeed fairly fundamental questions. If you repeat a word over and over in quick succession it begins to break its association with its meaning. The same too can be said for asking a question over and over. Perhaps you are sure to begin with of the answer, but the more you ask it, the more it effectively breaks down the certainty of the answer. By asking who am I? I began to deconstruct myself. Indeed by examining the question closer we find we are in effect unable to answer, as it may well be a question of perspective, in that manner it is similar to when Alan Davies tried to answer the question “how long is a piece of string”( www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00p1fpc ).
So still thinking about truth, I felt that I had to strip away the trappings of society and that really they needed to be naked to get to the heart of the matter. This filled me with fear and dread as I am not an exhibitionist, and the feeling of being judged not least my own sense of modesty. But I felt I had to face my fears. I started with an old Pentax me super on timer. I developed the first 36 shots to find I could see the “ego” in the shots…why should I be concerned if they ‘looked bad’ why should these little chemical prints seem to hold so much power. Iwanted to go further strip away more, get to the truth. I ended up with 2000 photos which culminated in hand held shots spontaneous and random. Whilst I didn’t answer; who I am, I was able to say that I no longer needed to ask that question, (that probably my first response would be correct) and the random shots showed some sort of representation of me as truthfully as I was able. However a few things happened in that first step ( as I have now been working on the body for 17 years and as you can imagine its gone through a lot of stages). I was aware quite rapidly that I am quite separate to the picture. I had through the process divorced myself from the image. (we have all seen people become defensive or even mortified by some photos … especially if some how it doesn’t fit their self image of themselves, it demonstrates that we are still connected that is still somehow them that you are seeing.) Also i became aware of the artificiality of the photo that we do not experience time as a single frozen aspect.
I came away with the realisation that so much goes into ‘constructing’ an image that this in itself was interesting and that I could not be in front of the camera and behind it if I wanted to take this further.
Live by the sword…
A modern advert proclaimed “impatience is a virtue”, which among other things made my heart sink. Even as an ironic statement it sums up our move away from the older values, (which may be inevitable) that somthing like a virtue may be subverted and used to sell, is a reflection of how things are becoming somehow reversed. There appears to be no value in skill. People have become commodaties to be used up. Front line services are cut whilst management congratulate themselves on savings made. No one sees or perhaps cares that these factors erode the very moral fabric of society, that slowly but surly they erode what i have chosen to hold true and worthwhile. It is an age of individualism, and i am a square peg in a round hole. Art reflects life and the two are intertwined. In my opinion, Art is not about funding or even public support but has an independent value not as somthing to rejuvinate an area or that a certain percentage development capitol should be allocated to or indeed that is sensationalist and newspaper worthy. It has the ability to reflect the soul (or whatever name you may choose to give it), that essential essence that makes us human.
I must be careful not to rant and i dont want this to be a list of what is wrong, i must reign myself in, by way of explanation; I have spent the last ten years teaching on Art degrees and i know i have very strong views. But i believe to be able to teach anything you have to have integrity. Integrity comes from your own practice and ultimately what you hold to be true and right. Despite what the government or institution or society might tell you to focus on. Deep down people know if you are telling them somthing of value. Satre insisted there was always a choice. i have seen a lot of changes and hand on heart i can not say they were in the students best interest. Not least the move away from the input of skills and technique. I had always intended to subvert from within. To be part of the system but to encorage free thought and the desire to question. Ultimately there was/is too much of a divide between the official line and my own personal belief.
Something Strange
I often have to ask where I am. Mostly its silent, a question to myself. I find it interesting that there is a state between the formation of a “structured” thought and the default state of simply existing or just being. It is reassuring to be in this thoughtless state. As close as can be to nothing. A mind in nuetral, a mind at rest. It is not until structure and syntax begin to order and form some type of internal dialogue, that the order of the words themselves promote a level of self awareness. But how close is the act of thought to words? Are they indeed capable of expressing all that I think? In all its wonderful myriad and nuisance of meaning? How much do they dictte the shape and form of the thought and therefore how dependent am I on my own limited vocabulary. My cofidence may dictate the words I use, as I try to recall the context, concept and meaning. Similarly all the half words the paralanguage the slang the mis-heard and all the words i simply can no longer recall. Slipped from my pallette and no longer fit for use. “a word aquires its sense from its context in agreement of the conventions of a sign” (Vygotsky 1972:146 P61). Alternatively I sometimes bypass words altogether and can identify the thought as sensory. Visually I am limited to the framework of my experience although I still may concieve or construct somthing beyond it.
