tweeting the self

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.