Most artists are not just expressing their own desires in imaginative ways; they also bullshit to get through that part of the art world that is superficial.
In a nutshell: I was born with the ability to draw what I saw in nature.
I had to learn to paint on my own being stuck out in the Mississippi boonies. I wanted perfection because I thought that all great artist painted with perfection and every stroke was a stroke of genius. I thought I had to paint every single leaf on a tree. I never went to a museum to actually see a real masterpiece.
One painting I did in high school, that I liked the most, was painted near perfection, at least, to me. A Dutch windmill in a golden hay field on a clear day. An art instructor came to town and saw that painting. He said I had the wrong color blue for the sky. As an artist with no art training. My first thought was that he obviously doesn't know great art when he sees it.
My first oil painting class was taught by the head of the art department of an all woman's college my freshman year. The teacher obviously knew nothing about teaching art. He asked me to teach one of my classmates because she asked to be instructed in dimensional techniques. He said he was tired of teaching the basic art techniques of the old masters. He wanted his students to throw the paint on the canvas. I told the teacher that if I wanted to throw paint on the canvas, I could stay home and do that. I didn't need a teacher.
Having taught myself, I preceded to teach this other woman what little I knew about painting. By the end of class, the woman finished her painting with pride and was grateful to me. It was the only satisfaction we both got out of that class.
During the same year, I heard there was an annual state fair that displayed artwork from all the colleges and universities. It was probably the same fair, that I never went too, when I was in high school. A high school teacher asked to entry one of my paintings in a state fair contest because she thought I had talent. No one thought it was important for me to go; only my painting. I won something for it, but I can't remember what. It had a ribbon on it when the teacher handed it back to me. I was pleased with this painting because I chose the art medium and the subject.
The same thing happened again; only this time it was not art of my choosing.
This time, one of my college teachers asked me if she could show an art piece I did for her class. It would represent the school. It was a class assignment art piece that I loathed. I knew once the public saw it, they would never want to come to that college.
At the time, I was a poor art student. I had to improvise by looking around my dorm for anything that could be glued together that would look like something artistic. My imagination was way beyond what I could actually afford. Our class assignment was to use glass, Styrofoam, yarn, pins, mirror and create something strange, obviously.
I had a partial glass box since I couldn't find equal glass sides. I trimmed the open side in orange yarn. Inside the glass box was a double sided mirror at a slat because my glass box was too small for the mirrors and I didn't have the means to change it. I split a Styrofoam ball in half and stuck it to either side of the mirrors, recreating a reflection of a whole ball on each side of the mirrors. Each half ball had pins stuck in it with blue plaster gobbed on top. The teacher wanted something creative and she got it. It meant nothing to me. A pile of crap to be precise.
The teacher wanted this unusual "piece of crap" to represent the entire art department. I guess it's true. One person's junk; is another person's treasure. Being always true to myself, I told her it was a piece of crap and she could have it and she did.
Unbeknownst to me, she saved it. The following year she pulled it out again, I guess; as I never went to the fair, Ever! I never saw it again. However, she cornered me in the hallway one day to say that 'the thing' had fallen apart. Could I please draw a picture of how it looks, so she can glue it back together again for another showing.
Where is Sotheby and Christie when you need them? Oh ya, I'm not dead yet.
Twenty years later, I took another art class. This time the teacher wanted the students to create art that affected the environment; much like the 3000 yellow umbrellas scattered along the California coastline; one of which killed a woman when the winds blew it down on top of her. I had never known of an art piece killing someone.
The teacher walked us around the campus to look at past environmental art projects that still existed. One was a large mound of dirt that a previous art student had bulldozed. The art teacher seemed impressed that it was large. Obviously he had not been to any construction sites.
A week later, there was my startling out-of-place environmental art, displayed in broad daylight standing by the art building. I could tell the teacher was perplexed; but by now, I had mastered the art of bullshitting my way through the art world. Just one more requirement to fill; in order to make it in the world of art.
As the group walked over to my art, one student in the group said: it's National Tree week; unbeknownst to me. I never knew there was a tree celebration week. National Tree Week 27 November - 5 December 2010
I knew my guardian angels would come through for me even in times of meaningless babble. The art teacher could not deny my piece was right on target now. Blowing in the wind with colors of red, white and blue paisley designs in a 1960's dress was my proud, standing tall, tree with a blue hat.
My environmental contribution was to bring attention to the trees by giving them the same visual status as humans. So humans would equate trees as a living thing that gives us life through oxygen.
The tree is saying: I'm here. Look at me. And they did. At least I didn't dress 3000 of them.
I think art is many things to many people. It will always be one man's treasure to one man's junk.
Something that is created by an artist, doesn't mean it will have value; unless, in the year 4010, that meaningless and worthless creation is auctioned off by Christie as a 21st century artifact for $100,000,000.00.
I already feel sorry for the buyer.
No comments:
Post a Comment