Week 2: Fluidity

Laura Vandenburgh was briliant. Her ideas of drawing having an aesthetic element and a more functional element were brilliant. She seemed to suggest that drawing is not only beautiful sketches or doodles on the edges of a notebook, because it serves a more expansive purpose as well. What I got from Vandenburgh  was the incessant idea of the unconscious and the bigger picture; that art shouldn’t be viewed with a narrow eye or subjective manner. Instead, what I took from Vandenburgh was that art should encompass the bigger picture, the conscious and unconscious, the aesthetically appealing elements as well as the abstractly challenging concepts working together. That viewing art as a whole in this way is most conducive to getting the most out of it. Vandenburgh also seemed to express adamantly that anyone with a hand and a writing utensil can leave a mark. And that the mark, whatever it is and however it got there, is a product of your unconcious and concious working together to express some kind of inherent ideas, thoughts, or feelings that you have.

Margaret Kilgallen and her sentiments of “things that show the evidence of the human hand” had me feeling all giddy, nostalgic, and overwhelmed. Her craft of the handmade aesthetic and her notion of  art as beautiful because of its preserved aesthetics. Art 21 calls Margaret Kilgallen “straightforward yet stylized” and this description is quite fitting. She does work because of the possibilities it holds; maybe it will help someone else, maybe it will affect someone else in some profound way, maybe  it will mean nothing to the person and that will cause them to stop and reflect on why they got nothing out of it. But nevertheless, it’s rewarding to her, and it’s really what life and art are all about. The possibility, the connectivity and the authenticity that the art garners; the fact that art is handmade and authentic to the one person who made it, that it expresses the person’s craft as an artist and that the piece is specific to someone or something, an expression of a moment in time, and yet at the same time, that the piece has the potential to affect someone else. It seems Kilgallen’s art is focused around nurturing and maintaining these connections. For example, in the hand-painted train-yard photo, where Kilgallen takes an existing photo and hand paints another figure hugging the one in the photo, we see the power of not only the drawn-in figure, who seems to fit perfectly, but  with the word “WEED” scrawled on the hat, there is a sense of not only the handmade and authenticity, but also a sense of completion. That for Kilgallen, the photograph is now finally complete because it completes the bigger picture of her unconscious. With her large, expansive art pieces,  we encounter a straightforward style with tremendous impact. The huge walls with single words scrawled across them, as seen at the art installation at UCLA, or in “To Friend and Foe” with her giant figures of women, unique in style yet simplified and streamlined, or with her hand-painted train-yard art, all are representations of what Kilgallen exemplifies in her work: an honest and fluid portrayal of life through the human hand.

The concept that intrigued me the most in Art Theory For Beginners was the notion of “intrinsic qualities versus extrinsic qualities in art.” Bell’s formalism suggests the idea that “good” art should include all ideas within itself, so that the person viewing the art “gets it” and in turn doesn’t have to do any work or ask any hard questions,. This suggests that “representational art was bad because it focused on what was outside of the painting- what it represented” instead of being all wrapped up into one beautiful, aesthetically pleasing package, devoid of challenge and easily understood. I think Bell got it wrong. Way wrong. Because, art should be challenging, difficult, overwhelming, uncomfortable, uncertain, incredible, beautiful, ugly, simple, complicated, infinitely conceptual, or definitively aesthetic. It should be all and anything it can and wants to be. Suggesting that representational art was “bad” is to imply that all good ideas should be wrapped neatly and carefully up inside themselves, with no room for expanding on ideas, concepts, aesthetic qualities. When Bell says good art should include all ideas within itself, there are no possibilities, there is no future, there is no fluidity of ideas and emotions. It’s limited. And quite frankly, I think it’s boring. Instead, what we see with Margaret Kilgallen and Laura Vandenburgh is this brilliant practice of art, with ideas outside of themselves. Ideas that are not limited, that reverberate throughout their other works, and that focus on what is outside of the painting. How powerful is an art piece, object, or installation that makes you think outside of what you’re viewing. That pushes you and makes you uncomfortable, and that often times, warrants the “WTF?!” moment. That’s the good staff. 

 

Another interesting notion I encountered in ATFB was Danto’s perspective on art and art theory. He thought that Andy Warhols’ Brillo Boxes were the “representative of the end of art” in the sense that the “dominant orthodox trajectory of what art was thought to be” had collapsed.  The thing that resonates most with me in all of this is Danto’s idea of “institutional acceptance” as not being enough; that an art object should have to “earn its status” in the sense that art has to prove itself, in whatever capacity and whichever context, whether it’s in a gallery or on the side of a train, that art has to work for itself, and can’t rely solely on the institutionalization of itself to be considered art. 

As I understand it, at the same time Pop Art, Neo-Dadaism, and Minimalism were all crucial to the breaking of old institutionalized constructs of art and art theory, as was prevalant for decades before. As a broader spectrum of what art could be emerged, so too did the “dematerialization” of art objects. That’s to say, that this idea of dematerializing art was just a byway to the conceptualization of art: that in place of the materials, the craft, and the stroke as the crucial components and means by which to evaluate an art object, came a style of art where the concept of the work was the art. This conceptualization of art was more concerned with ideas, and less concerned with the objects used in an art piece, and was imperative in the progression of art as a display of the unconscious that can still be seen today. Just as Pop Art was not originally understood as it began in the 1950’s, so too was Kilgallen’s train-yard art not widely understood by her parents (and I’m sure, many others as well). I believe Kilgallen mentions something in one of her articles about her parents not understanding graffiti on the sides of buildings and trains, yet they don’t even stop to question print ads, television commercials, or any of the other “junk” being visually thrown at them on a daily basis. It’s interesting to note this comparison between visual ‘junk’ that our minds swift through on a daily basis, and how, depending on the medium it is being projected onto, we react differently, or rank one as “higher” form and the other as “lower”, such as graffiti.  

This idea is also discussed in ATFB, when they write: “There has always been a dialogue between mass culture and art, between the High and the Low.” I think this dialogue between differentiating the “good” and the “bad” or the “high and the “low” and the need to do so is a direct product of cultural constructions and cultural conditioning in terms of art; that is to say, that “high” art is/was often considered so because of the institution, and our tendencies as a society are to side with and trust in such institutional constructs, so of course most aren’t going to argue what is “good” art because some higher authority (i.e. a gallery) already said it was so. And on the flip side of that coin, “bad” art is considered so because of it’s exclusion from galleries and the stigmas attached to it.  

The other intriguing notion in Art Theory For Beginners is Heidegger’s concern with looking at art “less as objects, and more about arriving at truth.” This idea of arriving at truth can be seen in both Margaret Kilgalen’s work with train graffiti and her larger installations, and Laura Vandenburgh’s work with drawing as a means to access the unconscious. For Killagen the “evidence of the human hand” is obvious. Your hands don’t lie. Your hands reveal what kind of person you are, what kind of values you hold, what kind of truths you know to be true; your hands reveal your character in the sense that what you do with your hands, whether that be drawing, doodling, playing basketball, or helping an old lady walk across the street, all these actions reveal the truth. They give evidence as to what you stand for and who you are, what’s really important. And for Kilgalen, the evidence we see from her hand’s work is that she’s real. Honest. And that her work is never static. As for Laura Vandenburgh, the evidence of her human hand at work can be found in her ability to seam together the minute details with the larger, sweeping picture. She reveals her truths through her hand and her craft and her ideas and her expressions. 

Art shouldn’t be static. It should have a fluidity about it; there aren’t certain parameters that need to be filled, or that an artist has to prescribe to in order to make art and engage with an audience. It’s all encompassing and flexible and leaves room for the artist to reveal their truths, in their own time and in their own way. Simply putting thoughts, messages, drawings, doodles, whatever, on to a some sort of medium is enough. It is enough because through the hands, and ultimately, through the mind, truths are revealed.

This video by Ryan Woodward completely captures my heart, not only lyrically and stylistically, but also in the manner in which it was constructed- it’s an aesthetically pleasing mix of sketches and animation with great care for the handmade.

Thought of You from Ryan J Woodward on Vimeo.

Week Two: From Chronicler to Participant

In "Doin' Dirt Time" Rachel Dutton and Rob Olds giving up everything, seeking their full potential without material limits or economical restrictions. They're after renewal. They're trying to demonstrate that living is the purest art form by living in complete solitude, which is indeed a very notion radical for most people. However, this alluring act is an act of art in itself, and it makes quite the statement- two people who don't want to be held prisoner by their past, or prisoner by their art, so they drop it all and flee.  Their sense of urgency is intriguing, almost a subconscious thing; they just knew they needed to get out of LA and so they did. like some divine intervention. Almost like art as god? Rob Old says he, " didn't even know it was happening" but yet it happened: the total transformation of art and life.

In the beginning, it seems art is controlling them, even if they are trying to free themselves of art. They're running from LA, burning or giving away their art, like it's some kind of demon or plague. Almost like an unsettling nightmare, or a hellish reality they couldn't escape. But when they started anew, secluded in the wilderness with no one around but themselves, they rediscovered art. They found art as pure and simple as it comes. To me it seems that art was chasing them, chasing them out of town. They were/are the hunted, and art is the hunter. The modern culture couldn't provide them with the art they inherently desired, subconsciously longed for. So they had to remove themselves from that culture, and place themselves purposefully in an environment where they could practice art in an intentional way, practice living and being with intention. Art as their spiritual medium, art as god.

Simply just being can't be a form of art in the modern world because we are never just being, they don't jive. We are constantly caught up in the latest technologies, latest tv show, latest drama, never truly living in the moment, never truly connecting with the earth/our environment the way the earth intended us to. So with advancement in technology and advancement in our cultural commodities (seemingly evolved culture) comes this incessant and insatiable need to create art because when we create something it is alive, it is born, we are giving it life. Modern art tries to put life back into the earth seemingly devoid of life. Because living as art, it isn't special in our modern world, it can't be. We don't grow our own vegetables, we don't make our own fires, we don't do anything sacred to connect us with the earth. We are totally and completely isolated from the art of living. And Rob and Rachel did the exact opposite; they completely isolated themselves form our modern culture in order to create, to live, to be art, whereas modern culture completely isolates it self from earth, from living, from simply being, in order to participate in this modern world. The notion of our dependence on things: "you're not going to die if you turn the damn box off" really strikes a chord, and we can relate this notion to most modern technology. You are not going to die if you turn off your tv for a night. You are not going to die if you unplug your fridge (or if you skip dinner). You are not going to die if you turn off your computer (or go a weekend without internet-trust me, I've done it, I'm still alive and probably better for it). You are not going to die if you turn off your phone. You are not going to die if you turn off your iPod (and simply listen to the sounds of nature). Although, I have to admit, sometimes it really feels like we are going to die if we turn off the damn box. It's so uncomfortable. It's extremely challenging, given all these technological commodities are readily available, that we not engage in and interact with them.  We make it our reality that we can't "live" without such technology because that's the story we've convinced ourselves of. But, what's even more daunting, more challenging, more uncomfortable, is venturing into the seemingly unknown, as Rachel and Rob have done, to live. To really, really live. To practice the art of living in the purest and most simple way they know how.

Something interesting, and perplexing to me, to note, is that Rachel and Rob are both firmly of the belief that art has no role in the world. I find this contradictory and disproportionate to their beginnings of their journey, for a few reasons. If art plays no role, or should play no role in our culture, then it would have been impossible for Rob and Rachel's transformation to take place. They said that art very well played a part in the transformation of their conscious, from their journey from LA to isolation. The art the created in their past (the modern art) propelled them down the path they are on now. It made them conscious and aware of their own need to seek out a more simple life. Art made them aware enough. Art told them that they didn't need art (in the modern sense) in their lives anymore; through their drawings and sculptures and images of people burning they were. Art was the reason they went in to isolation, into a secluded part of the earth, with no interaction or participation . Art played a role in the transformation of their lives. So to say that art has no role, even now, seems contradictory. If art can shed light on cultural, social, and environmental issues for Rob and Rachel, and steer them in a more pure and simple direction, then what makes us think that it might not be able to do the same for other artists? It has to play some kind of role.

Christopher Manes is adamant that the story we write (and have written) for ourselves is our reality; that we think we are the dominant, most evolved species, and so therefore, in our minds we are. This causes problems because when our story tells us that we are superior to, say a fungus or a cow, then we believe we are, thus perpetuating the destruction of the earth/other living beings so that we create a world in which we are the sole beneficiaries. Christopher says that "it's hard to imagine that we're not more important than other things, because we are so powerfully all over the place" which I think is an accurate sentiment that most human beings feel. If we weren't the most important things on the earth, then what would be the point of living? What would be our purpose? It's easy to assign a purpose to life when we deem ourselves the most evolved and the most powerful and important species. It's scary to think that we may not be the most important, most evolved thing; that earth is interconnected with nature and with everything in a way that makes all living things equal.

That's a radical and challenging notion to accept. And I think that's why we keep re-writing our story as the most powerful and dominant being, because if we subject ourselves to an equal plane with all other living things on this earth, then life seemingly loses its meaning (although it doesn't have to, and it shouldn't). We all want to be the most special thing that exists! If we weren't, what "fun" would that be?! If we aren't "special" then we aren't anything. That's the general consensus. But wait a minute. Hear me out: I think life would be tremendously more meaningful and fulfilling if we relished at the thought that everything that exists on earth is of equal importance and that everything is connected. That we all exist together on the same level, not as different levels of an evolutionary scope. How mind blowing and challenging and overwhelming and completely incredible is that notion?! I think it's mind blowing. And challenging. And incredible. And I think that when art stems from this notion, this idea of oneness and connectedness to the earth and every living thing, then it's art in the most pure form.

To come full circle with the idea of eco-art and/or living as art, it's beneficial to look at the work of Colin Ives. His interactive installations are a testament to what it means to be inherently connected to animals that co-exist in our urban environment.  His focus seems to be on connecting the human with the animal through art, in a way that triggers an emotional response and brings about questions of environmental and ecological issues in a way that's accessible for the viewer. Piece by piece, Colin is raising the awareness of humans while situating them on the same plane, or level, as the animals that co-exist the land with them. It is interesting to note that in the installation of "The Clearing" no one in the room wanted to intentionally stand in front of or walk by the projector; that is, to say, we as humans have this inherent need to preserve nature. This interactive art piece demonstrates that we indeed do not want to disrupt the natural and pristine state of the forest, that we respect the forest (or the image in projected in the installation) enough to be careful and watch our step. Yet in the world today, this sentiment is lost. In an isolated show room, we are adamant on preserving the pure state of nature, but out in the real world, the real forest, we are careless and destructive. I think there is something profound to be said about this, although I'm not sure the right words to convey my thoughts.

We're so far removed from the consequences of our actions and our role as active participants on this earth that we've lost all sense of connectedness to our environment, and this has in turn perpetuated human beings and our culture to where we are now. Disconnected from earth and observers in our lives, as opposed to participants. Art plays a role, however big or small, pure or impure, for everyone. It's the method that manifests in different ways, but to think of art as participation in life and experiencing life versus art as observation is the most pure and to the core of the earth. I think that's what it all comes down to: the transformation "from chronicler to participant" as Suzi Gablik so eloquently states it.

*all photos taken by TK