It’s okay to laugh. It’s okay to make other people laugh. And it’s okay to write an artist statement about art-that-makes-us-laugh, too.
Many people have left comments or emailed me with concerns about my artist statement series. They say they don’t make “heavy” or “serious” art. They make art that is funny, or cute, or whimsical, or charming, or clever. So they don’t need an artist statement, right?
I’ve always said, if what you’re doing is working for you, don’t change anything.
But I still encourage you to think about why you’ve chosen–or been called–to make that kind of work.
And I encourage you to think about what would happen if you shared that reason, that realization, that insight, with your audience.
Remember when I said your art doesn’t have to be serious, but understanding why you make it is still important?
Here are the reasons:
1) It makes you step up to the plate and take what you do seriously.
2) Joy and laughter and sweetness are passions, too, just as important as more “serious” passions.
3) Your reasons for making this art, whatever they are, are still personal and powerful. People will respond to those reasons.
When I first started making stuff, I, too, made “whimsical” and “sweet” things. I made things simply because I enjoyed it. It was fun!
Then I attended a workshop for blocked or emerging artists. We had to bring examples of our work and talk about it.
I was in a tizzy. I thought of everyone else present as “real artists” and I was not. I just made stuff. There was nothing “heavy” or “serious” about it. Even if you could call what I did “art”, couldn’t art just be for fun?
But something happened when I was forced to really look at my work, to really think about why I made it, and then to talk about that to an audience.
Here is a reconstructed version of what I said about my work:
I make tiny dolls, only 2″ tall, made from recycled sweaters. I make small knitted sheep, too. I crochet small “pouches” on cords, so you can carry a doll or sheep around your neck. I also make small wall quilts based on traditional patterns and made with natural fabrics recycled from used clothing, so they really look old.
I imagined my body of work as something that would intrigue and delight at the same time, little “toys” newly made with old materials, giving them a timeless quality.
I used to think of these pieces as children’s toys, but adults are just as fascinated with them. I think it’s important to have joy and delight in our lives, so I guess in a way, I love making “toys for adults”–tiny little marvels, beautifully made, that enchant and delight.
Almost everything I make would fit in your hand. That is very important to me. I guess it’s so you can have these little gifts with you all the time, and take them out and hold them anytime you need to be happy. Because I want them to make people happy, and joyful.
I laugh when I look back and see how tentative I was about my work, even as I felt so compelled to make it. “I guess…” “I think….”
But in that first “artist statement” (because that’s exactly what it was), I can see the shape of things to come. I can see some of you who are familiar with my work, already nodding and saying, “aha!”
Small artifacts…made to be touched and held in your hand…carried with you as jewelry, as talismans…recycled fabrics and artifacts giving an aura of antiquity to the work….intriguing…connection…
….and passion. Joy.
Within a year, I was making an entirely different body of work, with the same qualities, the same aesthetic, almost the same story–but with a powerful message.
I began to make fabric wall hangings made with recycled fabrics. I made artifacts to put on these quilts; artifacts of ancient horses galloping through endless grass lands, their hearts full of joy and freedom. Artifacts that carried a message for us, that spoke to us across the ages, that told us how to live with more joy and freedom in our hearts.
I learned not to be denigrate how I felt. I learned to respect the reasons why I make what I make. I learned to really love and celebrate the artist in me.
I stepped up to the plate.
Does your whimsical art have to evolve into something more serious? Absolutely not!
In a world full of hardship and horror, pain and destruction, sorrow and sadness, there a profound need for art that makes us rejoice, and dance, and celebrate, and love. There is a time for being silly, for laughter. There is room for all our art.
Joy. Laughter. Delight. Silly. These are all part of the human condition, too. And they are just as important in creating a rich, loving and wonderful life.
There is power in joy, and laughter.
I am only asking you to think about that power, and acknowledge that power, and ultimately, to respect that power in your art, and in your heart.
Coming soon: How to get to that all-important WHY.