When you get right down to it, what I am aiming for every time I start a painting is the perfect marriage of the plastic elements of painting (the gooey coloured mud that I shift about with a fuzzy stick on fabric) and the concept. No, that's not quite right. That makes the whole thing sound very cut and dried. Just as the actual act of painting can take an infinite variety of forms, this "concept", the idea of the painting, can also be a very nebulous thing. Sometimes it can even be spread across a whole body of work, each painting building on the another or showing different facets of what a painter is trying to say. And while there is certainly such a thing as visual literacy and visual language (one tries not to mumble) if this concept could be articulated in words, there would be no need to pick up a brush in the first place, of course.
So- Idea and Execution. A good painting (and this really applies to any work of art) shouldn't favour one at the expense of the other. The most virtuosic, technical display of painting without the underpinning of some intellectual rigour rarely rises above the level of decoration. While the most laudable or interesting conceptual pretext won't succeed without good technique.
This is why it surprised me to hear comments made by Victoria Lynn, the curator of the current exhibition of video art at The Art Gallery of New South Wales (Double Take:Anne Landa Award for Video and New Media). Not once but twice, in an interview with the ABC's Sunday Arts programme, she declared that the viewer should look past the medium and concentrate on the ideas. I wonder if this is because the medium is so often ugly and half-arsed? Not to mention down right dull. I've seen the odd piece that I don't too much mind- the Bill Viola installation at NGV International, for instance is quite engaging. At least for the first ten minutes- my, it does go on, though, doesn't it? Viola at least has high technical and production values. Many video artists seem to think that if they stick any old crap on a loop that we'll all be falling about ourselves, amazed at their genius...
What I'm getting at is that the medium can never be divorced from the message. I may not be a great painter but I'm always conscious of trying to be a good one. My technical ability, my eloquence with my chosen medium, is what lets me communicate my intention. And while there is a certain suspension of disbelief required of the viewer (they are looking at representations of objects, not the objects themselves, after-all) ultimately, I sure as hell don't want anyone to forget that they are, in-fact, looking at a painting.
Perhaps suggesting that a viewer look past the medium and concentrate on the idea has some merit when ideas are the point, or rather the starting point, of the process. And who is to say that only those with technical ability are capable of producing art, worthy or otherwise? Looking past the medium allows art to capture and excite for it's own sake. Technique can be taught, ideas cannot.
ReplyDeleteOne can't help but think that you're playing devils' advocate here. Being in the arts yourself I can't believe that you think technique irrelevant, however punk that idea may be. If that were the case, instead of crafting beautiful headpieces you'd be content to send dances on stage having done just enough to project the "idea" of whatever hat was required. You could probably cobble something together out of cardboard, sticky-tape and a bit of glitter in ten minutes. By your reasoning, years of experience and dedication to your craft count for nothing and any schmuck off the street could do your job.
ReplyDeleteYou are right in one sense, though- technique isn't everything. Dylan, for example, doesn't have a technically great voice but makes his limitations work for him. And despite all I've just said, I wouldn't say that someone without training shouldn't make art. There are, after all, three types of art- good, bad and indifferent. Someone who hasn't practised and engaged with art over a long period is more likely to produce examples of the latter two.
It does infuriate me, however, that any slob can call themselves an artist. I would never presume myself to be a mechanic or a masseuse.