Art and Theory. Theory of Art. Art in Theory. Theory on Art. All the reading I have been doing of late has started to have a confusing affect. As a practicing artist, the notion of theory seems a way of validating my activities. A back up, a reasoning … a rational explanation to my seemingly irrational actions. I am indeed interested, like many artists, in philosophy, anthropology, semiology and the many other forms of social science and cultural discourse.
I have just finished reading Jean-Francois Lyotard’s "The Postmodern Condition : A Report on Knowledge" and now I am on the search for the next book that might be of relevance. But, even amongst the plethora of art and theory publications (perhaps this in some way exacerbates the problem!), I can’t seem to find THAT book. A text that would summarise my practice in a neat and concise fashion. To some extent I don’t really want to read a book that helps describe exactly what I am trying to achieve? If my thoughts and work could be summed up in 200 pages, I would be somewhat disappointed! Sometimes, it just feels like I need to justify my practice and feel part of a sensus communis (I expect Freud would have much to say on this!).
With the death of meta-narratives (or grand narratives) as described by Lyotard, each artist’s work falls into a pluralistic art world where every practice deserves individual attention, and hence a unique publication. I would be wary of advocating self-promotion in the form of writing a book about my own work, what is known as “vanity publishing” in the sphere of poetry. It is interesting though that as artists we all form the traditional portfolio, a visual version, so how close can this form cross with its textual version…the book?
Though I am finding my practice static, in terms of what I consciously consider to be “making work”, I am finding other avenues of expression. This blog for example, started due to a feeling of stasis, could represent a development. Could it constitute a work on its own? It is certainly an expression, it is temporal, acting as a documentation of thoughts and struggles. These are all facets that echo a type of artistic production.
If “… gestures have a quality of blundering, indicating an imperfect consciousness” (Brian O’Doherty, Inside the White Cube) then this form of writing, its meandering themes and exploration is a gesture. O’Doherty is writing in relation to the gallery being used as a form in itself, where the gesture is reactionary to what the gallery represents (its formal system). The gallery as context becomes the gallery as content. In the same way can this blog play role reversal?
At present this remains unclear to me. I recognise this writing as a release of sometimes in-coherent (or perhaps incomplete) thoughts and am still considering the potential within this. Writing has always been an important form to me, more so than drawing even. I have decided to try and resolve some of my other writings into more structured forms. I have been working as a technician in an art college and have noticed how risk assessments (and other written forms that require completion and authorisation before any artistic action) often act as constrictions rather than enablers.
As a gestural reaction I decided to start writing risk assessments of even the most mundane of actions, the use of pencils, sitting in the studio etc. These, in an anarchic anti-authoritarian statement, are to be put up on the display walls of the college. The reaction to them by management, as the academic year starts shortly, will perhaps be the completion of the work.
Some good news today and something to smile about. Following on from my thinking around the idea of humour in art, I purchased Simon Critchley's book "On Humour" (part of the Thinking in Action series by Routledge). I was a bit nervous about venturing into this kind of academic writing on the subject, after all, there couldn't be anything less humerous than a deep philosphical discussion. Or could there? The Austrian philosopher Wittgenstein once said he could imagine a book of philosophy made entirely of jokes! And to prove his point I am really enjoying finding the plethora of views on what exactly makes humour 'work'. This may yet prove to be a good area of research for the MA.
The real good news is that I have won a prize! I am currently showing work at the Surface Gallery as part of their open show 'Turbulence' and have been selected (as one of two artists) to show more work in the new year. It will be a great chance to exhibit work made in the first few months of the MA.
I feel like I need to laugh, I am worrying too much. I have noticed in this period of evaluation that humour, in its many guises, seems to rise up consistently within my work. It is surprising in a way, as I do not consciously intend to create a joke for comic effect. Pink lawnmowers, re-circulatory vacuum cleaners, wax ironing boards … all these works have serious intentions as comments on commodity and their labelled functions’ (both in physical and cultural relationships) but are also clearly pieces of comedy.
I feel wary of the content and importance of humour in my work. The feeling of making a joke that nobody laughs at, of dying on stage, could keep me awake at night ! But at the opposite end of the spectrum it can be powerful.
“Humour and art share much in common in enabling access to a world of freedom and intuition.”
(Felicity Lunn & Heike Munder, When Humour Becomes Painful, exhibition catalogue for Migros Museum, Zurich)
So why not take the risk ? For the viewer, smiling at work can still feel sacrilegious. The context often prescribes this seriousness, namely the gallery, with is formality and tradition which seems to frown upon you. Yet what is there to do except smile when presented with a urinal as art ? It is a playful artist asking you to join in, to return to childhood where one can be more susceptible to the serious notions that often run parallel. Attitudes are changing within the gallery context and towards avant-garde art. This was perfectly summed up by the final part of Tino Sehgal's trilogy of shows at the ICA earlier in the year. Being put into a space with children playing and being encouraged to join in their games feels awkward at first but overcome this and the interaction was truly fulfilling and refreshing. What is so wrong with being a child once in a while ?
One part of the waiting is over. I received my letter from the AHRC this morning and was sent the small, thin envelope instead of the large one! Unfortunately, despite being graded as "high priority for an award" (grade 4) this is essentially nowhere near good enough to guarantee funding. Of the 5,500 entries only 25% are awarded funding and so it is well known that statistically my chances were always low. This doesn't particuarly help with the feeling of dissappointment.
It does of course bring up the question of what next ? I still have a scholarship application outstanding and this represents my last hope. I am deteremind to still go through with the MA one way or another, it just seems it is going to be a real financial struggle (i.e. increasing my debts further) as well as an artistic one.
