"What you feel and what things are aren't the same." - Donald Judd
I had no idea I'd find a kindred spirit in Judd, but I have. It started innocently enough, in a book recommendation, Spiral Jetta. The author visits Judd's work in Marfa, and her discussion of one of his installations leads me to think that in Judd I may find some clues and strategies for installing my own work. But there the fatal turn: in an academic moment, I borrow a book of essays (as opposed to pictures) from the library ("Donald Judd," edited by Nicholas Serota), on the premise that it is important not merely to reappropriate Judd's installation methods but to understand his reasoning.
In reading, I am finding that, first and foremost, Judd is an advocate of careful and conscious experience. Therein the kindredness.
So here we are. While I remain uncertain of the art/object status of my work (perhaps Fried will shed some light on this in his essay "Art and Objecthood," which I have also obtained) I am not sure of the importance of the distinction. I want to better understand how to express where I stand, not only for the sake of articulate apologia in critique, but also to elucidate my own awareness.
Also this week: I viewed photos of Marina Abromovic's work, after a friend's description of many of the works in her recent retrospective in New York elicited from me a somewhat incredulous response. I regret the response, for experiencing the recount spoke of the strength and impact of the work. But everything was lost in the physical description. The description is a handle, a way to refer to the work such that others understand the reference. But the work must be experienced.
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6 comments:
I know you are seeking and searching. But your own path is unique and distinct from all others. At some point, you will have to throw away everything you have learned and experienced and strike out into the unknown.
Marfa may become the new Santa Fe. There's certainly a lot of wealthy people buying real estate in the area. But Texas is not New Mexico, and Marfa is very close to the Mexican border. The life style is simpler, slower, more conservative, and harkens back to earlier days. It's ranch country, pure and simple, now seeing an influx of money. I am not sure what impact that has on an artist living there, such as Judd, whether he's touched more by the land or the wealth, but remember that he's just like you and he's nothing more than another human being trying to find his way and express to others the way he sees himself and the world. In that sense, we are all kindred spirits.
Remember van Gogh and his life. He was not recognized in his lifetime. The same is true for many musicians and composers. The spirit of creation may overwhelm the creator leading to a wonderful piece of art, and yet may fail to move the audience of the day only to be appreciated and admired in retrospect. Many people fail to see real genius even if it stands in front of them, while they fawn over lesser works that will not stand the test of time.
So take care of Julie's creative drive and create to your heart's content. Take care of Julie's desires and artistic visions, and use them to good effect in your creative process. If your creations are as spirited as you are, you should have no fear that they won't stand the test of time. And it will also not matter where you are or what sources you draw upon for inspiration, because the main inspiration will come from within.
Thanks for the encouragement. Well timed, on the heels of a stupid critique. (Two major problems. I wasn't happy with my work because it wasn't well resolved. I had been told to show resolved work, but the truth was that I should have showed finished pieces for ideas in progress. So basically, what the prof had told me caused me to show the wrong stuff.) Wasted a chance for a productive conversation. Fucking irritating.
I worry about "making it" and I don't. I can't make it happen, I can only do my best work.
Again, remember van Gogh. His work was rejected all the time by experts even though his brother and his best friend understood him and his work. This doesn't just happen in art. It happens in science and other fields as well. One could call it the Planck Effect.
Ask children if they like your work. They'll be less encumbered by an education, have freer imaginations, and they'll also be honest. Adults will have more biases and baggage unless you can find another art critic nun like Sister Wendy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wendy_Beckett).
I'm aware that the question of "making it" as an artist is an artificial one. It's not as though I had a critique and my genius went unrecognized; I wasn't happy with what I put up. What I think about my work, how I react to my work - that is the most important thing to me.
Asking children is artificial, too. There are plenty of good artworks out there that are best understood as dialogical - and for that, the viewer needs to be grounded in art theory and/or history.
It is increasingly absurd to me that we have art museums. High math can't be understood by the average art-museum-goer any better than highly conceptual art can be. Mondrian, for example, was working at solving a formal/visual problem. If you don't unerstand that, you're just looking at a strange painting.
Each of us is our own harshest critic. That's human nature. But, why should you judge yourself. Who is judging whom? Now there is a Zen account of a woman artist who made priceless incense burners and after making one, she would study it for some period of time. If it didn't meet her standards, she destroyed it. ( http://www.101zenstories.com/index.php?story=79 )
Art is supposed to be a rather democratic institution just as music is since just about every one has eyes and ears. I'm sure artists have made exhibits for the blind and deaf, but I haven't come across any. Stating that one has to know something in order to appreciate the work elevates that piece of art to what, intellectual elitism? At the very least, it narrows down the audience and limits the number of those who can truly appreciate it. How is that not artificial? It's certainly a selection or screening process for those with degrees in Art History or the Fine Arts.
The genius of the great artists is that any one can be touched by their works without the need to be educated or informed. For those like van Gogh, the old generation of art dealers and critics had to likely die off while a new generation of dealers and critics without their biases came on to the scene in order to recognize van Gogh's works. This is the Planck effect. In a way, it's like the spiritual masters conundrum. Multitudes hear what they say, but only a few get it, The spiritual masters never limit their audiences by education or intellect, though. Truth can be appreciated and understood by anyone, though may be only a few truly understand it at the time. Is art any different? Isn't it just a different medium of human communication?
"At some point, you will have to throw away everything you have learned and experienced and strike out into the unknown."
That's basically, like, every day. Not every day, literally, but many days. There's a particular sort of discomfort that comes with it.
I work quickly and slowly... have to live with things in order to start to understand them. Move them around, look in different ways. There's always something to learn. Great artists needn't touch everyone. He who has eyes, let him see... things like that. And yes, art is a medium of communication.
I feel like you made a comment about the student becoming the master, or teaching the master, or whatever. If it happens, it happens, and in open exchange, it's bound to happen sometimes. But to aim for it is deluded and prideful. I am young and much at the beginning, and am finally coming to understand that things take time to develop; there is no shortcut.
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