rhyme on beuys

Man guys, I have to be balls-to-the-wall honest: I have a hard time understanding Beuys. A large part of it, I think, was due to my 3 second attention span--while watching his documentary I would continually get distracted by the 80s era special effects (as well as the random subtitles) and after listening to him for an hour, I could honestly not remember a single thing he had said.

“Only art is capable of dismantling the repressive effects of a senile social system that continues to totter along the deathline: to dismantle in order to build ‘A SOCIAL ORGANISM AS A WORK OF ART’… EVERY HUMAN BEING IS AN ARTIST who – from his state of freedom – the position of freedom that he experiences at first-hand – learns to determine the other positions of the TOTAL ART WORK OF THE FUTURE SOCIAL ORDER.” --from Caroline Tisdall: Art into Society, Society into Art (ICA, London, 1974), p.48

Ahh, but this! This I understand. I like that for all his strangeness, at the core Beuys seemed truly interested in promoting social change through a green initiative--that all of his work was used to finance buying trees, even making weird random Japanese whiskey commercials. (By the way, getting American celebrities to do commercials is crazy popular in Japan.) And while his work may be difficult for me to unpack, it seems like it was deeply important to him, and that he carefully and thoughtfully created his pieces. I can respect that. I can also respect that even though he completely fits the stereotype of a weird, nonsensical, elitist modern artist, he also truly believed in everyone's ability to create. Plus he seems like such a genuinely nice guy! Like he would be fun to walk around with and talk about birds or something. Approachable--I think that's the word I'm looking for.

Connecting Beuy's work to my own...hmmm slightly more difficult. Maybe because I don't feel like I have an excellent grasp on his ideas it's harder to find connections between us? I think we develop our art making in different ways, certainly in different media. In my own way I am making a sort of personal mythology, though with digital images rather than felt and tallow. I think he would appreciate photoshopping as a sort of art, however!

rhyme on strozek

The word that comes to mind when I think of Strozek is stark. Films from the 70s--because of the picture quality--always seem slightly washed out and bleak to me, the colors muted and dim. When we watched it the first time with Herzog's commentary, he mentioned at one point (when Bruno's home is being wheeled away after being auctioned off) that he likes to linger on a shot longer than most directors, that he purposefully holds the scene out longer than the audience expects. There is a sort of universal dialogue to watching films, and as you fall into the rhythm of the scenes there is this natural feeling of when they should end, how long a character should pause between delivering their lines and walking away. And man, does Herzog ever linger. The empty pauses as the characters stare out, stand still, as the scene rolls on and on and on...the reality of the situation is presented so bluntly. As a viewer you don't get to escape the uncomfortable through a quick cut--you're confronted with the character's shame, embarrassment, and disappointment as clearly as they experience it.

I don't know about everyone else, but this is not something I enjoy as I experience THE MOTTS quite easily. (THE MOTTS being, simply, the feeling you get when someone else is making an ass of themselves, but is completely unaware of it; see also "second-hand embarrassment.") It's far too easy for me to empathize with fictional characters--as a kid I read obsessively to the point where my typical punishment was to have my books taken away. The end of Strozek in particular was difficult, as Bruno became increasingly more alone. I'd like to think that the shot at the end was fired on accident as the turkey (his last friend!) fell off the ski lift, but obviously no one can say what exactly happened.

I think Herzog makes a stronger connection to me since his work is narrative-heavy, as my own is, which I talked about in my last post.Though I don't prefer film as a medium, I too would like my work to reach out to people in a similar way; perhaps you don't understand it, but you can sense something about it that grabs your attention, even if it makes you uncomfortable or mott-sy. Human connections interest me enormously, though I generally find the best way I can explore them is by expressing aspects of myself through my work. Maybe this will change as I grow out of my self-absorbed 20s? Who can say!

rhyme on herzog

I found Herzog's ideas to be very easy to relate to! He was very direct, which I liked--he kept it simple. Though upon viewing the commentary for Stroszek it did become clear (as J&J said) that he has a definite narrative to how he discusses his ideas and work--he said many things almost verbatim from the article, which gave me a really weird deja-vu vibe as we were watching.

Growing up on comics and cartoons, narrative is generally a part of my own art; I never seem to escape from it, even if it's only a personal one not obvious to anyone else. I think part of my attraction to Herzog's way of thinking is that it's clear he concentrates on narrative, even when answering questions. His words are concise, they flow together, they have a point and they come to a logical conclusion! This boggles my mind. I find it so difficult to do when speaking about my own projects.

I'm always fascinated when artists talk about their own influences, and that was most definitely my favorite part of the interview, the part that grabbed my attention the most. This quote in particular:

"Encountering Segers was as if someone had reached out with his hand across time and touched my shoulders." --Herzog on Herzog

I talked about this in my last post as well. That sense of connection between you and someone who doesn't even exist anymore, someone who had no idea you were going to exist--that's powerful. As an artist, there definitely is the sense that you shouldn't copy or imitate others, which--for me!--often leads to completely rejecting those who inspire me out of fear. But at the same time I feel incredibly creative when looking at other things, not even necessarily art related: design, music, family photos, weird things like the Animorphs books and my cat. Point being whatevs, haters gonna hate and I've gradually stopped worrying about this issue so much, and I definitely appreciated the time and care Herzog spent describing from who and what he draws inspiration.

warhol

I first learned about Andy Warhol by reading The Babysitter's Club #49: Claudia and the Genius on Elm Street, wherein Claudia decides to paint junk food, inspired by Warhol's paintings of soup cans. As a seven year old, my lasting impression of him was that he was an artist guy who was maybe dead? And he liked to eat? And he had to be kinda famous since Claudia knew about him and she lived in Stoneybrook, Conneticut.

My introduction to him in college quickly erased most of these ideas except the first--after watching several documentaries and interviews, I quickly realized that I could not stand watching Andy Warhol talk about himself. I definitely admired his work, but any time I had to listen to him I did the mental equivalent of plugging my ears and going "lalalalaaalaalsgldasgae3rh;'l". My lingering childhood self wondered if Claudia (who I worshiped in my younger years) knew that he was kind of a douchebag, and whether that affected how cool she actually was.

So, much to my surprise, this week I have learned something new about Warhol: I enjoy (or at least can tolerate??) reading him talking about himself.

"The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it's like watching television--you don't feel anything."
--From The Philosophy of Andy Warhol

When I read that, my mind (in its first-week-back-to-school sludge) metaphorically imploded. It's a weird experience to see a vague, semi-private thought of your own laid down on paper by someone you've never met--someone who died before you were even born. And as I kept on reading, he kept on making more and more sense to me, when in the past my thoughts on his ideas and processes have mainly been "uhhhhhh what is happening wait" followed by blank staring.

So! Andy Warhol. I don't want to fall into the trap of proclaiming I now have a better understanding of him, since I generally believe he was trying purposely not to make sense. I am somewhere in-between my first babysitter's club impression and my viewing of The Life & Times of Andy Warhol: Superstar. Less direct avoidance and more of a wary agreement to stand next to him at a party, but not actually make eye contact or speak. And maybe pass him a glass of wine or something.