Matter Matters

An artist defined by both scale and physicality, Anselm Kiefer made work that mattered to him, and ulitmately, art that mattered to mankind’s moral consciousness.

“This is not only an emotional process, it’s also a process that involves matter… what I’ve found over the years in going around and talking with painters or people who are more philosophically inclined, on aesthetics and so on, is that thinking is too free. I mean, boy, it’s like a spaceship. You’re like a space cadet. You can move everywhere freely. Boom! You can zoom all around… (but for ) an aesthetician and a painter, and I guess it’s also true with a poet and with a man who works with sound, is that the moment you use the stuff there’s a commitment, a resistance, where you’re not so free.” — Philip Guston

Matter — i.e. physical stuff — matters.

It’s why we have to be very careful how we conduct our lives. Since the advent of digital technology, we’ve moved further and further away from things we can touch and feel. Even what we see and hear are often mere fabrications — things created not by nature or artists but by machines and propaganda. We live in a world dominated by perception and illusion; our thoughts dominate our experiences, our minds rule over our hearts. Perhaps soon, we won’t even be able to tell the difference between information and life. This kind of reality is very dangerous for anyone but for the artist it is lethal. It’s the reason why this blog has taken such a long hiatus; I’m just as burned out by the overload of digital provocations as the next person.

The great sculptor Constantin Brancusi, seen here in his studio, always took a “hands on” approach with everything he made.

Now, don’t get me wrong, for I love technology and its possibilities for bettering our world. But the excessive amount of usage and constant bombardment of digital media is an interference to how we would otherwise experience the world. Our minds and bodies were never designed to handle this quality or quantity of artificial stimuli at this level of frequency. We need breaks between the sights and sounds of computers and smartphones. We need time to mentally breathe and let our bodies recover from its exposure. And as artists, we need the space and time to feel and foster our ideas and then, more importantly, allow those ideas and feelings to act against the physical world. To express, after all, means to “press on” to a tangible surface.

And it is in this interaction with matter — an action that implies force — that marks the beginning of creation. The writer is not a writer until he puts words into physical space; whether his fingers touch a pen or keyboard is irrelevant. It’s the contact that counts. Same goes with the composer, or painter or architect. The life of any idea begins only when there’s adjoining of human hands with the elements of the universe. And, like giving birth to a newborn, the creator must push that new entity into the real world. When we make our marks, the marks begin to take form. Life begins.

“The first step is the most important step.” — Zen proverb

Now of course, any endeavor towards an artistic renaissance will encounter resistance; our egos will always try to stop us from making dreams come true; creating causes a disturbance to the comfortable norm or status quo. But this resistance, which we’ve discussed at length before, is primarily a psychological preoccupation, an illusory force concocted to test our will and courage. Matter, unlike your ego, is scientifically and tangibly real and its resistant power is actually beneficial even if it brings about frustration in our encounter with it. Materials and tools have shape, form and capacity. They have their own characteristics and behaviours. Its uniqueness says “this is what you can do with me and this is what you can’t — at least, not without some serious innovation and resourcefulness.” In other words, matter is a limitation that challenges us to ponder the possibilites, capabilities and boundaries of our visions and ideas. If I work in oil paint, I must understand its possibilites for providing rich, deep or sensually lush experiences but I must also mind its tendencies to go dark, muddy or speak with a broodish tone. If I’m a writer, I must know the limits of words, knowing that they can tease the mind but can never quite bring about the immediate visceral sensations that images or sounds or touch can bring. A stage actor doesn’t have the luxury of a different take or re-do. And it would be poor form for a pianist to try to sound like a drummer. Uniqueness, in all its glory requires boundaries. This is why they must be respected.

“Sketching enables exploration of the problem of space and the solution to proceed together… a kind of intelligence amplifier.” — Nigel Cross, Designerly Ways of Knowing

Ultimately, the limitations matter imposes force the creative to define the world he is to create. If his art is merely a series of ideas, they are too free. They become barrier-less and groundless. It may have a jet engine but no breaks. We can’t relate to it because without boundaries we can’t know what world it is in or where things belong. Just check out any common science fiction movie that refuses to define its physical setting or characters; they lose both their believability and fantasy. But when the artist works with matter and understand its properties, the physicality of materials pushes back at him. It demands the artist to establish a very firm environment for his world. He makes a choice. He designs. Start a drawing or painting, and you are bound by the borders of your surface. The sculptor can not add to the wood block or granite, he has to work with what he’s got. This is a powerful thing for the artist. It stops him from just thinking and makes him do, making him respect the objects he’s making and the tools he’s making them with.

So my advice is this: go analog with your work, at least periodically. Use your senses, especially the sensation of touch. It’ll make you smarter, more creative and it’ll also remind you that there’s a world out there that’s not just in your head (or on a screen). And, you just might find life fun again too.

“People should talk less and draw more.” — Goethe

Art’s Purpose

Two great artists — Leo Tolstoy and Ilya Repin — sit together. One the writer, the other the painter, each a devotee to the highest cause of his art.

“Art is not, as the metaphysicians say, the manifestation of some mysterious idea of beauty or God; it is not, as the aesthetical physiologists say, a game in which man lets off his excess of stored-up energy; it is not the expression of man’s emotions by external signs; it is not the production of pleasing objects; and, above all, it is not pleasure; but it is a means of union among men, joining them together in the same feelings, and indispensable for the life and progress toward well-being of individuals and of humanity.” — Leo Tolstoy

It’s not always easy to define what art is or what it’s for. To many, art is a luxury, a plaything, a leisurely post retirement activity to bide time or the mere idea of what we could do if and when we might be free from the burdens of working for money. But to those of us who actually make art regularly, we know that it is none of those things. And like Tolstoy so aptly stated, art works towards a higher cause, one that doesn’t just serve to satisfy our own individual whims but that of uniting humanity itself.

Documentary of Judy Baca’s LA project. Here, an artist’s vision and her actions have united an entire city in perpetuity.

Now of course art doesn’t always have to demonstrate such noble traits nor carry the burden for saving the world. But even in the individual pursuit of personal understanding it can serve the greater good for the world is ultimately a better place when its inhabitants are better members of its fraternity. The practice of art, with its encouragement of individual adventure sprouts authenticity and uniqueness. Life and lives become lifelong documents of wonder and self-discovery. The practice of delight brightens not only the practicioner but his audience. And we do need to learn how to be delighted; the world is so full of anxious complexity and violence that gracious uplifting joy is rare. Furthermore, the long and arduous challenges of being a true artist that tests him also grounds him. In sharing a common foundation, he promotes the big picture rather than stand apart from it. Existentially, it reminds him that to arrive early is not the purpose — skip the journey and we skip all the growth, understanding and fun that is life. It’s so easy to lose sight of this but quick success is short success.

Jean-Michel Basquiat was a wonderfully creative and engimatic talent who exploded onto the NY art scene in the late 1970’s/early 1980’s. Although his work remains powerful and valued at the top of historical artists, his quick rise to fame was met with huge psychological despair which led to his early death at the tender age of 27.

“The shortest distance between two points is often unbearable.” — Charles Bukowski

Art can also help us and others bear the hardships of living. Sometimes as reprieve and at other times enlightment, to step into a world better than the one that faces us. Inside the world of imagination arrives wonder and magic, things that awaken us from our stupor in surprising blends of the strange, surprising and beautiful. Art transmogrifies as much as it transforms those who involve themselves with it.

Miyazaki’s Spirited Away is not only a gorgeous dive down into the unknown and strange, but one that brings joy, love and meaning in its viewing experience.

Art is like a fire; it always put us into an active state of attention that directs our energy in positive constructive ways. It institutes a feeling of productivity not as a byproduct of goal driven industriousness but one that arrives with deeply felt meaning and worthiness; stated goals and targets are only starting points of activity. Furthermore, we feel very good about ourselves after a hard, conscientious day spent tackling our creative challenges even when we don’t meet initial hopes or expectations.

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” — Socrates

A still from The Disney short film How to Fish with animation by Milt Kahl. It must’ve been a good day at work making this kind of animation.

Making art requires intense focus. Focus is a powerful thing, it enables us to empty ourselves of ego and submit to the demands of the task. And it’s a great challenge to wield the tools of any craft never mind make art. Rather than avoiding our difficulties, which infers ignorance, art teaches us to face them. Art invites proactivity; you don’t postpone when you’ve got art to do. Making art changes our patterns of thinking — it alters the brainwaves. The mind goes from the distress of self-pity or aloofness to one of courage in action. We align with the only thing that’s real which is the now; we keep it real while also making our own reality.

The soul is dyed with the colour of its thoughts.” — Marcus Aurelius

Art, in altering our thoughts, is also a transformer of time helping it to pass nicely and worthily. It’s why the clock seems to jump when we’re having fun — we don’t want the journey to end. A healthy psychological hunger develops and we mysteriously find the energy to sustain our activities. We know this when we don’t mind skipping dinner when that great idea strikes or when we’re in the flow of creating. But when we invest in unfruitful things, time drags and we can’t wait for things to finish. Mindless energy expenditure whether it be job-related or escape oriented is often frivolous in nature and tends to fall into the category of “wasted time.” Meaningless activity — so common in today’s culture of commodification and ego enhancement — always carries with it that distasteful quality of abject disposability.

One of several iterations of Rodin’s The Thinker. Great artists like Rodin don’t make disposable art.

Ultimately, creative action is a positive multiplier. Art betters so many things; it keeps us active, productive in the positive sense, gives purpose, and provides direction; it brings joy, elevates our sensibilities, draws out intelligence, develops coordination and discipline; it grants and demands order while providing a path where discovery, growth, ability, experience, sympathy, beauty, communication, relationship, and perspective are gained; it even keeps us healthy. In a medical study on the effect of creativity on stress, it showed that making art statistically improved physical well-being. Here’s a short summary of its findings:

“Our main hypothesis, that there would be a lowering of salivary cortisol as a result of visual art making, was supported by the results. Additional hypotheses were not supported: Those with prior levels of experience with art making or who used less structured media did not show greater reductions in cortisol. Also, there were no associations between reduction of cortisol and age, gender, or race/ethnicity… Results indicate that a brief experience of art making produced physiological changes in most participants, indicating that art making can lower cortisol levels regardless of prior experience with art, media type, or demographics.” — Excerpt from NIH study Reduction of Cortisol Levels and Participants’ Responses Following Art Making.

Now, how can we not develop gratitude and appreciation of life when we make art? And with the power to bond the whole world through empathy, beauty and wonder, art is everything Tolstoy says it is and more. What it is not is mere utility or luxury. True art has always objected to being object or methodology and fights stoutly against commercialization and its associated propaganda. It rejects what writer Jeanette Winterson calls “the lie against life” and exists beyond the rationality of exchange transactions. Cave men made beautiful art.

For me, traveling along the voyage that is artmaking always reminds me of that crucial message from The Iliad (Homer’s Odyssey), namely that “the treasure you shall find will not be the treasure that you seek.” In daily creation — turning the intangible into the tangible and vice versa — we learn to live along the journey of continual birth and re-birth or, what I’d like to call genuine living.

“He who’s not busy being born is busy dying.” — Bob Dylan