I’m feeling bipolar lately. My mood has been up and down, sometimes all at once. SAYING I need to rethink how to get my artwork out into the world sounds very brave and confident. In reality, I just want to hunker down and run away.Today, in between making horse sculptures for some stores, I followed a link to an interesting blog called “Redefining Craft” which you can see here: http://www.redefiningcraft.com/
I really don’t speak academese, so I skipped through some of his entries until I hit the one for February 8 entitled, “Art vs. Craft: Who’s Winning?” In this entry, Dennis Stevens posts two images, one of a Nike shoe on a stick, and one of a mask by glass artist William Morris.
Or rather, according to Mr. Stevens, “non-artist” William Morris. It turns out the Nike shoe is the image that provokes and enlightens, while Morris’s work is merely a hijack of another culture’s imagery for his own gain.
Wonder what Mr. Stevens would say about my Lascaux imagery?
Oh, well, at least it’s possible that Lascaux IS my cultural heritage. It’s possible some of my ancestors were French.
But I have to admit, I felt a certain dismay that as a craftsperson, I’m in danger of being left on the side of the high-culture highway for lack of having anything potent or portent or important to say.
Doesn’t help that I also recently watched the movie “Art School Confidential” which you can read about here: http://imdb.com/title/tt0364955/
It’s a movie about a young art student at college. He finds his beautiful work is totally ignored by his teachers, his peers and the art world while pretentious, self-aggrandizing crap is revered as “true art”. The kid eventually passes himself off as a serial killer so he can attain his ultimate goal of being a famous artist. (Because as soon as he’s arrested, his paintings sell like hotcakes.)
There’s one thought, and one thought only that moves my heart gently back to its rightful place.
I didn’t deliberately choose any of this (except for one thing.)
I didn’t deliberately manufacturer the message of my art.
Call me lazy, call me shallow, call me a clueless craftsperson or a non-artist. All I know is, ten years ago I felt like I was dying inside. And when I hit the lowest point in my life, I make one of the most important decisions of my life.
I decided to make the stuff that made me feel human again.
I tried a lot of different things and a lot of different techniques until I found the ones that felt…that resonated…the most with what was in my heart.
It just FELT right.
Of course I have great hopes for my artwork. And of course I want people to buy it. And of course I hope to be recognized for making beautiful things.
But I didn’t choose what I do to attain that. It chose me.
All the discussions about art vs. craft, about what makes great art, and who is a “real artist” make my head hurt. They always have.
In the end, I’m left at the end of the day with one question.
Did I make something I’m proud of?
And did I put enough of myself into it that it calls to other people?
And did I do at least one thing to get it out into the world for others to experience?
Okay, more than one question at the end of the day.
But these are the questions I CAN answer.
I’ll leave the more academic questions for wiser people than me to answer.