My first residency was something of a jarring, yet inspiring experience. I was met with a combination of criticism, support and overall enlightenment on the content and context of my work within our greater society. Following my 2008 graduation from the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, I struggled to reconcile my personal artistic taste and style with that which I was seeing supported and promoted in the art world. This struggle left me feeling frustrated and highly defensive. I came into this program ready to dig in my heals and defend my artistic choices, as I have been forced to do in the past, and yet after a mere ten days immersed in the AIB community, I have found my shell cracked, and my horizons broadened. This transformation and redirection is what I hope to explore more deeply in the following pages.
The body of work that I brought to this residency revolves around childhood, and the notion that we all too often overlook the most perfect small moments in the lives of the children around us. As a Visual Arts teacher to some 500 elementary aged children, I find myself constantly immersed in the lives of amazing young people. Yet I too often find that I am one of the only adults in their lives truly paying attention to them as human beings, not simply as a student, a child, a son or daughter, or, more often than not, as a responsibility. My goal was to capture these moments in small representational oil paintings in order to pay homage to the child as well as the moment. My decision to keep these painting small in scale was intentional; the idea being, that the size of the painting will force the viewer to come in close, and take a moment to acknowledge the moment being depicted. The size and technique also references traditional European Iconography, a tradition that I have studied and find great satisfaction in. The process of creating these small works is my way of meditating on, and honoring, these children. These intentions and modes of communication were quite clear to some, but not to all. Which leads me to believe that I need to explore new and different avenues while still remaining true and genuine in my stylistic choices and intentions.
I began this process believing that my work was capturing lighthearted moments in the lives of children that I love. Needless to say, I was shocked to hear my work referred to as being somewhat weird, eerie and unusual during my first critique with John Kramer. At first, I found myself feeling quite defensive. It was not until the end of the residency, after a number of other critiques, that I was able to see this observation not only as a compliment, but in fact, the root of what I had been attempting to accomplish all along. The observation was also made during this particular critique, as well as in others, that I was subtly playing with distortion and emphasis. I never intentionally distort an image, but I do allow myself to play with this aspect freely, whenever I feel that it will enhance an element that I wish to draw attention to. The scale of these paintings, combined with the composition also lead to a discussion on these pieces acting as tiny fish bowls, capturing the moment, but through a lens of distortion. This was particularly apparent in my painting of Talia, as she is, herself holding a small glass jar containing an ambiguous object [an egg], thus further referencing this notion. This was a fascinating observation for me, and one that I am eager to embrace and explore further. Another common theme throughout many of these critiques, was the notion of “preciousness”. John Kramer used this term in a somewhat cautionary manner; however after spending some time mulling over this interpretation, I realized that rather than shying away from it, I would like to continue to push this notion while simultaneously using it to juxtapose the underlying tone of these pieces. Lastly, the lack of background in my most recent work was met with mixed reviews, though largely positive. John, as well as the others, felt that the lack of background confused the senses, yet allowed for interpretation and the reflection of ones own experiences into that space. Needless to say, I will be continuing with this practice, while adding in a few key details to encourage viewer directed narrative.
My critique with Sunanda was a fascinating, if somewhat disconcerting experience. Sunanda was greatly concerned that I may fall into a virtual “cutesy pit”, painting pretty pictures of children; though he agreed that this is not what I am currently doing [it was merely a cautionary tale]. Sunanda encouraged me to think about how I can contextualize or frame these pieces in such a way that viewers will not approach them simply as, “pretty pictures of children”. It was recommended that I look at Jenny Holtzer’s benches in an effort to understand methods of controlling the viewers experience. He also warned that I ought to be very well aware of the use of photography in creating these works as it is creating a twice mediated image. Lastly, Sunanda seemed a bit put off by my use of children at all, as he argued that children, “have no agency”.
I had the pleasure of meeting with several graduating students: Rita Maas, Aaron Lish, Jenna Genereaux and Linda Fitz Gibbon. These were all quit helpful and informative critiques, though brief. Aaron recommended that I experiment with participatory art. I am very much open to this idea, however, as an art teacher, I feel that I can create this sort of experience within my own classroom quit successfully. Rita along with Jenna, greatly appreciated my meditative process in creating these paintings in honor of children and childhood. While Rita was drawn to the luminous quality of my paintings, she was fascinated by the line quality and implied volume of my drawings, and encouraged me to continue with that vein of my work. Rita also encouraged me to look further into the work of Gerhard Richter [whose painting, Betty 1977, shares many similarities to my work] as well as Alice Neel [whom I have admired for many years].
I ended this residency with two fabulous critiques from Deborah Davidson and Tony Apesos. Deborah was very receptive and encouraging of my desire to employ the language and context of Icon painting in these works. She encouraged me to look further into the work of local, contemporary artist, Ambreen Butt, whom I have been aware of for many years now, but haven’t considered recently. I have great respect for Ambreen’s ability to reference Persian miniature painting in a contemporary manner. Deborah also drew my attention to a recent Tufts show featuring Ambreen and several other artists working in the same vein called, “Illuminated Geographies: Pakistani Miniaturist Practice in the Wake of the Global Turn”, as well as the MET’s collection of Icons, which I hope to visit in the near future. My time with Tony was also quit informative and encouraging. Though he willingly nit-picked several details in my work, he was tremendously supportive of my stylistic choices and goal with this work. Tony argued that the use of photography in this case in no way diminishes the availability of the work, and that our world is inherently mediated. However he did encourage me to experiment further with a limited Apelles Palette, to see where the experience may lead. Tony recommended that I read Robert Rosenblum’s, The Romantic Child, William Wordsworth’s, Ode, Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood and Philippe Aries, Centuries of Childhood: a Social History of Family Life, all in an effort to better understand how childhood has been depicted and interpreted throughout history. In terms of artistic direction, Tony recommended that I study the works of Phillip Otto Runge for his early depictions of children at play, circa 1800 as well as works by Norman Rockwell, local artist, Karl Stevens, Katy Schneider and William Blake.
Concurrently to all of these critiques, I was also absorbing a plethora of historical and conceptual insight through our Critical Theory course as well as my elective choice, The Spiritual in Art. The first issue that I would like to address revolves around my choice of media. The question was posed during Critical Theory, whether or not painting is still relevant [particularly representational painting]. Furthermore, it was questioned whether or not painting can still effectively communicate with an audience that is, arguably, no longer literate in the language. Staniszewski’s, Believing is Seeing, presents the argument that Modern Art was based on the belief that we all speak a universal human language based on emotion and experience. Modern paintings like those by Mondrian or Lewitt were meant to provide metaphysical solace for the modern world through purity, perfection, harmony & balance, and yet they make abundantly clear that they are in fact just paint on canvas. So was this effective? The general public found, and still finds, this work greatly inaccessible. Similarly, Duchamp argued that by leaving works ambiguous he was allowing space for the viewer to enter and create their own meaning. I feel that we must strike a balance. I would argue that the viewer, particularly in contemporary society, feels lost when encountering something so very ambiguous. As a result, the majority of society feels as though, because they do not know how to approach nonrepresentational work, that they are somehow being left out or discriminated against, and therefor fear and avoid the work. I strive to make my work accessible to all. I want my work to feel accessible enough that viewers can willingly approach and contemplate the work as well as the message. The human form, naturally, is the most accessible image one could use, so why not use it? While I can appreciate the hypothesis that was set forth by the Modern artists, I choose to create work that remains tied to the language of painting. In referring back to Sunanda’s words of warning in regards to my paintings being twice mediated, I would argue that painting is in fact a more authentic representation of the world around us, as a memory is inherently more authentic than a video. Furthermore, I do not accept the argument that our culture no longer obtains the language for approaching, reading and interpreting painting; rather as a teacher and a painter I see my job as being to educate the next generation in this language, in order to keep our culture strong and well versed. I agree that this language has fallen by the wayside for a number of years, but it would be shortsighted to think it lost.
The European Iconography that I hope to reference in my work, was not always abundantly apparent to my viewer in these critiques, until I broached the subject with them, at which point I was met with great acceptance and interest. Though I have training in the techniques of Icon painting, gold leafing and egg tempera, I have shied away from employing these traditional forms and symbol systems in my work, for fear that viewers would assume that I am simply creating a superficial analogy between childhood and religion. My primary interest in referencing the Icon is much more about the actual process involved in producing this work and the historical reference to the meditative process used in their creation. I am also very much enamored with the idea that the viewer would be able to approach these children with the same level of respect, reverence and deep thought that we approach religious icons, shines or reliquaries with. In chapter ten of Believing is Seeing, Staniszweski presents Postmodernism as a recycling or resurgence of styles from history. Similarly, The Anti-Aesthetic presents an essay by Frederic Jameson entitled, Postmodernism and Consumer Society, which argues that Postmodern art is a pastiche of previous styles simply because there is nothing left to be invented. While I disagree with Jameson, that there is nothing new to be created, I personally enjoy the freedom I have in referencing historical styles in an attempt to inform my work and my viewer, and to more clearly situate my own message without having to start anew. I agree with Jameson that the Postmodern artist may also engage in creating pastiche out of nostalgia for a simpler time. I, admittedly, am drawn to iconography in large part because it so clearly recalls an era of simplicity; a time where things of beauty were created with ones hands.
While my fascination with Iconography might literally reference religion in my work, spirituality was an area that I had not yet truly investigated until taking The Spiritual in Art with Tony Apesos. Chaos is ever present in the world around us. Religion strives to control, organize, explain and mitigate that chaos. Similarly, the creation of art is often our individual means of achieving the very same objective. For me, the process of creating a painting is an effort to construct order out of chaos. Painting allows me to organize my world in such a way that I can absorb it in small pieces, and I hope to share those small pieces with my viewer. Beyond these somewhat obvious connections, I would like to experiment with the common language shared by religion and painting. Furthermore, I would like to attempt to use this common language to collapse the space between the sacred and profane; to give the viewer space and freedom to explore everyday issues from a meditative and spiritual perspective. William Blake proposes that there are four states of being; Eden, Beulah, Generation and Ulro. Eden is the fully energized, somewhat manic, state of imagination, engagement and creativity. Beulah is the necessary state of rest when coming down from Eden. Generation is the state which we most often occupy; performing the everyday tasks necessary to sustain life. Ulro is a state of complete selfishness, despair and angst. Generation in many ways relates to the profane, or worldly, while Eden maintains a direct correlation to the sacred. The symbolism used in representing the Madonna and child, for me, successfully melds these two states of being. The Madonna, very clearly represents Generation through her often visceral engagement in childrearing, while the framing of this scene within a religious context informs us that this image is one of a spiritual nature, capable of allowing us to transcend to a state of Eden. While I am not an overtly religious person, Iconography and religious imagery have always fascinated me for their accessible nature. Perhaps because these works are created with the purpose of communicating with the masses, with people untrained in the language of art. In every religion there exists a very clear language of symbolism that is very much meant to be read. However, I would argue that the language used in religion, in particular, is one that is able to be interpreted, to a great extent, by viewers regardless of their origin, socioeconomic background, education or training. Because religious imagery often depicts or references Generation, we do not approach it with the same level of intimidation that we might approach a Duchamp, Lewitt or Serra, rather, we are immediately able to access and relate to the image before us.
Lastly I would like to address how these paintings have been received in terms of their subject matter and tone. As earlier mentioned, a number of people found these works to be somewhat weird, eerie or unusual. It was not until Tony Apesos refereed to a painting in a slide show with the utmost praise, as being “weird” that I was able to revisit what this word implied. Tony used the term as a means of simply describing the piece as uncanny, or out of the ordinary. It has now occurred to me that my goal was in fact to make these paintings “weird” all along. I am not fascinated by children smiling for the camera, or sitting pretty for their school picture. That is how we all see them, or want to see them. I want people to see children for the unique, imperfect, often weird, little humans that they are. I want my viewers to see these children in a different manner than they are accustomed to. We often stereotype childhood as being a happy, sweet state of innocence and ignorance to the surrounding world. There are certainly moments of these elements in the lives of most children. But we have greatly generalized this population in such a way as to completely disregarded the experiences of the majority of children; the 16 million children living in poverty, the 1.6 million homeless children, the nearly half of all children from broken homes, or the over 400,000 children living in foster care. My work up until this point has attempted to address small moments that are overlooked in the day of a child. Going forward, I would like to further investigate these “uncanny” moments in the lives of children from a wider variety of backgrounds and situations in an attempt to draw attention to the overlooked, the children that we try not to see because we are fearful that we might have to become aware of our societies shortcomings. When I questioned people on what they found “weird” about these pieces, the answer always referenced the use of direct eye contact. My intention has always been to use the child’s gaze to engage the viewer. What I was not expecting, was how uncomfortable people were with making eye contact with a child. Many viewers mentioned the fact that the child’s gaze made them feel that the child was somehow more adult, more thoughtful or more jaded. This was surprisingly encouraging in that I was able to depict these children with a sense of presence, agency and interiority that people were not used to acknowledging. I have given myself the task of further researching how children have been represented and perceived throughout history through a number of readings mentioned above, but I will also be extending this search to include photographers such as Diane Arbus, Jill Greenberg, Sally Mann, Dorothea Lange and other Depression-era photographers as well as painters like Alice Neel and Margaret Bowland.
A very wise Stuart Steck once said, “Smart artists give themselves a problem; a question to find answers to.” Moving forward, I have found myself with a number of problems, and possible means to solve them. The problem that I strive to address is deeply engrained in our culture; we do not, as a society, see our children for the powerful, creative, passionate human being that they are, nor do we appreciate the process of childrearing for the powerful, spiritual and highly skilled endeavor that it is. My goal will be to investigate these issues through a number of paintings, that will address the topic of the unseen child. I will also be experimenting more deeply with the use of Iconography in order to create an informed and guided experience for the viewer. The end result will hopefully be a series of paintings that successfully address the topics outlined above, while simultaneously posing me with an endless new list of questions to address in the near future.
