tweeting the self

It has been a while since I last blogged on this topic. Not because it has fallen by the wayside, but because it has taken on a steady momentum, an inevitability, that I rather like, and in some ways it almost has a life of its own.

Shortly after my last post, I fell into a ruminative phase after reading fully Laura Cumming’s book on self-portraits, A Face To The World. It seemed to me that amongst the 60 or so pieces I had at that stage, I had an example of every motivation and analysis of the art of self-portraiture from narcissism and egotism through to performance and self-knowledge. I think at one point I was so excited by this realisation that I decided I needed to re-read the book, make notes, and start re-analysing all the work I had done to date from these various perspectives. Other work has intervened though, and a more careful academic analysis will have to wait.

One thing which has struck me forcefully is that I am no longer concerned by the merits or worth of each piece viewed individually. It is now the concentrated mass of images I see, and I have surprised myself by the range of the work I have produced without planning. Every drawing every day remains a response to my self-view on THAT day, at THAT moment with whatever mobile device or digital equipment I happen to have to hand. Although I began with mirrors, I realised I had more freedom to do work wherever I might find myself if I took ‘blind’ photos from my phone, or caught myself posing on a webcam. I have experimented freely using some of these photos, and have extended the range and number of apps and drawing and painting software.

My latest development is the establishment of a dedicated blog ‘http://gillianholding.wordpress.com/’ to automate the links of posted images through to Twitter and Facebook and at the same time provde a bit of background to each piece, because I have found viewers are interested in the basis for and stories behind each response. Can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier!

Now the daily ‘habit’ of a self-portrait drawing is reasonably well established, I find my thoughts moving towards serious underlying critical theory issues raised by the project.

A recent article in Art Monthly by Dean Kenning (June 10/No 337, p.7) has caused me to start reflecting much more on what these self-presentations mean in terms of me as artist.

Kenning draws on a discussion by Hannah Arendt, who warns that appearance in the public realm in modern society may be just a means of satisfying a private. narcissistic need for public admiration. I read these words and take a sharp breath, because this cuts to the heart of the psychological challenge I face in trying to publicise my ‘self’ as widely as possible on a daily basis. Kenning acknowledges that exposure is neccessary in order to have a voice, but -and here’s the painful nub- “…it often seems to operate for the sole purpose of personal affirmation rather than, and against, any transforming influence on the wider field of art.”

Within the broader context of his article, Kenning does go on to consider ways in which the appearance of the artist can, paradoxically, be an expression of modesty, and raise important public awareness of questions of what the role of an artist is. I’m not sure I can avail myself-yet- of this convenient loophole, but I now can’t avoid these questions of who I am portraying and why.

I find I want to immerse myself now in the whole question of what self-portraiture has meant through the ages. I also need to reflect on how, and to what extent, it has changed, particularly in late 20th century culture and the more immediate recent past with the massive impact of social media culture. I find it odd that I started the whole project without consciously thinking about all of this, because it now seems a blindingly obvious line of enquiry. But then I suppose I always knew that the project would be a gradually revealing one in more ways than one.

I have a recurring dream at present. More of a nightmare, actually. I am walking along a narrow path with a precipitous drop one side and an impassible wall/rock/hedge the other. I reach an obstacle which I have to edge around close to the abyss, and I retreat in panic or cry with terror at the prospect of the risk of falling.

Hmmm. Does this in any way relate to my fears of self-exposure in this project? It may well do, but one thing it certainly does is remind me of something I can’t afford to forget if this artwork is to really succeed. It reminds me I have to take the risk of falling/failing if I am not to end up with banal mediocrity. In some ways of course, I have already taken risks in that (as my earlier posts have noted) this unremitting very public daily exposure has already dragged me well outside my comfort zone.

But now I’ve come to terms with the whole public-struggle-explore-bit, it’s time to reflect rather more on the artwork itself. More particularly, in making the work, I need to be aware of whether I am falling off precipices or at least trying to edge past obtacles. And most important, ensure I don’t go backwards to find a safer way around what I’m trying to do. At this stage, nearly a month in, it seems to me it would be easy to start getting a bit complacent about the approach I take each day, and to settle into a safe routine of some sort.

I have set myself strict daily time limits (a maximum of 30 minutes to draw but preferably less) and each piece begins as an immediate and intuitive response to the self at the minute/moment in question. The danger with working rapidly and intuitively is that I may not take enough time to think creatively and innovatively about what I am doing. But if I think too much before drawing, I lose the concept of impulsive spontaneous response. The challenge over the coming weeks will be to find an appropriate balance between the two.

Tumbling chaotically head first into the world of social media is one thing. But exposing an artwork publicly whilst it is in a state of continuing and possibly infinite development is a whole lot worse. What madness takes over when starting such a thing?

Exhibitions are usually clearly contextualised, and however the art is judged or assessed, a well-articulated artist’s statement is usually a help. In twitterworld, however, contextualisation is bound by the 140 characters, and the little daily drawing has to make its own way out there. It stands and falls all by itself.

I want to be able to shriek out loud that’s it’s all just an experiment/a process/an intuitive something-or-other, and please not to judge before I’m ready to understand and give some sort of coherent statement. And of course, that can’t be done in 140 characters either, so I’m left in some anguish with my very public work-in-progress.

I’m also squirming at the narcissistic implications of the whole idea. I began with the aim of doing an iPhone drawing a day, and needed a subject, and the subject became me, although it could at the start have just as easily been an apple, I suppose. The intent was and remains to examine how my perceptions shift on a daily basis and how this is influenced or influences the app employed. But figures are important in my work, so why not me as a subject? But now I have a whole trail of ‘me’ images already posted, I am slightly shocked at the nature of the Pandora’s box I’ve opened. My comfort zone ideally involves my head in a broom cupboard. Maybe this is more important than I think; hiding in broom cupboards is not the way to develop an exciting art practice, and maybe this challenge to my introversion is the best thing I could be doing right now.