Category: Discussions/Essays

Manual setting

René Magritte’s False Mirror. This innovative and provocative surrealist is really one of the precursers to modern art, making us feel and think about our existence, all the while doing it in a stylish way.

Life is too automatic nowadays; We work the same way, we think the same thoughts and we resort to the same forms of escapism to deal with the unglorious monotony of it all. And now that technology is making it even easier, more convenient and even addictive to behave in such automatic fashion we have to really wonder what agency we really have over our lives. It all seems pretty dull and empty and getting to the commonly expected desired end — more money, status or acceptance as quickly as possible — is hardly the fix. That’s because the ultimate end is death, so what’s the hurry? Personally, I find a life chasing, competing, and stressing to get all these things society defines as successful living is all rather silly, even terrifying. Why live a life in fear?

“Life is wasted when we make it more terrifying, precisely because it so easy to do so.” — René Magritte

Why have we become so automated? Why don’t we give each moment its careful due attention? I suspect because it’s easier, at least at first. Thinking requires effort. Stopping and actually looking and listening require effort. Our mechanical minds are always trying to avoid effort trying to limit the expenditure of energy that isn’t by a calculated benefit. We live too transactionally. This is a problem because it leads to kind of a daily malaise — a sickness of the mind. Instead of seizing the moment of joy, peace or opportunity, we live in the past or future chasing desire and running away from fear ultimately ending up without much genuine happiness or meaning. This we call success as along as we have the aforementioned gains in fame or fortune. It’s certainly not very original is it? This is the price of automatic living; it’s mechanically and rationally efficient but ultimately pointless and miserable. The only way to counter that is to turn off the auto setting and go manual.

Here are some things to consider on reverting back to manual setting:

  • periodically stop whatever you’re doing and actually ask yourself what it is you’re doing. Is there purpose, vision or even awareness? Sounds simple but people rarely do this, being aware that is, especially so in the midst of frustration, anger or conflict.
  • when you’re working, consciously feel the tools of your trade in your hand — brush, pen, knife or whatever — hover your skin over it, feel its substance and form, wonder about its construction and possibilities. How you think of and use your tools affects the quality it has on your craft.
  • apply the same sensitive mindset you apply to your physical tools to your craft. If managing colors, lines and movements are the techniques of your craft, be really aware of it, never forget ther are the foundations for creating expression.
  • depend less on automated tools designed specifically to save time and work. Everything comes in a package, what you gain in efficiency you’ll likely lose in skill development, resourcefulness and/or innovation.
  • listen to your body, especially when you’re working. If it’s tired, stop. Get good rest, return to the work later. Creativity can’t be forced.
  • don’t always work the same way and don’t treat each project the same. Ask what that particular assignment demands. Be true and respectful of the work.
  • Beware of any formulas. Defined techniques used over and over again might bring consistency but it also ruins any possibility of having any fun or developing an original style. Discovery happens in the darkness of not knowing.
  • ask yourself: do you want work to be easy or good? Go autopilot if you want your work to mirror the consistent “acceptability” of a fast food hamburger. Otherwise, make good art which requires order and effort.
  • vary your sources of reference and increase your exposure to different forms of art. Broaden your tastes. Mix and match ideas.
  • improve your tastes. If you want to make good art expose yourself to lots of good art. A good chef eats good food.
  • periodically resist the use of digital tools, photography/video or the internet. Pick up a book, listen to an LP, bang some drums around. Don’t let the smartphone/ipad/tv become your default form of play, rest or research.
  • remember to work from the inside out (i.e. from the heart) and bottom up (i.e. foundationally). Your work will have more structure and more personal meaning.
  • change your work setting. Shaking up your environment forces your brain to adapt to new stimuli and even think differently. If you want to think outside of the box you must get outside of it first.
  • watch/listen to things you don’t normally do. Get away from confirmation bias. Be humble and open.
  • if your catch yourself thinking too much go do something that makes your sweat. It’s amazing what hitting a heavy bag or running around chasing a ball can do for your tensions and focus.
  • design your life — YOU must choose what you like to be and do — otherwise your life will be “automatically” designed for you. Try to live authentically every moment, everyday.
  • sometimes, it’s best to just stop everything where ever you are and just look and listen to the sky, the water and the trees and forget about time for a while.

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