nirak.net - Musings of an LIS Student

There’s a definite life cycle to art and writing, and surprisingly, the stages are very similar. I had always thought of these fields as so different, but I realize more and more that they are mostly alike. The phases one goes through, at least the phases I go through, run something like this:

First, there’s the idea phase. In art, this stage includes drawing in a sketchbook, taking photographs, or collecting odds and ends. For some artists, this stage includes writing, for some it does not. In writing, this stage may include journaling, starting blog entries (blog entries are often a great way to flesh out half formed ideas), notes jotted down on slips etc. For me, this stage comes in rushes- I will get a lot of ideas at the same time, and then the well will run dry, so to speak. I used to not listen to my writing impulses; I just pushed them down, saying to myself “I am not a writer.” Now I am more likely to record all of my ideas, whatever form they take. It seems like sometimes, I’m serving as a lighting rod, and ideas just come, and I wonder when I will ever have time to execute them all. The hard part here is figuring out what to act on, what has worth.

It’s all fine and good to have a list of ideas, but then comes the second stage, the execution. This stage is hard because it’s the most time consuming, it’s often not as fun as the idea generating sessions (though it can be), and it’s sometimes expensive. In painting, this stage can often have several false mis-starts - I might start several projects, only to have them peter out, before I stumble upon an idea that will stick. The execution phase sometimes happens when I’m low on ideas, so I dip into my storehouse and create. Sometime the execution phase is concurrent with new ideas. Sometimes the execution phase is dependent on collaboration - each party coming to the table with their unique ideas.

The execution phase is the romantic heart of life as an artist or writer. This is what we imagine most of the time when we think of an artist- spending hours alone in a studio, painting, sculpting, whatever. Or the writer, sitting hunched over their laptop, plugging away. The dread upon nearing completion of the execution stage is that you’ll enter the next stage- often the most annoying of all.

That third stage, for lack of a better name, I’ll call cleanup. However, I am lumping promotion in with cleanup, as they often go hand in hand. In writing, the cleanup portion begins with editing. I don’t know many people that enjoy editing, but it’s gotta be done. Depending on the presentation, the piece may go through several more editing processed by professional editors. If the piece in question is, say, a blog entry, you’re done. yay! In art, the cleanup process involved framing the piece, choosing how it will be displayed (although usually you have an inkling of this from the beginning). Unfortunately, framing something well is expensive. You can, of course, just throw the painting up on the wall, but this only seems to work well for large, modern pieces, so be careful! It’s easy to skimp on the framing, to say “eh, the buyer will buy a better frame anyway” but it really does matter. One way to alleviate this is to paint in a standard size so you can find an open back frame, this will likely be much cheaper than having one made. You can also invest in the tools to make your own frames, but it’s expensive, and it’s much too easy to turn out shoddy work. A good frame doesn稚 have to be expensive, but it will take time.

The promotion part of all this is usually just plain annoying, although some artists and writers excel at it. A writer will attempt to find an agent, or submit his or her book everywhere they can themselves. The artist will enter the artwork in competitions, or attempt to get into a gallery, or find an agent. Both the artist and writer can try to go the do it yourself route- either through a press like Lulu, or through an online store like etsy or a local arts fair. The part of all this that people don’t often think about, especially in the case of the visual artist, is how much self promotional writing one has to do. Besides cover letters that have to be uniquely tailored to each prospect, you have artist statements (usually one for each body of work), C.V.’s and, possible, press releases and other promotional material. Success could very well depend on your ability to do these things well.

Almost any writer or artist agrees that if you can get it, it’s better to have representation to handle the sale of your work, but as they say “nice work if you can get it…”

I had tried to include photography in this, but it really is a life cycle all its own. While it can start with an idea, it usually starts with an impulse. After you have a group of pictures, you cull through them to find the keepers. This revision process can happen more than once, until you have the precious few shots that are “worthy.” After that, you print, alter, print again, alter again, etc, etc. then comes that pesky framing and promotion part.

karin :: Sep.22.2006 :: Art :: 1 Comment »

More info about the exhibition on the Sheldon’s web site (also an MP3 of the artist speaking!)

I have a lot to say about Celaya’s lecture on Tuesday night, but I probably won’t get to that until next Tuesday. In the meantime, here’s my initial thoughts about the exhibition. I need to spend more time in the room, and this may be upaated.

Enrique Martinez Celeya last came to the Sheldon in 2003 to work on “the October Cycle” (see here and here.

(Read Celeya’s Short Bio here)

Celaya’s work often deals with a creative reinterpretation. An installation in a gallery or museum doesn’t mean that a work is done and finished, the work can continue to grow. In the case of “Coming Home” the boy and elk that are the central component to “Coming Home” were originally exhibited in 2001 as part of another installation. Dieter Rosenkranz bought that installation and generously donated the boy and elk to the Sheldon. Since the Sheldon did not have the other pieces (works on paper) that went with the original exhibit, a new installation was created with Celaya.

The effect is quite enveloping. I personally am a big fan of anything that alters the “white box” aesthetic of museums- the new, wrapped room is at once comfortable because if the forest imagery and oddly disconcerting. The pose of the boy is the most telling; he is a little awkward, as if he has not fully realized his place in the world. The confrontation with the elk serves to reinforce this. The elk is massive and dwarfs the boy, making him seem insignificant and fragile. The photographs of the boy in the ocean further illustrate his fragility and isolation.

The pictures of the woman in the room introduce another odd presence, and I am left wondering if this is a mother, a saint, and angel, a sister, a friend, or, perhaps, if there is no connection at all, just a presence that further sets the boy apart. While in a photograph hanging on the wall the woman is fully covered with makeup, the photo of her that is part of the “wallpaper” of the room shows her with no makeup from the neck up. This creates a strange dichotomy- if the woman existed only in the photograph, her presence would remain alien and separate, but having her “mask” removed on the wallpaper humanizes her. This human woman seems at once out of place and at home in this strange environment. As a visitor, I connect with her, and see her as an ally in my experience of the work- she is part of the room, but she stands apart as well.

From the photos I’ve seen of the previous installation of the boy and elk, I much prefer the current installation, which is, as a whole, more encompassing than the previous exhibition. The space at the Sheldon is ideal, in that it is closed, so when one is in this room one can more fully experience it.

As a side note- this is one of those exhibits that greatly benefits from a solo visit. While it’s nice to see the work with other people, it’s also distracting. It’s worth the effort to try and get to the Sheldon at some not too crowded time.

One other note- I’ve been trying to think of an appropriate soundtrack to the exhibition. I’m going to experiment with bringing in different music on my MP3 player. Silence is good, but it seems like there would be some kind of sound that complements the installation as well.

karin :: Sep.01.2006 :: Art :: No Comments »

Enrique Martinez Celaya last came to the Sheldon in 2003, and I got to see him speak then. He’s a great speaker, and I highly recommend going to see him and Dan Siedell talk tomorrow at the Sheldon.

I have a lot to say about his lecture, I took many pages of notes, but I just can’t write about it tonight. A lot of what he said really struck home, and reminded me of my entry a few days ago. He was critical of today’s art world (especially Damian Hirst) and art schools.

I really wanted to buy his book in the gift shop, but it was $60- which I may be able to afford come Thursday, but it’s going to be yet another tight month for me. What else is new?

karin :: Aug.29.2006 :: Art :: No Comments »

I’m realizing lately how much my education and worldview has suffered from my compulsive need to categorize things. It’s somewhat ironic that my foray into Library Science - a profession ostensibly about categorization itself - has started to change that. I’m not sure where it started, but the idea that something is “this *or* that” was firmly in place by the time I was in high school. In terms of college majors, you are either Art or History or English, not all three. The reality of college is quite different, especially in History and English majors. I don’t have statistics on this (though I will start looking), but in my (admittedly narrow) observances, an English major is more likely to have a second (or third, or fourth) major than, say, a Fine Art major. In fact, Fine Art majors seemed to be atypically myopic.

It’s not that no Fine Art majors get a second major, but it’s less prevalent, and it seems almost discouraged. When I was trying to get my Art History minor, I could not find any ready information about how to go about getting it. I had to ask a professor, who said it wasn’t encouraged (though she was glad to help me add it). I find this very odd since Fine Art is one of those majors that has to be about something. That’s why English majors are so likely to have another major- you can’t just write about writing, and even if you write fiction, or poetry, drawing from some other field generally makes the work more interesting. The same is true of art, but one often finds among Fine Art majors and professors those boring people who are only interested in art and nothing else. Someone told me a story of an art professor invited to a book club she went to- the professor dominated the conversation, and tried to steer every topic of conversation towards Art. How boring.

In art school, however, you are in a kind of insulated world, you submerge yourself in a world that is all art, all the time. You are encouraged or even required to hang out in the studio as much as humanly possible. It’s tough to even keep up with the comings and goings of the art world, much less trying to inform yourself of art historical matters. But making art when all you are thinking about is art is like trying to nourish yourself by eating your leg (pardon the gruesome analogy)- it might work for a while, but eventually you end up stunted and unable to create anything.

No one ever told me this. If I ever do become an art teacher, I will tell young artists first to get some interests outside of art. A lot of interesting art is that made by artists who are also scientists, architects, mathematicians, computer programmers, or some other profession. You have to have something interesting to say first- the visualization stuff comes second. Of course, this isn’t always true, as some art has only to do with the visual- but it’s amazing to read about, say, a color field painter and see how much they were influenced by history - and not just art history.

The more artists draw into a little cocoon of the art world, the less they are relevant to the world at large, and that’s dangerous, not only to the art world, but to everyone. People crave relevant art. Notice I say “relevant art” - pretty pictures, or even interesting pictures, simply don’t cut it anymore. At least they don’t for me.

I am optimistic that more people that don’t think of themselves as artists will begin to make art, and to make inroads into the cultural phenomenon and presentation of that which we call “fine art.” Visual Literacy is succeeding- I see it on the Internet all the time, myspace notwithstanding. People are learning to present their ideas visually because the Internet requires it- and it’s getting more and more effective. Many people today have the capability of doing what only a small percentage could a few years ago, whether it’s creating a website, or a flash animation, or a photoshopped image. This could easily be expanded to painting. More artists are interested in more than just art, too. I almost hope that Fine Art majors are required to have another major in the future- are encouraged to have another interest that they can then make art about.

In a way, I’m so thankful I got outside of the art world. I was getting entrenched; I had metaphorically begun to eat my left arm.

karin :: Aug.28.2006 :: Art :: 1 Comment »