Art Calling

I really don’t know. Obviously all art can’t be uplifting, but I was upset by this movie.

My friend Hugo often complains about the sugar sweet endings of so many American films. And I don’t think I require only happy endings to feel nourished by a film. But this was so g-d bleak.

I object to the DVD cover note: ‘Joined by love, separated by fear, and redeemed by hope’.  The last phrase is simply untrue and leads one to believe that things will turn out all right after all. They don’t,  not by a long shot.

It is based on the book by Ian McEwan, whose work I have been warned against by friends as having a brutal edge to it.

I am questioning what function this kind of art expression has. I certainly am still mulling about it, whereas, if it had been happily resolved I’d have forgotten it by now, probably.

But it tells the story of an intelligent and spiteful child and one act which has tragic consequences for her and several people close to her.

It is exquisitely made and acted, the Dunkirk evacuation scene, a 5 minute long camera shot with 1000 extras is dreamlike and stunning. And throughout the film, there is great beauty to be seen.

What I was left with from seeing the movie is that small actions can have horrific consequences, that war is more brutal than you ever want to imagine or can imagine, and that often people’s lives don’t have a happy ending.

I am not alone in my complex reaction to this movie, even the lead actor, James McAvoy said in an interview that he was still quite upset by the movie.   

So my question is what is the function of a piece of art that confronts you with some hard truths of life? How does it add to the quality of my life?  Is it just bitterness clothed in good technique? Or is there a more existential reason for taking someone’s time and attention to tell them a story like this, where something lovely was utterly and arbitrarily ruined?

Not having a TV and living a comparatively solitary life in a small village, books tend to be important to us. I found myself ‘bookless’ and in the middle of a bus strike without a car, so could not get to the library to replenish our stores.

But now I have a new book in my hands, ‘Changing Light’, by Nora Gallagher.  Here is an excerpt:

Einstein was sitting on a small screened-in porch crowded with old summer cottage furniture: wicker chairs with flaking white paint, a table with a water glass on it, an old canvas deck chair, three croquet mallets leaning against a wall in the corner. The floorboards had been painted white. The water of the sound could be seen through the grid of the screens. He was as Leo remembered him: a huge head, furrowed forehead, wisps of white hair, deep brown playful eyes…… 

The first page also has this kind of precise cadence, and I was not only drawn in by the images, but by the inherent sense of order contained in the rhythm of the writing. I also felt trust, asif I were in competent and compassionate hands. After only a few lines, I felt myself calmed by the clarity of the writing, and settled in for a good read.

It is about painting,
             and the atom bomb. 

On the back another favorite author, Annie Dillard writes, ‘At last a novel about something…’.

I’m looking forward to it.

Here comes a rant, be warned.

When I first stumbled upon the work of John Killick and Kate Allan in  creativity and dementia care, the first thing I learned from them was never never never to refer to someone with Alzheimer’s as ’senile’ or ‘demented’.

In Holland where I live, there is an even more insidious term used, ‘dementerende’, which means ‘dementing’  or ‘dementer’ (which has its own associations from Harry Potter!, ‘dementor’)- in the process of getting demented. 

Otherwise intelligent, compassionate people across all the disciplines and organisations involved with dementia care use this unconsciously without realizing how ultimately degrading and outright damaging it is. 

Once someone has been diagnosed with dementia it is almost as if they’ve lost the right to define their own identity,  (paraphrased from ‘Communication and the Care of people with Dementia’, Killick and Allan). 

Repeatedly referring to someone as a ‘dementer’ ( I have a one page brochure on ‘Activities for Dementers’ here from the national Alzheimer Non-Profit which uses the term 5 times, interspersed with ‘patient’), is defining them exclusively by their illness. It effectively wipes away any trace of personhood. On the other hand if you simply say, ‘person with dementia’, as you would say ‘person with cancer’ or any other disease, you address the wholeness of the person first, and the illness second. Or if you are a doctor who must use the term a lot, then PWD (person with dementia) , or Dutch MMD  would work too.

This depersonalizing of people with dementia is a grave violation of human rights. It makes possible situations like the one I heard of near here, where a beautifully situated waterside psychiatric nursing home is getting gutted, the residents moved to a less idyllic location, and apartments are being built because, ‘The patients don’t know the difference anyway and can’t appreciate the scenery’. Need I say more?

Restless and feeling a bit blue, I perused my bookshelf for something to lose myself in for awhile.

I took down one of my Barry Lopez’s: just the heft of the book and its sober cover promised comfort. I’m not talking about the ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ kind of comfort. Spending some time with Barry is more like being with a good friend who looks you in the eye and lovingly but clearly speaks the truth. 

On the first page of  his autobiographical, ‘About This Life,  Journeys on the Threshold of Memory’, he uses the word adumbrations. So you know right away you are not going to be pandered to, and will have to work a bit.

On the book jacket is a picture of the author, in this one, he looks a bit grim to me. But I think that neither he nor his writing are the cuddly sort. (Though, he might be if you got to know him well enough). 

What moves me most about his work is the passion under the words; this man cares to the point of pain about the natural world and our relationship to it.  But there is never overt sentimentality in his subjects. Sometimes his images are harrowing, but there is always a reason. His prose can be richly desciptive, but also pared down to a keen flint edge. What it comes down to is everything he writes matters. To him. And as a result, to the reader.

I have been reading his work for years, and his phrases are some of the most recurring in my calligraphic art. Through the example of his unwavering integrity, he has taught me about the role of the artist in the greater community. He says it best:

If I were asked what  I want to accomplish as a writer, I would say it is to contribute to a literature of hope…I want to help create a body of stories in which men and women can discover trustworthy patterns.
Every story is an act of trust between a writer and a reader; each story in the end is social. Whatever a writer sets down can help or harm the community of which he or she is a part.

[here he refers to himself as a child ]… When I write, I can imagine a child in California wishing to give away what he’s just seeen– a wild animal fleeing through creosote cover in the desert, casting a bright-eyed backward glance. Or three lines of overheard conversation that seem to contain everything we need understand to repair the gaping rift between body and soul. I look back at that boy turning in glee beneath his pigeons, and know it can take a lifetime to convey what you mean, to find the opening. You watch, you set it down. Then you try again.
-Barry Lopez

 

I’ve been taking voice lessons in the Lichtenberger method for about a year now and every lesson there are revelations. ( Lichtenberger is a scientifically based training for developing more strength, resonance and brilliance in the voice, I haven’t found any English info on it on the web yet)

Today, for instance my teacher, Petra Bierling said the following:

‘The first time I heard Gisela Rohmert, the founder of this method, sing, I was profoundly moved. There was nothing between her and the sound, so you heard her, not someone performing.

Before she developed this method, Gisela was a professional singer, when she performed, people came up to her and said, ‘Oh how beautiful your voice is, how beautifully you sing’.

But after she had been applying the method, when she sang, people came up to her and began sharing things with her about themselves.  They had been opened by the purity of the sound’.

During my lessons, I get different tasks to do while I sing long notes on ‘ooo’ ‘ oh’ ‘ooo’. For instance, today I had to hold my tongue in a certain position and notice what the tongue wanted to do to regulate the sound.
This was a pulling back reflex and had been an unconscious pattern and had acted as a damper on the sound. Once in awareness, this reflex was minimized and the sound became naturally deeper and more resonant.  The hardest thing about this is that you are discouraged from then consciously trying get the tongue to stay in the new position. You just trust the body to absorb that new knowledge and the body will know exactly how to regulate the sound. SO the ego- the part that says, ‘Oooh that was a nice sound, I want to do it again, so I have to do x, y  and z’ has to be sidestepped. You really do step aside, let go,  and watch the sound. And it is amazing what dramatic changes in tone come about after such miniscule physical adjustments.

Petra closed by saying,’

‘When it is the ego doing it, there is separation- its about ‘Look at me!’. When the ego is no longer dominating, then there is connection and communication’.

And of course the parallels with visual art follow on closely. If the ego gets in the way trying to direct a painting towards certain results based on achievement, reputation, or sales, there is no longer contact with the soul. The piece will have a very different function and feel than one made closer to one’s soul values.

But when I can get out of the way and let the work unfold, it speaks its own language. When people see it they don’t see ‘Sarah being a good artist’, they hopefully see something that speaks to their own experience, and connects them with a sense of meaning, beauty, and despite evidence to the contrary, a mysterious  crazy order underlying it all.

Artists don’t make art in order to make money.

Artists make art because they love to or feel a deep desire to which can’t be ignored. And then in order to support themselves, they need to sell their work.

Of course there are some artists who give art a bad name by charging exhorbitant prices: and don’t get me started on the whole art/gallery scene.
But even in the millions being given for art at high-end art auctions these days, there is a hidden truth that in its essence,  art is priceless.

So why is art important?  Why should you consider sponsoring art and artists?

1.  Because art and culture are essential parts of being human. Without them we would have no inner life.
   When Winston Churchill, was asked to scrap art grants during WW2, he said in effect, ‘ A society without the arts would not be worth winning the war for’.
2. The arts can initiate dialogue and create an environment for healing through communication
   (J. Smiers)
3. Our society is dominated by left-brained principles such as logic, science, intellect. The arts are the repositories for myth, symbolic language, intuition, emotion, stories, magic, chaos, and many right-brained functions we need to live whole human lives.
4. Artist visionaries provide commentary in the present society and first imagine, then bring into form new possibilities: for example, notice the entrance of spirituality into mainstream films.
5. Artists keep alive the imagination. For example,  in a society starved for stories, enter a writer such as J. Rowling with Harry Potter, and filmmaker Peter Jackson with the Lord of The Rings movies.
6. J.Smiers again (see previous post), Artists creating works of art with integrity are, ‘….our lines of defense against sloppy and dangerous exploitation of language, cruel misuse of images, and sad degradation of musicality into aural wallpaper’.
7. (ibid) ‘The arts are where in every culture deeply felt sentiments of joy, sadness, violence, beauty and crucial feelings about human life and relations between people are stored….’They are also decisive battlegrounds on many issues’.
8. And why should we as individuals take it upons ourselves to support artists? Because artist are in a tenuous position in society, their work is exploited and underpaid and unprotected, there is no financial or social infrastructure to support them, and everywhere grants  are being cut. 

  These are only a few points out of an entire body of information and thought on the subject.

One more point for consideration. And if you are reading this, I don’t think that this is directed to you because you are obviously considering some questions about life and the meaning of life. But a lot of people will say, ‘I don’t have the money for art, it is an unnecessary luxury’.

Replying to them I say, um, let’s see. How about your newest cell phone? And the box of new clothes you just brought to the Goodwill because they were no longer in fashion?  What about the redecoration of the living room, the new kitchen, the fancy bike for the 4 year old, the new toys the new porch furniture, the new barbecue because the one from two years ago didn’t have the ‘time save grill’ function. The stuff for the garden, the new this the new that.

Are these needed? How much does an average family in the Netherlands, for example, spend on party goods, fireworks, and most recently orange clothing and accessories for the football games. Quite simply billions.

An art work that connects with something inside of you becomes part of your home and life permanently. It gets passed from generation to generation, often increasing in both financial and subjective worth as it collects stories through time.

The choice is up to each one of us.

 ..the largest subsidy of cultural life,  ’comes not from governments, corporations, or other patrons, but from the artists themselves, through their unpaid or underpaid labour’.
-Alliance of Canadian Cinema, Television and Radio Artists.

(The above was quoted in a unpublished English translation of the book, ‘Confrontaties’ by Joost Smiers).

This is a favorite hobby horse of mine, so hold on, I’ll just plunge right in.

10 easy ways to support artists:

1 If you visit an artist’s studio during a gallery walk or art fair, and you spend more than 5 minutes talking with the artist, BUY something. It can be a card, a print, a catalogue, but return some of the energy that has been freely given to you.

2 Learn what your taste in art is. Collect cards, prints, small drawings from different artists, and after a year or so, review your choices and pick your favorites.

3 Buy directly from the artist or from artist co-op galleries. Galleries add as much as 100% to the cost of the piece. This percentage often goes into fancy gallery space and expensive catalogues. Most often buying directly from the artist will be considerably less expensive, but even when prices are comparable to gallery prices, the money you pay to the  artist will go into supporting them and not the gallery.

4 Learn what goes into pricing a piece of art. An artist pays all her expenses herself, materials, studio rental, living expenses, promotional material,social security, health insurance, etc. These will be reflected in the prices.

5 You obviously pay more than the price of the canvas and a layer of paint. Understand the ‘added value’ in art prices: An artist may work in series, but every original work of art is unique and unrepeatable.  For every work that soars, there have perhaps been 10 or more made that didn’t take off. The artist’s BEST work will be higher priced. Take into account, too, that a work that has specific value for the artist will also have a higher price-tag. Less important to this discussion but a factor all the same is that some artists will have more recognition, which also drives the price up. But ….. If you want to get the most out of your art purchase, buy from the heart.  If you are looking for an investment, go buy a house or a boat instead.

6 Support local artists. Check out what studios are in your neighborhood and go visit. Get to know the artist and their work, it will gain in value and significance for you if you are familiar with the conditions in which it was made. You are actually buying a little moment in the artist’s life.

7 The next time you want to donate to a charity, think instead of ways you could help a local artist. It may not be tax deductible, but it is an act of giving and will bring you fulfilment just the same. Here are some suggestions for how you or your business could help out an artist:

• donate studio space, either in exchange for art lessons for you or your kids, or just for free
• sponsor printing/publicity for the artist
• hang their work in your restaurant or school or other building, encourage people to buy
• donate used furniture or other goods to the artist for his workshop
• give money for a specific goal, ie for an easel or more materials or part of the studio rent or an upcoming show
• become a patron, buy work from this artist regularly
• lend a car or help in other ways to transport art to a show or elsewhere
• show regular interest, especially if the artist is having a difficult time. Invite them over for a cup of tea

8  When you next consider buying a business gift, birthday or birth gift etc, think of artists. In artist co-ops you can often find totally unique gifts such as handmade books, small scultpures, mini-paintings, prints, painted furtniture, light fixtures, clocks, mirrors, you name it. These are generally not more expensive than good brand name objects and they can sometimes be personalized.

9 Bring friends to meet the artist, buy or borrow one piece by the artist and hang it in your home or office. Help spread their name around.

10 Try your own hand at painting or drawing, at best it will give you a rewarding hobby, at least it will give you insight into what skills are needed to create art.

Wishing you inspiration!

I had a great insight this morning. But first some background:

For at least two years I have felt dissatisfied and stuck with my oil pastel drawings. I’ve felt a new impulse pushing to get through, but have not been able to give it form.
After copying several of Krabbé pieces in different media, and through that study, being educated in certain aspects of form and handling paint, I am actually looking at my surroundings differently.  Actually, any serious painter could have led me to these changes. I am basically a draughtswoman and seeing like a painter does literally open my eyes to new perceptions.

So now, enough copying, how to translate what I’ve learned into my own work?
That is where I had the insight. Several times now I have sat down at my drawing table with the attitude of, ‘OK, now it is time for my new work to reveal itself’, and crashed in flames. Duh. 
What I did this morning, which led to the breakthrough in thinking, was to simply start where I was. And I got it,  and it is so obvious!  Your new work has to grow out of your old!  Just sitting down with my familiar materials and starting work in a way that feels good and familiar to me gets the energy flowing- and energy has to flow first before it can reach a new place. Of course. 

It isn’t that simple, though. If it were, my work would have already changed and grown to its next step. I’ve sat down countless times and only came up with the same old same old. But still, the thing is to keep working.

So let me augment the original insight a bit; your new work emerges when there is adequate new input to shake old habits and form a new order.  And the way to get there is to approach from the framework of your old work.

I’m working on an oil pastel on dark blue Canson paper that is a partial copy of a favorite old piece of mine. Starting this way gave me just enough structure to hold onto while seeing if anything else wanted to happen. I am seeing different colour combinations and feeling a slightly different emphasis, that I know wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t gone through this intense exploration of someone else’s work beforehand. 

I am back in the familiar world of my own mark making, composition and colour sense. It is like using a trusted vocabulary, but  to write a new story.

Moving between two projects today, I experienced very clearly the diversity of the work I do.  These two were a particularly strong contrast and drew on different skills and attitudes.

The first was an underpainting I did as preparation for a study of one of Jeroen Krabbé’s oil paintings.

I chose this painting basically because I love it and also wanted the experience of working with the warm reds he used. Ironic that what I could see through the surface strokes was a blue underpainting; although painters often use the complement or one close to it to provide contrast for the top layer. I pulled out my old oils and the minute I filled up the brush and started working I realized how much I love this medium. It is so creamy and sensual, the colors are so rich. In contrast to this aliveness, acrylic feels like plastic. Which it is. I enjoyed the freedom of brushing on the color with a large brush and being a little messy.

Still with acrylics you can work in layers quickly since it dries so fast, now I have to have patience before I can go on.

The afternoon I spent rounding off a monogram I had designed and hand lettered.

I tried unsuccessfully to upload the grey scale version here so all the touch-ups could be seen. Anyway, this was drawn freehand, quite large (around A-4, 81/2 x 11 format) with pen and India ink then retouched with white gouache. No computer work on this whatsoever. Cross my heart…
It is extremely exacting work, drives me nuts actually. Still the result is nice and it will be used on a gold signet ring.

If you want to see a real wizard when it comes to flourishing, and someone who manages to lift  letter decoration out of stuffy tradition right into super kewl, go to Marian Bantjes .

Seeing the Krabbé show set up an irresistible longing in me to get seriously down to my own image making. I made a few false starts of my own, then finally gave in and started making studies of his work. I realized that to jump-start myself out of my normal way of seeing and working, I needed to try something radically different.

Making exact copies of his watercolours I was able to see how he approaches colour and form. To get the same results, I had to change the way I apply washes, change my thinking around, and let go of all my
habits.

Copying one of his oils was harder. I used acrylics, and the Tuscan landscape had to be underpainted first with dark colours to offest the beautiful morningsun drenched palette he used. As he  says in the DVD from the show, a lot of his underpainting is detailed, realistic form, and he works on the painting constantly rubbing out detail and  simplifying until he gets the results he wants.

So copying just the end result is like skimming off the surface of a deep and complicated story. The painting, any painting, is a layer of stories. Spending time revealing the layers of one painting was more valuable than a year of painting courses. I learned where he used the brush and where he preferred the palette knife. I saw how some colours were mixed right on the painting. Sometimes I could sense what he might be thinking when he made certain choices. Of course copying all his serendipitous accidents in such a studied way, lost something, but still the learning experience was great.

What’s more, spending time inside his colours was an intimate way to get to know the art and artist.

And I realized that this way of getting truly inside his art is a way of finding a path to my own.