March 14, 2012
In my first year, newly dispatched from art school, I adopted a mandate
to create work that was positive and uplifting. Bright, warm colours,
whimsical subject matter and lyricism dominated my canvasses. Other
artists my age seemed drawn to the same range and calibre of intention .
It made sense to apply freshly honed skills and learning in a way that
correlated with the affirmative gestures of creative activity. Below
pools of consciousness though, lurked an old maxim that whispered: "You
have to suffer for your art."
There is a prevalent belief that only pain, struggle, and difficulty will coax artistic genius to swim up from its guarded depths. The tragic lives of many artists appear to support this. I question, though, whether there is a misconception about the role suffering plays in an artist’s life. Many of us are quite familiar with the particular trials associated with creative professions. They include but are no means limited to, the relatively marginal status of the artist in conventional society. The challenge of coming up with ideas, of discovering work that we really want to do. Personal sacrifices in comfort, security. Self-doubt regarding one’s skills and ability to complete the necessary tasks for our projects. The difficulty of finding appropriate sources of funding, promotion and exhibition venues. Disillusion and discouragement that arises when discrepancies occur between our goals for desired success and actual achievement. Apart from irregular, spotty or little financial gain– disinterest, misunderstanding and sometimes unexpected harassment can result as negative feedback generated by our work.
Internal conflicts are equally taxing and demanding of an artist’s psyche and coping skills as much as career disappointment and obstacles. Artists manifest the rich inner world of ideas, emotion and spirit. In the studio, we have the power to control, revise, add and subtract, each according to our volition. Life is rarely so co-operative or facile. Stress and tension emerge when the sovereignty of creative practice conflicts with life’s vagaries, its abrasive reality, uncertainty and instability. For some of us, reconciliation between the generative quality of artistic production and the despairs of suffering become a life-long struggle. Recovery and endurance are often delayed when the causes for suffering continue longer than the time and resources necessary for healing.
Personally, I don’t believe artists have to suffer for their art; but they do need to stay open enough to feel, and ultimately, that does include both the pleasures and the pains. Nobody needs to go out of their way to deliberately seek out trouble, put their health and safety at risk, inflict harm upon themselves (or have others do it to them) for the sake of a good painting. There are enough custom-built opportunities in one lifespan for broken-heartedness to emerge as a given, if we are at all engaged in life and responsive to our experiences. Life involves suffering. The trajectory from birth to death will at some point, include anything from our own ageing, losses in family, friends and other relationships, betrayals, accidents, illnesses and the mysteries of chance and bad luck. The ability to feel is what suffuses our creations with depth, meaning and soul. But the receptors which allow the joys and ecstasies of inspiration to enter and guide us, also permit the sorrows. It is what keeps us human and makes the art we do communicate as well as it can to others.
However, there is room for artists of the 21st century to be individuals who have come to terms with most of their complexes and neuroses. Our visions and ideas are needed for consideration in the world, especially if they at all offer alternative solutions, different perspectives or insight into problems at many levels of human existence. To facilitate this, staying sane, healthy and alive is an asset. For some artists, this means finding another way to process pain, other than self-destructive or addictive behaviours. One method lies in the act of creative self-expression itself: art can serve as catharsis for both the maker and viewer. It is possible to address issues and move a little closer to relief by rendering strife visible with line, shape and colour. But persistent, repeated representations of anguish sometimes have a reverse, deleterious effect. Instead of understanding or even education, continued assertions of despair can maintain or reinforce suffering as the status quo. That may be the reality for some lives. Yet art also teaches, heals, and motivates through humour, beauty, and joy as well as identification. Some of my best paintings have been accomplished through both the debilitating provocations of depression, and the warm, nurturing security of happiness. Peculiar also, is the satisfaction and delight derived from completing work that actually deals with emotional turmoil as a theme. Due to the sheer pleasure of art-making, other artists have also reported that, despite personally raw or horrific content employed in their work, the act of mixing colours, organizing spatial elements and drafting images still allowed them to enjoy themselves. Arguably, this transformative relationship between art and suffering is the kernel of truth behind the cliche and, paradoxically, what makes it a myth as well.
In Memoriam: The Dragon Boy 1988-2012
There is a prevalent belief that only pain, struggle, and difficulty will coax artistic genius to swim up from its guarded depths. The tragic lives of many artists appear to support this. I question, though, whether there is a misconception about the role suffering plays in an artist’s life. Many of us are quite familiar with the particular trials associated with creative professions. They include but are no means limited to, the relatively marginal status of the artist in conventional society. The challenge of coming up with ideas, of discovering work that we really want to do. Personal sacrifices in comfort, security. Self-doubt regarding one’s skills and ability to complete the necessary tasks for our projects. The difficulty of finding appropriate sources of funding, promotion and exhibition venues. Disillusion and discouragement that arises when discrepancies occur between our goals for desired success and actual achievement. Apart from irregular, spotty or little financial gain– disinterest, misunderstanding and sometimes unexpected harassment can result as negative feedback generated by our work.
Internal conflicts are equally taxing and demanding of an artist’s psyche and coping skills as much as career disappointment and obstacles. Artists manifest the rich inner world of ideas, emotion and spirit. In the studio, we have the power to control, revise, add and subtract, each according to our volition. Life is rarely so co-operative or facile. Stress and tension emerge when the sovereignty of creative practice conflicts with life’s vagaries, its abrasive reality, uncertainty and instability. For some of us, reconciliation between the generative quality of artistic production and the despairs of suffering become a life-long struggle. Recovery and endurance are often delayed when the causes for suffering continue longer than the time and resources necessary for healing.
Personally, I don’t believe artists have to suffer for their art; but they do need to stay open enough to feel, and ultimately, that does include both the pleasures and the pains. Nobody needs to go out of their way to deliberately seek out trouble, put their health and safety at risk, inflict harm upon themselves (or have others do it to them) for the sake of a good painting. There are enough custom-built opportunities in one lifespan for broken-heartedness to emerge as a given, if we are at all engaged in life and responsive to our experiences. Life involves suffering. The trajectory from birth to death will at some point, include anything from our own ageing, losses in family, friends and other relationships, betrayals, accidents, illnesses and the mysteries of chance and bad luck. The ability to feel is what suffuses our creations with depth, meaning and soul. But the receptors which allow the joys and ecstasies of inspiration to enter and guide us, also permit the sorrows. It is what keeps us human and makes the art we do communicate as well as it can to others.
However, there is room for artists of the 21st century to be individuals who have come to terms with most of their complexes and neuroses. Our visions and ideas are needed for consideration in the world, especially if they at all offer alternative solutions, different perspectives or insight into problems at many levels of human existence. To facilitate this, staying sane, healthy and alive is an asset. For some artists, this means finding another way to process pain, other than self-destructive or addictive behaviours. One method lies in the act of creative self-expression itself: art can serve as catharsis for both the maker and viewer. It is possible to address issues and move a little closer to relief by rendering strife visible with line, shape and colour. But persistent, repeated representations of anguish sometimes have a reverse, deleterious effect. Instead of understanding or even education, continued assertions of despair can maintain or reinforce suffering as the status quo. That may be the reality for some lives. Yet art also teaches, heals, and motivates through humour, beauty, and joy as well as identification. Some of my best paintings have been accomplished through both the debilitating provocations of depression, and the warm, nurturing security of happiness. Peculiar also, is the satisfaction and delight derived from completing work that actually deals with emotional turmoil as a theme. Due to the sheer pleasure of art-making, other artists have also reported that, despite personally raw or horrific content employed in their work, the act of mixing colours, organizing spatial elements and drafting images still allowed them to enjoy themselves. Arguably, this transformative relationship between art and suffering is the kernel of truth behind the cliche and, paradoxically, what makes it a myth as well.
In Memoriam: The Dragon Boy 1988-2012
0 komentar:
Posting Komentar