What is this?
I'm not often willing to comment on my own work or offer anything in the way of commentary. It is the task of the artist to create--paint, sing, write, sculpt, what have you--not to ascribe "meaning." This, in the end, must be left to an interpretive community, and ultimately to history. This is one reason that I stubbornly refuse to offer "descriptions" of my work, giving instead some basic dimensions and identifying the various materials that were used. So called "descriptions" always devolve into attempts to create meaning, e.g. "this piece draws upon traditional Japanese elements of X, taking into account the work of Y, and paying homage to the historically significant Z movement." While these descriptions do serve a purpose--namely to sell pipes--I think they're also destructive to the work.
The notion that an artist--any artist--is an authority on his/her own work is largely a 19th Century construction owing much to the theory of "authorial intent," and the idea that "meaning" is present in a work and must be extracted. However, the more recent aesthetic and interpretive trend asserts that the "reader" brings his/her own meaning to the "text" based on a given perspective--life experiences, cultural milieu, etc. In short, this approach--often called "reader response theory"-- takes seriously the ability of a viewer to see profound things within an artist's creation, rather than dictating to the viewer what they should be seeing. There are, to be sure, more and less "informed" viewers, but each comes to the table with a unique and valid interpretive perspective. When an artist--or the purveyor of his/her work--attempts to speak authoritatively about its "meaning," the interpretive process comes to a screeching halt and for most, its "meaning" becomes fixed.
The "Makoto?"
As an example, I once made a cavalier that I called the Makoto. For me, it was an homage to painter Makoto Fujimura. Several years later, I posted a photo of it to a web gallery. Upon seeing it, one of my collectors simply commented "Berimbau form." After a bit of googling, I found out that the berimbau is a musical instrument used in Capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian discipline combining martial arts, acrobatics, music and dance. Up unto that point, I had never heard the word. However, what I thought to be the "Makoto," was indeed a berimbau in disguise. Was it my intent to mimic the form found in the berimbau . . . ? Not at all--at least not consciously. Was the viewer wrong though in his interpretation of this piece . . . ? Absolutely not! The similarities are staggering, and in the end, the work is the work. I don't get to say what something is, or what it means, or where it came from. That task belongs to others.
The Berimbau
For Part 2, I will be discussing a piece I did several months ago, and asking some questions about its artistic merits. This piece has been called variously "odd," "brilliant," "hideous," and my favorite, "the result of a bad acid trip." Stay tuned.
Todd, your perspective is distinctively modernist and, with all due respect, very divergent from contemporary performing and visual artists working today. Not that I disagree with you; I think the most important meaning emerges from the audience. Still, unmediated art is often perceived as arrogant in the extreme in that artists stubbornly refuse to help audiences in their sincere desire to understand and appreciate. For most honest people, this is no game. This is no disingenuous strategy to trap anyone. It is a sincere and somewhat hopeful attempt to understand the influences and ideas that have fermented in the artist and helped bring it to life.
ReplyDeleteSorry, a quick post script. The above comment is not intended to imply that your stand on meaning is arrogant. I don't believe that. It is, rather, to point out that there seems to be a growing movement out there among audiences to demand that the artist explain what they mean. This is a real problem at times for all the reasons you explain in your post. Still, we don't develop audiences like we used to and many people are poorly equipped to make their own inferences and construct their own meaning. It's a thorny problem to be sure.
ReplyDeleteHey Neill,
ReplyDeleteThanks for taking the time to comment. You've teased out some important threads here, and I'd like to explore them further. You've categorized the perspective that allows the "reader" to bring his/her own meaning to the text as "modern," whereas such a view is decidedly *postmodern.* Perhaps this was merely a slip of the metaphorical "pen," but worth mentioning.
I agree with you that audiences have become more demanding of artists. It's a function of the post-modern era, I think. Information is available from multiple sources almost instantaneously and people expect it at all times, everywhere. I also agree with you in that most members of the audience genuinely do want to understand and appreciate what's going on. I agree with you even further that an artist who is basically unwilling to help does so, most often, out of arrogance. This situation, however, is rare, and not the one I'm broadly referring to. This may also be a function of the fact that I generally tend to move in a circle of artists, and you in a circle of patrons. Not exclusively, of course, but *generally.*
The phenomenon I'm referring to has more to do with laziness on the part o the viewer and a desire for control on the part of the artist. Regina Spektor, one of my favorite musical artists, is famous for her refusal to "interpret" her often puzzling lyrics. Her work is beautiful, complex, and stands on its own. Were she to sit down and engage in a discussion of semiotics, it would be lessened, full-stop.
Across disciplines, there is a common thread running through the work of my very favorite artists. That thread is a sense of wonder about their own work. Sometimes, the most honest commentary an artist can offer on his/her work is that it came from somewhere. The thing is, if you're really honest, you don't always know where. That is why an interpretive community is so important. It is often the community that explains the work to its creator. It's one thing to help an audience understand, and it's another thing to destroy the mystery that makes that work profound.
Unfortunately, some artists want to exercise interpretive control over their work, demonstrating to the world how brilliant they are, how many subtle connections they've drawn, and ultimately how complex it all is. Bah, I say! The moment I'm told by an artist what I should be seeing is the moment I lose respect for the work.
I agree with you that there "seems to be a growing movement out there among audiences to demand that the artist explain what they mean," but my point is basically that what the artist "means" is irrelevant. It matters what the artist *does,* not what s/he "means." It's challenging, I know. I've been on both sides of it, and it can be really challenging to grope your way through the dark with no road map, but I've found myself coming out on the other side as a better reader/viewer/interpreter because no one offered me the "Cliff's Notes."
TJ
P.S. Have you seen the new Tosca?
Great response and very thoughtful. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteI was referring to your point of view as modernist in that most modernists I know are just like you, reluctant or unwilling to mediate their work. It is a trait that I respect, even admire.
Interesting that you think I move mostly among patrons as opposed to artists; that's probably true now whereas it didn't use to be. My self view is that I'm an artist since that was what I was for so long. Maybe I need to recalibrate that perspective.
I've had the experience with artists where they will read reviews or articles about their work from curators, critics, etc., and be mystified about what they see attributed to them in terms of motives. They usually declare that these things never occurred to them - more proof that what you observe about yourself is probably true for many others, as well.
Have not seen the new Tosca yet....
Very interesting. I'm just a fly on the wall. ;-)
ReplyDeleteEd Anderson
Hi all.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I fully understand what Neill is saying, I must admit I'm with Todd's line of thinking all the way on this. While it might be helpful and, at minimum, of curiousity for me (personally) to understand artists' own ideas and reasons for expressing those ideas in their creations, I believe in their irrelevance to the impact on the viewers. I shouldn't have to like a pipe (painting, sculpture, song etc.) because the author is simply a nice person (struggling, poor, eccentric, fashionable - pick one). Similarly, author's ideas behind the means of expression are not important to me, if they require a detail explanation. Michelangelo's 'Pieta' in Vatican didn't need any.
Modern, especially abstract, art is different, of course, and when explained could be understood better. But would the explanation really make it better? Neill says "yes, it would, because many viewers today are eager to understand" based on his experience in the arts community. He might be right. However; I'd venture to guess that it would only make it better perceived in the eyes of those viewers.
To understand and appreciate art of any kind, one must gain huge amount of perceptive experience in addition to learning. No amount of artist's explanation is going to be an adequate substitute.
All of the above is just another arrogant opinion, of course.
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