The Genre

November 10, 2007

Greenhalgh’s definitions of the positivist and ironic practice seem, at their best, to be barriers that have little importance in the success and development of the contemporary art scene. From his definitions, I can think of few artists that can be truly identified as one or the other. In the essence of art lies the need not only for the utilization and consideration of traditional aesthetic and material qualities, but also for the critique that will “intensify and improve human experience by questioning the role and purpose of things”. Even the most traditional potter has, through the planning and creation of their pieces addressed the question of function, innovation and purpose. Why is a question that is embedded in the most basic art theory and practice. Even in the positivist search for the sublime lies the potential for the “art of engagement” and “commentary” of the ironic. Infact, it seems that without the critique and commentary the sublime or idol of the positivists cannot exist. The distinction between the positivist and ironic approach to permanence and loyalty is fascinating though I would challenge that adhering to one panel of thought over the other compromises the range and ability of an artist to create a breadth of effective work. Loyalty to a material or to a practive binds an artist to the prexisting restrictions and cultural perceptions associated with it. Coming from an art school education, it seems that there is little place for work that does not either critique, improve upon or aim to challenge and redefine the cultural uses and perceptions of materials and practice within the art world.

Art and Fear

October 5, 2007

“We have nothing to fear but fear itself, nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror that paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.” Franklin Delano Rosevelt.

That’s the first quotation I ever memorized because I wanted to. Looking back, it would make sense that I’ve turned back to WWII for content and inspiration in my art work because it has been a strong influence and interest of mine since childhood.

What I liked about Art and Fear is that it distinguishes between stopping and quitting and emphasizes the fact that art is all about starting over. I often think that part of the reason I never expected to focus on art was because it was something that I had integrated into my life on the small scale–projects here and there. Creativity was never something that I thought about and art was never a goal in making. It wasn’t until I allowed myself to invest in those small “creative” studies that I began to consider art as more than a daily meditation.
“Making art is dangerous and revealing” (13). The beauty here is that that danger, that a personal investment in a work is a gamble. Making is an action that is preceded by much deliberation, strategizing, analyzing and at times hesitation. The greater the jump, the farther the fall. I approach art the same way I was taught to approach sports, school, relationships and life–Go for the gold. There is no sense in doing something if you’re not really going to do it. Life is 90% mental and 10% physical. Or so my dad always says.
I think what I like about art is not only the combination of physical and mental work but also the fact that the results of a project are both physical and mental. I love the sense of process, progression, possibility that ceramics offers and the many ways it can be used to communicate. Art stands beyond the barriers of language and culture. A piece is the product of multiple series of interactions that is meant to be interacted with. Above all, I agree with Art and Fear’s conjecture that “What’s really needed is nothing more than a board sense of what you are looking for some stragety for how to find it and an overriding willingness to embrace mistakes and surprises along the way. Simply put, making art is chancy–it doesn’t mix well with predictability” (21).

Persistence of Craft

September 21, 2007

I’ve never understood why “intellectuals” and “artists” of the modern age decided to draw lines between art and craft. I’ve always thought of the two as symbiotic, as being absolutely necessary to the success of one another. In my own work, I take the use of either word as a compliment. On an individual level, I’ve never adhered myself strongly to either the fine art world or the craft genre because I feel that it is a debate of history, perception and pretension. Inherently, I think of craft in relation to the tactile qualities of a piece: the texture, function, weight, mood. “Art” for me speaks more to the design or treatment of a piece, to the concepts and effectiveness of the execution. Execution cannot be successful without carefully considered craft.

What I am interested in is Greenhalgh’s mention that our societies current view is that “we are all consumers but few of us are producers” when in all actuality “many of us make things with creative intent…but often we don’t look at, consume, absorb or contemplate the works of others…” I feel that this mentality is apparent in our culture, that it is a lot easier to get someone to do something than it is to get them to truly study and understand exactly what it is they are doing. Likewise, if these objects of the producers are so influential in the way that common people see, remember, and become connected to people and other places than it seems a no-brainer that these objects should and do require equal attention to the aesthetic and tactile qualities it possesses. Above all, I think that Greenhalgh was absolutely right with his conjecture that “Works of art are not objects; works of art are relationships between people and objects. If the relationship does not exist, neither does the work of art…Art is primarily an idea. Remove the idea, and only the social class and economics remain”.