Daniel
We all like happy happy. It's easier to look at happy happy art because it doesn't challenge us, and who needs constant challenge? Sometimes we just need to see something pretty. Nothing wrong with that.
Years ago I spent a lot of time in Hawaii, near Kona. The weather was always perfect. There was nothing to complain about. Every day was the same. I really enjoyed it. Really, really enjoyed it. Beauty everywhere.
But I began to miss the seasons. Hawaii's microcosmic and extravagant beauty couldn't stand up to the variety and extremes where my mind's eye wants my body to be.
This is how I feel about art too. I will whisper my secrets into the soul of the viewer, say something personal about me and you, create a record.
Happy art is a good thing, as a good long stay in Hawaii can be a good thing. But a steady diet of happy is a sure road to soul death, and art is about soul. Art is about complete communication, a kind of oneness with the unknown.
An artist has an obligation to be a kind of explorer. Someone who does a nice painting over and over and over again is not an explorer. This is a person with a formula, and is stuck.
In order to break free and explore, an artist must allow himself to be unafraid of his own inner voice. Is it a happy voice? Fine. Is it a pissed-off voice? Fine too. Sadness, misery, the gamut of emotion, they're there to excavate and reveal.
Some artists who are devastated by their personal circumstances take it all out on their art, and never see the inside of a psychiatrist's office. Others pay for a shrink and produce pap…but pap sells. There's a market for everything.
Here's what I wish: that I will be brave enough to be honest in my work. When I'm happy, or feel pretty, I'll paint that, but when I'm not, when I'm depressed or scared, I'll paint that too. I believe that if I can do that, the work will have a kind of integrity.
Juried shows provide an artist with something to put on their resume, and to place at all in such a show is a prestigious feather in an artist's cap. Jurors often view 'darkness' in a painting as a bad thing, and they avoid it like the plague. Jurors generally like happy.
Take that as information, not advice. Because my advice is, don't paint for the juror. Paint for the invisible explorer that's in your own head, a person who is really your own inner voice, a part of you, and who will take whatever you produce and tell you, it's great, it's a museum-worthy piece. Be brave.
Brave is the new pretty
4 comments:
"Don't paint for the juror" would be a great blog post title. I'm all for it despite the consequences. It's funny, but it highlights the issues artists go through all the time about what way to take their art.
It also reminds me of an expression I used to use as a performer. It was common practice to end a set or a concert with a song that "guaranteed maximum audience response" which is the performing arts equivalent of painting for the juror. :-)
Nicely written. You covered some important bases and you did it well.
beautiful post, Yola! LOVE IT! you are brilliant!
Yolanda,
The inner voice is the brave voice. You are so right.
Letting go of paintings, as you described in your last post, is also a brave thing to do. Your way of 'keeping' them via documantation rings true with me too. I think you might be abit more organised than me, but I do keep images stored in various places.
Cheers,
Kathryn
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