i find myself compelled by writing about art in ways which i am not by actual art.
i was reading an article from the nyer about john currin, about the process and the thought and the dedication adn the time that goes into each of his detailed figurative paintings, and i love the words used. i love the old master, and the symbolism, and the figurative, and the references to de kooning and to others i’ve never heard of, i love the linkng of grand oil paintings of porno to stupid danish cartoons and political controversy, the edgy descriptions of color and light, the obsessive searching for perfect lead white in spite of its banning…
and i can appreciate the art – but i am not compelled. there are paintings and sculptures, few and far between, where i could sit and stare for hours. have done so, feel compelled to do so. but more often i am drawn in by some essay here or off-hand lyrical reference in conversation, or some snarky review, and Want to want to stare for hours but can’t dredge the interest generated by the words from anywhere inside the picture.
i’ve been thinking lately of painting, and sculpture - two things which i find can move me at a fundamental gut-wrenching i-will-focus-to-the-point-of-nearly-walking-into-traffic-upon-leaving level. but i know them both in only an academic way, and superficially at that. i can visualize paintings, drawings, in my head. i am good at framing. i can write the pictures, all the way down to color and paint texture, and do sometimes to feel the catharsis, but have never ever been able to satisfactorily put them onto paper or canvas or wood or anything as pictures that look as i feel they could look.
i wonder if the two are related?
maybe words are trump in my cerebellum and the things which happen there as colors can only come out as language. and similarly, the things which happen in the world as words create such strong mental connections that the art objects themselves don’t live up.
that being said, i’ve heard the kara walker exhibit at the whitney is incredible, so maybe i’ll go see it before it goes away next week.
27 January 2008 at 9:25 pm |
maybe part of it is the joy of reading about what an author is really into? like reading about food i wouldn’t want to eat, but the author is so into it, that it’s awesome to read about?
i find i often am just as interested in the stories around art as the art itself, which may show my liking of storytelling.
27 January 2008 at 9:46 pm |
i feel that way about jonathan gold’s food reviews. he writes so incredibly, but many times, the food itself disappoints. not that it isn’t good, it just isn’t nearly as engaging as jg’s descriptions.
but perhaps if you spent more time making visual things instead of verbal things?
but then, i like your visual things.
i suppose alternatively, i would not mind eating more good food to ‘develop my palate.’ :)
2 February 2008 at 3:20 pm |
maybe its a literacy thing? we teach people to write, focus on it, even if it doesn’t work for a lot of the population – but we don’t focus on art the same way… maybe there are a higher percentage of competent writers which makes the likelihood of great and compelling writers higher? because you have to overcome a lot of cultural stigmas or exoticization or ____ to make art, to practice making art, because we sseem to think art is born but writing is taught?
the kara walker exhibit is excellent – there is still compelling art out there :)