Patrick Bryson
Paintings
© 2024 Essays written by Patrick Bryson and Gisli Bergmann
Let's Talk About Intuition
Introduction
The theme of The Coincidence Gallery @ Pictorem show from 11 Jan - 03 Feb 2024, is to encourage conversation about Intuition.
“Infinite Insight Integrator (i-2-i), the Quantum Supercomputer, first came online in April 2024. Things have never been the same since, when literally infinite computing capacity–the ability to interact with 256 simultaneous and different states of possibility, fuelled by more calculations per second than all the atoms in the universe– married with a new generation of AI that has attained advanced super general intelligence.1
It was an understatement to say that this changed the universe. One of the first, of many, discoveries of the i-2-i was the location of the mythic Akashic Records buried deep in a hid- den dimension of the universe. This was easily discovered by the non-localised capabilities of the quantum supercomputer. The Akashic records are...” 2
Bella Kandor, an unknown artist, switches off their favourite sci-fi podcast and looks over at their friendly Irish Wolf-hound, Jackstone Pollard. The two are in a cold, messy studio, late at night, surrounded by various half-finished paintings, and oddly shaped sculptures made from abandoned materials, collected during their daily walks around town.
A single bare lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, gently swaying, while emitting a faint hum. This lends an aura of fragile luminescence to the unfolding scene. The bulb projects dark shadows amongst the vivid chaos of colour that envelops Bella and Jackstone. A big clock ticks on the paint splattered wall, a witness to the silence between the two.
Bella is staring at their latest painting, pondering the complexities and challenges of being an artist and wondering how to proceed. They are contemplating their creative process, aware that it is way past their bedtime. However, they can’t pull themselves away and give up yet, as they are not sure what the way forward is and need to resolve this dilemma before calling it a day.
Jackstone: Grrrrwuf! What is happening Bella, are you OK? Have you ever considered how intuition can help you, and how it plays an important role in your artistic process?
Bella: [Nonplussed that their dear dog is talking to them]. Yes absolutely, It’s like that Walt Whitman poem, “Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.” 3
It’s about this cyclical nature, the way the seen and unseen interact.
Jackstone: That poem re- ally encapsulates the dance between reason and intuition, doesn’t it? So, how do you see intuition helping you?
Bella: Well, intuition is often seen as the antithesis of reason. But did you hear that quantum mechanics and new computing possibilities still need an intuitive mind to understand them? Science is supposed to be all about reason and proof, but where does rational thought fit with 256 states of possibility...
I think intuition is like this bridge between the conscious and the unconscious – between what I am aware of now, plus the pull of where I want to get to. It’s this invaluable tool that transcends a predictable line of thought, that draws from both intellect and emotion. I find that it can be this wonderful wellspring of ideas and solutions that open up and emerge, seemingly out of nowhere.4
Jackstone: It’s fascinating how intuition operates, guiding without any obvious proof or evidence. I recently read about Henri Bergson’s perspective on two types of knowing – one through analysis and the other through intuition. The latter allows us to grasp things as they really are, an immediate perception rather than relying on concepts.5
So, intuition isn’t just a gut feeling, is it? Do you think it’s a deeper, subconscious process that guides your creative decisions? 6
Bella: Exactly! When I’m painting without a clear plan, it’s intuition that leads the way. It’s this incredible flow of ideas and impulses that guide each action or stroke and this im- mediacy becomes vital to the artistic process. I’ve noticed it in my own work, especially while painting without precon- ception. The unconscious mind addresses unresolved issues, and solutions emerge almost out of thin air.
Jackstone: Hmmm… But isn’t there a risk with this intuition business? Biases, misinterpretations, emotions—surely, they can cloud intuitive judgments, can’t they? Like when you felt sorry for that other dog you thought was a stray and want- ed to bring home … but I knew from its smell that it belonged to one of our neighbours.
Bella: Absolutely, Jackstone, and yes, you can’t always be sure, so that’s the big challenge. Emotional “demons” can cloud our judgment. And hidden biases about race, gender and age can reside there unchecked, causing harm to others.
Our past experiences, emotions, frustrations, longings... they all influence our intuition. Sometimes, like tonight, what I really need to do is to befriend those inner demons. It’s not necessarily easy but I think I am helping to acknowledge them by talking, rather than bottling them up and rejecting them out of fear, pride or misunderstanding.
For instance Elaine De Kooning’s approach, surrendering to the flow of the subconscious in painting resonates with me.7 It’s about befriending those demons, transforming them into sources of energy and understanding.
Jackstone: You mentioned the gut feeling too. It’s intriguing how our gut and psyche are interconnected. I know that my gut affects my moods and thoughts. Do you think artists, more than other humans, tap into these physical, biological modes of communication?
Bella: I heard that 95% of our brain activity is hidden from awareness and our brain is not the only seat of decision making and processing of experience. The gut and the psyche share intimate connections. Anxiety, depression, and various disorders manifest in gut behaviour, and this relationship operates bidirectionally: ailments of the gut can influence one’s mental state and vice versa. Holding approximately 95% of the body’s serotonin, a well-known neurotransmitter in the brain vital for affect regulation, the gut boasts an impressive 200–600 million neurons, surpassing the count in a dog’s brain.8 Interestingly, the pre-
dominant neural traffic flows from the gut to the brain, highlighting a significant pathway for communication. Clearly, these neural networks aren’t solely dedicat- ed to regulating bowel movement. The system is far too intricate to have evolved merely for ensur- ing proper colon function.
Despite popular belief, there’s a deep neurological basis for intuition. Scientists call the stomach the “second brain” for a reason.9
Jackstone: Nice! Makes me wonder how many neurons are in my gut, probably as many as in a cat’s brain…
Bella: Intuition, in a way, acts as a silent advisor, drawing on this hidden knowledge, and guiding our creative choices.
Jackstone: I guess that’s where the paradox lies. Intuition leads you into incredible creative episodes, but sometimes you do seem to veer off a tad and get carried away. That’s when I scratch the door to signal it’s time for a walk. It’s about balancing that wildness with critical evaluation too, don’t you think?
Bella: You are right Jackstone, [chuckling] sometimes I’m a bit like a dog with a bone and it’s good to stop and go out to see people. It’s a delicate balance between letting intuition flow freely and stepping back to reflect on its output. But have you noticed how intuition operates beyond just artistic output?
Jackstone: Definitely. It’s that silent advisor nudging decision-making, sparking unexpected connections, making use of coincidences and guiding our choices even when we don’t fully understand its origins. I do that all the time because I am a dog and can get away with it. Humans seem to have trouble trusting their intuition, in my humble opinion.
Bella: Right, it’s that inexplicable sense of connection or the gut feeling urging us to take a different path. Do you think as an artist, I am more attuned to these modes of thought and expression than, say, a tax advisor? Jackstone: Not sure. I don’t pay tax! I have observed that you actively seek out certain affective states through your painting. It’s really cool how you do that, almost like setting up conditions for intuitive episodes to occur. It’s like spending time building a nest - then bingo! Intuition starts
to flourish and grow.
The bulb flickers and goes out, plunging everything into dark- ness. A deep silence settles in all directions, deeper and deeper. Gradually a faint light begins to glow.
Another artist’s studio appears, flooded by the golden light of a Mediterranean summer afternoon. Matta Shruti Isian, a successful artist is working on her latest painting. Gloriously coloured canvases and textiles adorn the walls. A longcase Edwardian clock marks the passage of time. Her wealthy collector and gallerist, Vincenzo Capitali, watches intently, smoking a cigar and drinking an expensive glass of wine. They continue a conversation on intuition that Matta is writing about for the prestigious international magazine ‘Art What’.
Matta: “like building a nest for intuition” 10 …That’s an intriguing analogy. When I get the balance right, it’s like intuition thrives in ambiguity, guiding me when information is incomplete, leading to unexpected and original twists.
Vincenzo: But there’s a balance, isn’t there? Reason and evidence are crucial, but intuition adds that missing piece, helping to grasp the essence of the unknown.
Matta: Absolutely. It’s about embracing both—using reason as a guide but allowing intuition to blow the bloody doors off and open up to infinite possibilities!
Vincenzo: So how does this relate to painting?
Matta: Paint can capture intuitive impulses, energies and insights. It can blend and capture both inner and outer worlds, sensations and feeling. Paint is so magical, fluid and malleable that the internal and external are able to mysteriously meet in the creative act. It is where the artist can miracu- lously play and create with their own inner being as the ultimate subject. This fuses the complex interaction between objective and subjective experiences, transcending the seeming duality of experience.
Vincenzo: So, what is the problem with intuition, if it can give you so much freedom?
Matta: Intuitively, having infinite choices seems beneficial, as it offers freedom and variety. However, when there is an excessive array of choices, this can lead to decision paralysis and dissatisfaction.
Instead of feeling empowered, artists might feel overwhelmed, leading to anxiety and difficulties. This counterintuitive idea challenges the assump- tion that more, or even infinite options, result in greater satisfaction and highlights how an abundance of choices can actually hinder decision-making and contentment.
Vincenzo: Go on... are there any more problems?
Matta: Now that you have asked, I can tell you that success and recognition as an artist can bring a set of problems that can arrest and derail the delicate balance and access to intuition that we artists depend on. That’s why I want to write about how to develop intuition, to help artists to discover, sustain and deepen their superpower.
Progress in our creative life can be achieved through harnessing both important leaps in imagination tempered and absorbed by pauses for reflection. Both of these are necessary for growth and development. This ability to grow can be matured through application, experience, patience and time. We can become more productive and we can develop a tangible sense of a deeper meaning and purpose to our lives.
Vincenzo: Go on… [putting down his glass of Barolo].
Matta: Another problem is that alcohol or drugs can appear to be sources of great energy that free up the mind and emotions - a lot like intuition as they have a visceral quality. However, they can lead to delusions and despair especially over time when the effects wear off, if they are not managed carefully.
Vincenzo: [looking sheepish, as he blows a long plume of cigar smoke out of the open french windows that Matta has placed him near] Hmmm, you artists are complicated! Do you think then, in today’s crazy world, intuition is given its proper recognition, or is it mostly within the realm of art where it’s really acknowledged?
Matta: It feels like, amidst information overload, intuition might be finding a refuge within art. It’s that voice questioning conventions, breaking free from external influences.
Vincenzo: I like that! So, would you say that trusting intuition is almost like tapping into an inner wisdom?
Matta: Absolutely. In the chaos of the world, intuition becomes a refuge for many artists. It’s the voice that questions, explores the uncharted, and sparks creativity. Trusting intuition requires ignoring external influences and turning inward, listening to the silence of our inner world.
Yes, and it helps us navigate this unknowable universe, forging our own paths forward and unlocking hidden dimensions within ourselves.
Vincenzo: Fascinating how intuition intertwines with creativity, isn’t it? How does a painter, like yourself, help and support the emergence of intuition in themselves?
Matta: Painters generally set up valued and special conditions, times, spaces and environments to create the conditions - both external and internal - for intuition to visit and guide them.11
Vincenzo: Fascinating, that’s what this studio is – a nest for intuition to appear!
Matta: Precisely, but intuition is not just a guide for artists; it’s the key to unlocking hidden dimensions of the self and forging our truest purpose.
Exploring intuition while re- lying on intuition itself is an intriguing paradox. It is as if navigating a labyrinth guided by an inner compass - one that operates beyond the conscious mind’s control and limits.
Vincenzo: Can you say more about how intuition opens this up?
Matta: Intuition is really just the doorway, because it leads to a more important phenomenon, namely insight. Insight is hard won and demands effort, application and awareness. An insight is the capacity for accurate and deep intuitive understanding.
Vincenzo: Very interesting…
Matta: In contrast to intuition, insight involves a period of incubation before the recognition of a solution to a problem or a period of creative output. There is usually the gradual emergence of a pattern associated with the birth of an insight, as the solution or idea becomes more and more conscious, culminating in the ‘aha’ or ‘eureka moment’.12
Intuition, in contrast, has been described as the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning, whereas insight, fed by intuition grows and flourishes over a period of time.
Intuition occurs instantly and is emotionally laden; it does not have the accompanying verbal, conscious awareness of the final stage of insight.
But intuition is the foundation and precedes the appearance of conscious insight. Insight can often be accompanied by special feelings but also a sense of depth of self that can be profound. The cultivation of the capacity for insight is a distillation of intuition and can be the foundation for the birth of self-development.
The light fades and the darkness envelops once again. Everything and nothing merge and become one. Peace descends and all thought and movement subside, as if they never existed.
By some unseen creative force, a new scene appears. A dimly lit studio emerges from the shadows to reveal the artist Orcard Mariner, who lies quietly on a chaise longue, eyes closed. Beside him sits his daughter Pippi Populace, holding his hand tenderly. An old clock on the wall nearby has stopped working and no longer marks the passing of time, as it once did.
Orcard is approaching his 100th birthday and has lived a chequered life dedicated to painting. He has seen many wonderful and terrible things and has weathered success and obscurity, over and over. He carries tales within him that only he could know and many that he could never fully understand.
He wakes from his trance and sees a sunlit hill hovering in the distance, but is initially uncertain as to whether or not he is hallucinating.
He sees what look like many sea creatures swimming in the water at the foot of the landscape shimmering before him. And he suddenly realises their true beauty, blessing them as he recognises that they are the spirits of his intuition, that have accompanied him throughout his long life.
Words vividly appear in light before him before slowly fading away…
‘The air is cut away before, And closes from behind.’ 13
[Coughs and hesitates before continuing…] Yeats explores the themes of spirituality, mortality, and the yearning for artistic transcendence, employing intuition as his guiding force.
[Pippi leans closer, attentive to every word.]
Orcard: The poem takes you on a metaphorical journey from the temporal world to an imagined, timeless realm represented by Byzantium. …This voyage serves as a vehicle for exploring the transformative power of art and the human quest for immortality….
[Orcard’s voice fades to a whisper] The poem talks of release... and how only intuition can carry us into freedom where reason cannot go… to embrace the intuitive pursuit of a place where art and soul are eternal…
Pippi: [Picks up the thread as she starts to gain her own insight] Yes, In the opening stanza, he paints a picture of an ageing society plagued by the inevitability of decay. Then the poet employs vivid imagery and symbolism to evoke a sense of ethereal longing and a departure from the limitations of earthly existence.
Orcard: [Closing his eyes] That’s where I am going now…
Silence settles over the scene and the light dims even more. Sparks of light flicker and fizzle until darkness once again envelops everything. They begin to fall downwards, faster and faster until all sense of time and space have gone and there is only the presence of infinity …
…without opposite.
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Footnotes:
1. https://ig.ft.com/quantum-computing
2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akashic_records
3. Song of Myself, 1892, Walt Whitman
4. https://philarchive.org/archive/ISEUUI
5. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/bergson/
6. https://www.psychologicalscience.org/news/minds-busi- ness/intuition-its-more-than-a-feeling.html
8. Iain McGilchrist, The Matter With Things, Vol I, p.679
9. https://hbr.org/2022/03/how-to-stop-overthinking-and-start-trusting-your-gut
10. https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2006/apr/15/familyandrelationships.family3
11. Saarinen, J A., Paintings as Solid Affective Scaffolds, 2019.
12. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3218761/
13. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rime_of_the_ Ancient_Mariner
14. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43291/ sailing-to-byzantium
...Perhaps, A Narrative of Possibilities
Introduction
The theme of the show Terrace @ Pictorem from, 5-28 October 2023, concerns thoughts on narration in relation to art, from abstraction to figuration, and artists are invited to consider how their work relates in the broadest sense to the terms ‘narrator’, ‘narration’ and ‘narrative’.
These essays consider narrative in a much broader sense than normal definitions imply. This show continues the themes and dialogue explored in the 2 previous shows – Terrace @ Karya 1 & 2, titled respectively There are no things only Relationships… and The Morality of Attention. Original text relating to those shows can be found here: https://www.patrickbryson.co.uk/about-7-1
The previous themes have bearing on the considerations explored in the following essays.
The first essay lays out a brief narrative overview of art history, to create context for exploring where we are today and then presents an interesting perspective on how to consider the purpose of painting, with the potential for new narratives.
This view of art history is highly selective and cannot include everything but is done to highlight how narrative (and narratives) have changed and adapted over time. The emphasis of the essay is to open up the subject of narrative, for conversation, and to view this from within the interiority of our experience rather than from a theoretical position, with the accompanying sense of detachment and certainty.
The second essay is a creative, subjective reflection on the same themes.
The Story
We are conscious beings... We occupy and travel through spaces. We exist in and experience the passing of time. Our brains – sophisticated, pattern-detecting, meaning-making devices that they are – love a good story, fact or fiction. We are wired to interpret our very existence as such – to construct a familiar narrative for ourselves based on external and internal stimuli. We may think we are objectively recording the passing of time and experience but our recorded narrative, taken from real events, also includes various contradictory, conflicting, unknown and misunderstood threads.
Science and Subjectivity
Science, for instance, tells us the human eye can detect up to 10 million colours… we are designed to notice minute changes and variations. Yet Joseph Albers observed that there is no single collective perception of colour 1 (we all see differently), and colours are realized in different ways through their interaction with each other and our eye.
Amy Sillman’s favourite text book on colour is Albers Interaction of Colour – as she states because it demonstrates that colour is not absolute, but is relational, dependent on the beholder…2
We record our experience of change, to make meaning, and we create stories about ourselves, events and others. We record this stream as memory and we embellish, we create, we forget. We erase and we re-member. We meet and share our stories and want to know and share what has happened or is happening to others and the world.
Often when we might experience chaos or confusion, we may attempt to find or impose order. From an early age we build up beliefs and preferences based on the passing and recording of our changing experiences and then these impressions create a filter or lens when we look outwards at the world or inwards to ourselves in every moment.
Some experiences or events we consciously and/or unconsciously reject and deny, creating all kinds of biases and potent attractors for our attention. Our experience as a result is populated by many factors as well as truth, including false narratives, ambiguity, imperfections, and doubt, and artists often wrestle with these ingredients through their work.
In normative Western narrative3, a causal or linear arrangement in time is constructed with the assumption there is an objective spectator outside the frame. But life is lived and apprehended not from an external distanced viewpoint but lived from within, as a kind of gestalt - an organized whole that is perceived as more than the sum of its parts.
It is more accurate to say that the present moment and the collective past are embedded in each other, and in the perceiving self, in a simultaneous space-time frame. This would be a different consideration of narrative – from within the story rather than removed or externalised.
Many of our shared stories underpin social agreement. Ethics and morals are constructed and structure our communities. Stories and histories were told and sung, long before the invention of print and writing. Some were sacred, some were secret, and some were sagas, which communities depended on for cohesion. Children thrive on stories and reading, and storytelling promotes brain development, imagination, language and learning. Reading and storytelling also strengthens relationships.
However, reason, accuracy and truth are examples of deep stories that are now cracking under the assault of time and the scrutiny of new truths.
Post-Modern Distruption
Post-Modernism4, (a term regarded as vague and meaningless by some critics) is largely understood as a means to describe the reaction against intellectual assumptions and values of the modern period in the history of Western philosophy (roughly, the 17th through the 19th century). Indeed, many of the doctrines characteristically associated with postmodernism can fairly be described as the straightforward denial of general philosophical viewpoints that were taken for granted during the 18th-century Enlightenment, though they were not unique to that period.
The reasons why 20th century artists abandoned narrative and started to adopt an adversarial stance derives from the first Western avant-garde, whose members were raised in cultures which officially regarded history painting (of Christian and Classical myths) as the highest Academic ideal. This movement began to explore non-narrative forms and alternatives to traditional narratives or methods of working. In doing so instigating a complex anti-narrative agenda for twentieth century art. 4
Post-Modernism has given birth to the term Global Majority and continues to challenge the imbalances of dominant power structures and bias. The term was used as early as 2003 as a way to challenge the normativity of a white majority or Eurocentric perspective.
Continuing through the 20th century, an emphasis on form began to take over the previous focus on narrative. Abstract art proliferated. Formalism emphasises the way it is made and its purely visual aspects – rather than its narrative content or its relationship to the visible world. Formalism as a critical stance came into being in response to impressionism and post-impressionism (especially the painting of Cézanne) in which unprecedented emphasis was placed on the purely visual aspects of the work.5
Abstraction
After the 2nd world war in the USA Abstract Expressionism exploded.
From MOMA:
…through exploration of gesture, line, shape, and colour, many Abstract Expressionist artists hoped to evoke strong emotional reactions. Their grand scale created an overwhelming and, for some, almost religious viewing experience. Mark Rothko famously said that his paintings should be viewed from a distance of 18 inches, perhaps to dominate the viewer’s field of vision and thus create a feeling of contemplation and transcendence.
Some critics, such as Robert Rosenblum, considered Abstract Expressionism’s interest in the sublime to be a continuation of the ideals of the Romantics. Romanticism was an artistic and literary movement that emerged towards the end of the 18th century and emphasised the aesthetic experience and the emotions it evoked.
In 1948, Barnett Newman wrote an essay
titled The Sublime is Now, in which he asserted that America is where artists were finally achieving the sublime: Instead of making cathedrals out of Christ, man, or ‘life,’ we are making it out of ourselves, out of our own feelings. 6
Changing Forms
As story diminished in importance in 20th century art, preoccupations with form, with the manner of depiction continued to take over as the motive for new artforms.
Another example of changing narrative is 1960’s Minimalism, which is defined by a literal and objective approach to extreme simplicity, stripping away detail, ego, and external narrative completely. Minimalism or minimalist art can be seen as extending the abstract idea that art should have its own reality and not be an imitation of some other thing.
At the same time, a powerful counter-narrative emerged that is concerned with representing, deconstructing and exploring forgotten, repressed or untold narratives. In June 2020 when John Cassidy’s statue of Edward Colston was dramatically torn down in Bristol, during a Black Lives Matter protest, it was thrown into the River Avon.
This was one moment of collective reckoning with the story of our colonial past. Ironically the torn down, defaced and paint-splattered object was put on display alongside a selection of placards from the protest – transformed into a new narrative.
These are just some examples of how narratives in and through art have been rejected, upended and reconfigured. As artists increasingly occupy a non-literal approach and narrative as content loses relevance, the overall narrative changes.
Information Overload
The inundation of information in the digital age, in spite of the many advantages it brings, can paradoxically lead to a shallower understanding of the narrative of history. Attention spans dwindle, and superficial knowledge often replaces a profound understanding of historical events. Fake news has become a fact of life. The term has entered every-day language, and we use it to distinguish between truth and fiction. These disruptions can easily disconnect us from the past and hinder our ability to appreciate the lessons it offers, potentially leading to the repetition of past mistakes.
In response to this overwhelm in information – fake or otherwise, art is veering creatively in all directions. Figuration in painting becomes fashionable again with a resurging popularity of figures. Some critics believe that figurative art that makes clearer reference to the real world may help us feel more grounded in a challenging era.
Bad Painting, for example the work of Neo-Expressionist Julian Schnabel, appeared in the 70’s. This trend in painting, emphasising an exhausted mediocrity, has been dubbed zombie figuration.
Deliberate Bad figurative painting is a renunciation of art’s radical avant-garde potential, but also of traditional ideas of sublime and transcendental beauty. Often many of these forms end up communicating a cynicism and disturbed view of humanity.7
Even so, this return to figuration was a welcome relief from the process-based abstraction that critic Walter Robinson memorably dubbed zombie formalism. Then in 2014 a strain of quasi surrealist figuration started to emerge that seemed especially suited to the chaos of the digital age. Bizarre, provocative, mash ups snatched from art-history, fraught with meaning; collapsed divisions between male and female, analog and digital, real and unreal and with idiosyncratic, even cruel, depictions of our conflicted world.
In the past few years we have also seen what has been dubbed Hypersentimentalism - figurative painting, heavily influenced by Instagram culture, which focuses on personal feeling, irony, niche knowledge and micro-communities. Feeeeeling – with a capital F! It follows an “IYKYK” logic (which stands for if you know, you know) playing heavily on being
in the know - on the inside with the accompanying FOMO
(fear of missing out).8
Then, the 2022 Whitney Biennial took another sharp turn towards abstraction and a language of opacity, making demands of the audience to invest in artists’ backstories.
The themes running through the show were ambiguity, uncertainty, and a sensitivity to openness
The Next Chapter
So, where does this leave us as grander historical narratives have given way to cynicism and a multiplicity of clashing possibilities that do not fit into tidy stories. Times have changed as explained by Kat Siegel, an American Art historian and Curator In other words, there is no historical imperative, no moral superiority, no necessity, to any one possibility for painting. 9
New Ideas
Post humanism, new materialist and other contemporary theoretical discourses attempt to address the imbalances tearing at culture and they offer new forms of thinking that examine what it means to be human, critically questioning the concept of the human in light of current cultural and historical contexts. These theories and ideals, backed up by physics, biology and ecology, point to a living, interconnected world, where matter is also alive, valued and honoured, not dead and prone to exploitation in a disconnected materialistic paradigm.10
Related to these ideas, in the art world, is an interesting narrative brought to light by Amy Sillman, Jacqueline Humpries, Laura Owens, and Charline Von Heyl, all female artists, who relate their experiences as they studied under male abstract expressionists in the 70’s and beyond, at a time when to paint at all was seen as an artistic failure.
Text that follows is taken from: Statements of Intent – the art of Jacqueline Humphries, Laura Owens, Amy Sillman and Charline Von Heyl - Artforum International. 11
In relation to abstract painting Sillman states: There is a certain ‘transgressive’ goal in trying to exploit a collapsed and forbidden terrain (AbEx - Abstract Expressionism) in order to open it up, de-mythologize, exploit and change it for new people’s use. At the time it was basically like trespassing.
Charline von Heyl stated that during the late 1980s and early ’90s, she was around artists who are lionized these days: Martin Kippenberger, Sigmar Polke, Albert Oehlan, and Immendorf. The German art scene was, as she’s put it, “heavily male, very jokey, with an ironic stance toward painting. Anarchistic and also quite arrogant.”
As an antidote to Neo-Expressionism, there “was irony, mostly in the form of really stupid jokes.”
Sillman gradually developed a different language – a deployment of related (male) gestural modes, “but in such a way as to indicate a kind of hesitancy about its use. Each of her strokes reveals itself not as the final masterful decision but as just one more application on a surface already covered with other strokes, which you can see behind to the last one.
There was a departure from the authentic gesture of mid-century and the emptied postmodern gesture. Instead, canvases are populated by uncertain, fake, or unlocatable gestures. And where we find “real” drips or passages of firm brushwork, we find it impossible to read them as we once did. Meaning is thrown back onto the viewer as the artists’ own subjective investments in their decisions around paint handling become indeterminate and unknowable.
They are all well aware that the notion of the painting as a “living thing” has previously been dismissed as an absurd, romantic cliché, but nevertheless say that they get to a point where the painting begins to appear to them as an entity that makes calls on them, that might irritate them, surprise them, confuse them”. Von Heyl is clearest: “I don’t want to make the painting, I want the painting to invent itself and surprise me.
There is a term or idea that recurs in their accounts, and that is unknowability.” Humphries says, “I have to destroy the painting I know to make the one I don’t know yet.” Sillman has said, “Making paintings for me is liminal: not quite-known, coming-into-being, not-yet-seen, being-remembered.” Von Heyl phrases it thus:
“I can get beyond [design] only in the unknown.”
“I can force myself into that concentrated mindspace that is just looking and goes beyond thinking.” Owens makes a similar point when she speaks of her refusal to “language” her work—the word language, repurposed as a verb, referencing an exhaustive thinking-through of each decision, so that refusal to “language” is a kind of refusal to know, or to know too much.
Such invocations of unknowability could be caricatured as so many New Age bromides, but we would be wrong to characterize them in this way. For a start, the unknowable has a new premium in a culture that prides itself on being able to know everything via instant access (constitutional or not) to massive troves of information. The language of the unknowable also resonates with Eva Hesse’s claim that she wanted to get to “what is yet not known.”
Helen Molesworth, for one, had already pushed for the term unknowability in a 2013 essay on Sillman: “For me, feminism is a critique of power and mastery, and most of all it’s a warning about how the combination of mastery and power has, historically, led to violence. One result of this questioning of power is that unknowability emerges as a kind of virtue.”
What seems astonishing, and what may be the generative paradox at the heart of these practices, is the fact that each painter harnesses unknowability as an essential part of making art, but at the same time brings to her practice a profound knowledge of how to make, and fake, marks on canvas, how to navigate the histories and associations of those marks and control what impact they might have on viewers.
Unknowability in Action
Many artists in a similar fashion to the quoted references above, today are passionately committed to working away in solitude, in a purely intuitive way, having relinquished the need to tell any story, to not need to fully comprehend or to label what they have found and are perfectly happy to release their work into the world, where it is left in the hands of the viewer - the Narrator, to interpret and create story.
The narrative of style as description and classification of art is no longer relevant and has been called into question. Instead what is being acknowledged are more complex languages and structures that are taking shape in culture and painting based around self-awareness, considerations of body, interiority and relationships, all occurring in an interconnected, interdependent world, rather than focussing on externalised, formalist, elitist questions from a purely male dominated culture. What is fascinating is that this perspective makes more available for the participation of the viewer, and brings a freshness and continuity to painting, as new themes and values come into view.
A thread can be appreciated that runs from the artists creativity, through the making of the work to the viewer, who then brings the work alive, within their own life – this dynamic can all be seen within the larger whole - an interconnected ultimately, dynamic, creative universe.
Supporting this is another ingredient worthy of consideration found in the research undertaken by Jussi Antti Saarinen, at the University of Jyvaskyla, Finland which also points us inwards to ask Why do painters paint? Amongst other observations he reports meaningful experiences called Oceanic Feeling which many artists describe being generated through their process of art making. 13
The oceanic feeling is a frequent topic of discussion in both creativity research and aesthetics. Characterized by a sensation of self-boundary dissolution, the feeling has been reported to involve experiences of fusion with various objects, including works of art.
...I discuss the oceanic feeling in the specific context of painterly creativity. I begin by arguing that the oceanic feeling cannot be classified as an emotion, mood, or bodily feeling, in the established definitions of these terms.
A closer look at writings on both artistic creativity and aesthetic experience suggests that these kinds of feelings may be fairly common. As expected, the concepts and tropes used to describe such experiences are rich and varied. Even so, the depictions tend to point to a common experiential core. These states have been variously designated as “nirvanic, epiphanic, numinous, religious, flow, ecstatic, or oceanic” depending on one’s preferred orientation.
Abstract and figurative art can now invite viewers to participate actively in the narrative-making process. In the old model of narrative, as observers engage with abstract forms, colours, and textures, it has been understood that the viewer projects their own experiences, emotions, interpretations, even contradictions onto the artwork.
There is an additional way to approach the same scenario, with a call for consciously and directly engaging with the unknown and the unknowable in oneself and in the artworks – this requires contemplation – at odds with the 2.5 second attention span encouraged agressively by contemporary technology and fashion - then there is a molecular sense that only becomes through the body, as a vehicle for this form of action.
For the artist there comes a point in their development when they are at ease with the unknowable nature of this form of action, which then grows in strength, and a dialogue with the unknowable through painting opens, where the painting shows the path ahead.
Interiority and Interconnection
A new narrative is developing around this form of action and the reader can be party to all this though making themselves available and surrendered in order to view and enter the artwork. The reader continues to participate in the creation of the artwork, as the narrator and they continue to further tell the story that the work has engendered in them as their own narrative - igniting the question of where the agency of the work truly lies…fluid and alive, from creator to viewer.
From this perspective there really is no vantage point from where we get to be outside of narrative. What if everything is narrative, as the unknown, and narrative is in fact the structure of our consciousness simultaneously?
This participatory, living narrative aligns with the very essence of being human – the perpetual endeavour to find meaning and connections in the seemingly unrelated, inviting us to participate in the act of narrative making, transcending boundaries and connecting us to the essence of our shared humanity. Even if we decide or claim to deny participation, that is our participation – is it not?
We seek and make meaning. We can also (seemingly) contradict and deny meaning, but we do not have to be bound by any of it. We can discover, or know, what we didn’t know about ourselves before, and this is remarkable. That is our freedom.
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Footnotes:
1.~Josef Albers - Interaction of Color (1971, Yale University Press.
2.~https://www.amysillman.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/OG14_MoMA.pdf
3.~Post-Modernism: https://www.britannica.com/topic/postmodernism-philosophy
4.~https://www.academia.edu/16355199/The_Broom_of_the_System_On_the_Quarrel_between_Art_and_Narrative
The Broom of the System: On the Quarrel Between Art and Narrative by Louise Milne.
6.~Abstract art: https://www.moma.org/learn/moma_learning/themes/abstract-expressionism/the-sublime-and-the-spiritual/
8.~https://news.artnet.com/opinion/hypersentimentalism-painting-2315575
9.~http://brianbishop.com/navigating-the-gulf-between-compulsion-and-irony-in-contemporary-painting
12.~https://www.thestudiomanager.com/posts/amy-sillman-on-why-painting-is-hard
13.~Jussi Antti Saarinen, at the University of Jyvaskyla, Finland.
https://digitalcommons.risd.edu/liberalarts_contempaesthetics/vol12/iss1/14/
The Morality of Attention
"Attention is a moral act: it creates, brings aspects of things into being, but in doing so makes others recede. What a thing is depends on who is attending to it, and in what way." Iain McGilchrist author of The Matter With Things: Our Brains, Our Delusions and the Unmaking of the World.
(1) The materialist tradition in Western philosophy begins with Greek philosophy in the 5th century BCE. According to Democritus, the world consists of nothing but atoms in empty space…
https://www.britannica.com/topic/materialism-philosophy/History-of-materialism
(2) How East and West think in profoundly different ways
https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20170118-how-east-and-west-think-in-profoundly-different-ways
(3) “Attention is a moral act: it creates, brings aspects of things into being, but in doing so makes others recede. What a thing is depends on who is attending to it, and in what way.”
Iain McGilchrist, author of The Matter With Things: Our Brains, Our Delusions
and the Unmaking of the World.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Matter_with_Things
'Attention as a Moral Act' Iain McGilchrist in Conversations on Remaking the World
- Perspectiva series of dialogues with a range of thinkers and intro to Ian McGilchrist.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=YHUGuUhB1c4
https://channelmcgilchrist.com/matter-with-things/
https://thejollysociety.com/mcgilchrist-attention-is-a-moral-act/
(4) “The spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds his contribution to the creative act."
Marcel Duchamp
https://www.themarginalian.org/2012/08/23/the-creative-act-marcel-duchamp-1957/
(5) Simulacra and Simulations
Jean Baudrillard, Selected Writings, ed. Mark Poster (Stanford; Stanford University Press
https://web.stanford.edu/class/history34q/readings/Baudrillard/Baudrillard_Simulacra.html
(6) New Materialism
https://globalsocialtheory.org/topics/new-materialism/
https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/1467-9566.13265
There are no things only relationships
“We cannot understand reality by disassembling it and examining its parts.
The whole is more than the sum of the parts” - Iain McGilchrist - author of
'The Matter with Things' on why the world is made of relationships, not things.
1 https://iai.tv/video/why-the-world-is-in-constant-flux-iain-mcgilchrist
2 https://philosophyofmovementblog.com/2019/11/19/what-is-new-materialism/
3 For the discussion on agency, see p57, in pp49-57, in ‘Thinking Through Painting’, Isabelle Graw, et.al. Sternberg Press, 2012
Isabelle Graw: The Economy of Painting https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JDthDEcmAs
4 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Posthumanism
© 2023 Curated and written by Gisli Bergmann & Patrick Bryson