Egon Schiele, Decaying Mill
There's a thing that bugs me.
Not that that this thing makes me angry; I mean it's a thing that I can't resolve in my life or in my head or in my gut. That bugs me. And this is it:
Music and literature move me in hugely emotional ways. Body engulfing ways; heart exploding ways. All the time. And artworks don't do that very often. Actually, I can't recall being moved by an artwork in that extreme reactive way ever.
I'm not much of a writer, and I'm definitely not a musician, but I am an artist. So what the heck is up with me?
Don't get me wrong--I love art, and I love looking at artwork. But what artworks do is seep into me over a long period of time, following the viewing. And I often can't let go of the need to see them again, or own them. I think about them, and feel a longing, but it is a much milder, and maybe more intellectual reaction than the emotional engulfment engendered by a piece of music I'm hearing, or a book passage I am reading. The search for an artwork experience that matches the intensity of a music or literature experience dogs me.
I'm curious--bugged is more accurate--if this is even a possibility. Am I searching for that which cannot be? Probably need to somehow quit thinking about it, but I can't.
Thanks for checking out this post--Your thoughts and ideas on this will be welcome.
I can change my mind, not my blood
--Teddy Thompson
When I read your post I immediately thought of this... BE the artwork experience that evokes an intensity of music or literature. IMMERSE yourself in the visual language. CREATE truly emotional pieces. Perhaps we artists shouldn't try to copy the experience of music or literature per se, instead finding the unique language of masterful visual art and learn to speak that language through our own work more and more. I know you already know this. As Tina would say, "Compare-initis will kill ya."
ReplyDeleteAlthough we look to other works to find inspiration and fresh ideas... there is a certain amount of navel-gazing we must do to find our own way visually.
I would love to hatch this out with you in conversation at some point. It is something I have not thought of (for some reason). Huh, for something I have not thought of, I sure have a lot to say about it. (red face). Thanks for SUCH a thought-provoking post and great illustrations.
Wow--thank you very much for your reasoned response, Miss Gladys! You (and Tina) are right of course--comparing the arts--or the responses they evoke--is surely asking for trouble. Nonetheless, the subject, its many layers, and your response, fascinates me. We have the topic for our next breakfast!
DeleteP.S. If a feeling is more subtle, does that make it less a feeling? If it grows on you softly and ebbs in ever-widening circles, does it make it less thrilling?
ReplyDeleteHmmm...I loved reading this. You are right, subtle as it is, it is still a satisfying feeling. And in some ways, yes, it is less thrilling, but do I require thrills all the time? You've made me question my expectations of artwork, and now I'M a bit red-faced :)
DeleteArt does it for me. Seeing Bernini's David for the first time was like what you describe your looking for. So was the Sistine Chapel and Las Meninas and several more. Perhaps it is because I studied them and wrote about them for years before finally being able to see them in the flesh. Maybe that anticipation heightened the experience.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your thoughts and your take on this, Chris. I'm very glad to know that art has provided this for you. But it troubles me to think that only a trip to Europe will provide the experience I seek. There is so much art here in the US--and locally--that I love and admire. Maybe the key to this quest DOES lie with the old masters. Confusing, but I remain open to all possibilities.
DeleteThis makes total sense, Tom -- but as to why . . . sort of just tour of reach. I was reading a book on French symbolism that touches on it, the differences in emotional-cerebral impact of poetry, novels, plays, visual art, music . . . I shall seek! I had done another sampling of Proust, who also gets at it -- memory, longing, imagination. Isn't all dream and involuntary memory emotionally charged? These states may put the person -- the you, the me -- at the center of an involuntary maelstrom, which perhaps are best touched in certain corresponding art forms?
ReplyDeleteThanks for your thoughts, Erik--good points! I think I may be guilty of trying to lump the astounding variety of arts together into "The Arts". The states they put one in can be as varied as the pieces that have been created--and they are not all created equal. Still, if you find out more, I am all ears :)
DeleteI've been thinking about this post for a few months now. I'm glad to come back to it and see the comments. I came to love art through books. My family didn't really go to galleries so much, but we had art and story books around. I loved illustration. It became as much a part of the story as the words. The art I love to see over and over has some sort of narrative quality to it. A gesture, color or composition that defines something within me, or something I've never considered before. I love the rush I get when something seems indescribably beautiful. I love a new perspective. The art I love takes up residence inside me, the same way a story or music does. But it remains in a quiet room all its own. It can make me laugh, cry or ponder. It can inspire a new way to tell or draw my own story. I love art that tells me things. I still love the intimacy of seeing art in books. Late at night, I like to look at books of art and images, or picture books, or collections of a particular artist, then fall asleep with the book on my chest. I feel like I'm absorbing the images in my dreams. I go back to some books over and over so that an image will be the last thing my conscious mind sees. I realize I might be just babbling here, but this was a thought provoking little essay. I wonder if making art IS the way your heart explodes over visual art. You long for something else -- the images that tell your own story. Then you are moved to create them.
ReplyDeleteWow--such beautiful and evocative words, Joy! Thank you for coming back and taking the time to write your thoughts on this. So much of what you wrote seems part of my own story and experience--especially the part about looking at an image repeatedly to carry it with you into sleep. Making art is definitely the most fulfilling part of my life's art experience, and I do love to go up into the studio in the morning and check out the piece I'd worked on the previous night--sometimes that is very thrilling. Since writing this post and considering what others have said, I've been more conscientious about really focusing on the specific artworks of others that jump out at me on Instagram or in a gallery. By restraining myself to not just leap to the next piece, I've had many more exciting internal responses and experiences. I guess it just goes to show that a longer attention span is more rewarding, lol.
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