At the opening
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@plyusheviymishka
At the opening
Unfinished costume
Possible method for installation, interaction through photos
Possible answers from Bill
Is my art about my life?
It is said that all art is autobiography. In a sense, art is inescapably the product of subjectivity, whether it’s individual or that of a group. There is a selection, a nomination, a perspective.
Should my art be about my life? My experiences? My memories? My meditations? Me grappling with existence?
You might adopt another perspective - a set of values, preferences, tastes, biases - as a hypothetical narrator of a text, an art, a set of selections (image, word, material, or processes). Feminist writer Ismay Barwell argues that all texts/art works have a hypothetical narrator that is independent of any actual author. The hypothetical narrator is determined by the perspective that guides the selections for the text/art. She doesn't make a distinction between language and image, both are signs and interpretable.
Why do I need an answer?
You are not alone in asking that question. That is connection to a multitude of voices asking the same question.
Is there a reason? Is there a purpose? Is there an answer?
Is my art giving me an answer?
Is it fair to say that only you can answer that question? From what I gather, it doesn’t seem to have provided you with answers.
Is there an answer? Can I even find an answer? Is there a meaning? What is the question?
Does my art give me an understanding of things or only more questions?
Do I have a need for story in my art? A narrative?
From what you’ve told me, you have a story, a narrative that your art may need.
What is the role of storytelling in art and in individuality?
It’s long question, thinking about the way knowledge and histories were conveyed, individuals taught about the values of the communities, through oral traditions prior to the emergence of the discipline of literature.
Is my art trying to make a connection with other people?
It seems from your presentation that you have presented art to others.
Is it the way that I process my own story?
By making art? Or by trying to use the art to connect to others.
Does my art have a “punchline”?
I can’t answer that.
Why am I not producing enough for thesis? Why is thinking all that I’m doing?
Have you found a form that you feel is your own? That you feel personally invested in? It’s why I asked what you enjoy doing, or what you do when you are thinking. I have friends who listen to audio books when they make are because they are not thinking about the art. They are just doing with enough ability to multi-task.
Do I even need to make the work or is it enough to think about making it and how I would do it? Does there need to be a thing? Do I get enough satisfaction from just having these thoughts? Why be an artist if I’m only thinking and never making or doing?
Every concept has a form, from an utterance to pose. I’m thinking about Marina sitting in the chair staring at people. She has said she believes in ESP, or at least non-verbal communication. The artist Steve Lambert has a project where he sits and talks about anything with people. It’s possible to merge thought and performance, the dialogic, the social. Another Iranian artist I worked with stopped making objects to focus on one-on-one conversations with people and I think she shared some of your questions. Yes, you can make different types of things that are immaterial, though they still require planning, action, invitations, contexts...
If I’m using my art to understand myself and my experience, then why do I need to do any work outside of my own head? Do others every need to know or see? What do I want others to see? What do I want to share?
The question about connections seems pertinent. Also, others often provide confirmation of what we may know or think, not only validation, but a sense of shared reality, a consensus
does art that is resolved in form and content but having no end or lacking direction show indifference?
Art avoids answers I think. It privileges ambiguity, complexity.
Do I need to make work for other people?
Tolstoy would say no, that it should only be for yourself, but it doesn’t function in its way unless it is received. How it is received is vastly different question, but it’s not a binary when you think about the fact that you can make art for yourself and have it be received by people. The complication that is interesting to consider is who you imagine yourself to be, because that also imagines an audience.
Is my art selfish? Am I selfish?
Another way to ask the question is ‘why should anyone look at what I have done?’ What does the work give you? The artist Sharon Louden won’t work with artists who she doesn’t think shares, and at the same time, I know a critic who has said some of his favorite artists are assholes, self-absorbed, selfish, mean...
Am I making work for myself or for deadlines and for the consumption by and approval of others?
In school, this is a rhetorical question. Have you ever seen the reality TV show Work of Art? It literally makes real this question, 24 hour deadlines, a panel of judges, a prize...they even provided the questions about where to start making something.
What do I want to give to other people? Is that something I can give them with art? What do I want to share with other people? Is that something that is best shared with them through art?
Do you want to give other people you? Or do you want to share a story with them?
What do I want to manifest in the world? Do I want to manifest anything or am I okay with sitting alone and thinking and keeping it to myself?
The possibilities for connection are greatly limited by the latter. What would it be like to sit with another person or group and listen? Or perhaps ask a question.
What is the difference between myself and other people? Is my consciousness singular? How do I relate to other people as a singular being with no context other than my own and not theirs? How do we find a shared context and language? How do we share our consciousness with other people? Can we ever share our consciousness with others?
While language has its problems, thinking about latina, latino, latinx, we’re sharing a language in the context of a digital word processing platform where the information is stored in a metaphorical cloud. So, I think this qualifies, but technologically speaking, Marina aside, I don’t think we have the ability to share consciousness directly without some mediating sense. Science-fiction, something like Forever Peace, imagines future possibilities that have not occurred yet.
Maybe I don’t think in visuals? Maybe I think in words? Do I think in visuals or words? Do I think somehow else? Do I think in questions or answers?
I’m going to say you think in questions based on the empirical information in front of me. I can’t know if you think in images, but do you dream? Do you recall visuals? I have intense feelings of images from dreams. An interesting thing to consider is that language can be oral, image based, or character based, and different signifiers can still create meaning. I mean, what if the distinction isn’t reliable?
Do we need to connect with other people and know what they’re thinking and experiencing and share those things? Do I need to? Do I want to? Do I? Should I?
Empathy says yes.
Is it fulfilling to me? What is fulfilling to me? Are things I enjoy fulfilling to me? Are things that entertain me fulfilling to me? Are things that make me cry fulfilling to me? Do I need to be fulfilled to be happy? What is the difference between fulfillment and happiness? Am I happy? When will I be happy? When will I be finished?
The story you have been narrating for years seems to me, from what little I know, to do some of this. I don’t know if you will be finished. Artists don’t retire.
Do I enjoy having existential crises? Why am I stuck in my own mind?
There is a warning here. A friend was talking about education addicts who attended a free art school to get their fix. It was a fairly harsh critique of people’s motives around education, or finding answers, but what are the implications if you do enjoy the drama of a constant internal existential crisis? What does that provide? What desire does it fulfill that can’t be exhausted or controlled? Another artist, AK Burns, tells students ‘never justify yourself’. That seems like important advice. People can call you on things, challenge you, but no one has to justify their existence, maybe only some of the conditions of that existence in the world, and even then, so much of that has to do with who is making demands.
Speculations on the relationship between Art and my life
I find it hard to imagine what I could meaningfully accomplish in a speculative essay. Every time I speculate it seems like at the end of the day nothing much has been accomplished. "After all is said and done, more is said than done". I feel like there are very real and very hard limits on my understanding and my capacity to experience things, which is a shame because I seem to compulsively speculate about things I can never understand or experience all the time. Why do I feel the compulsion to understand and to experience?
If existence is the combined infinite expressions of a causal wave form, and my existence and consciousness is the far removed consequence and expression and experience of this original form, then my existence will be spent trying to understand the nature of what I’m experiencing which is far beyond the limitations of my understanding. I can only experience these signs very far down the chain of causality and so I try to glean what I can. I can’t imagine what it would even mean to have that kind of understanding. Why do I want to understand? Do all sentient beings necessarily feel existential dread or is it just me?
A Japanese comic with uncomfortably pedophilic undertones, which I am convinced is an allegory for Buddhist cosmology, gave me a shockingly apt metaphor for my own existential dread. Existence is descending into a massive abyss of unknown depth and certain mortal danger, but being conscious enough to know that you exist only to experience that descent and suffer in that abyss, and to know that all that waits for you at the end after all of it is nothingness, but you have no choice but to walk that path. Maybe we are all just driven like by some kind of curse to return to the abyss we were made in. We all return back to the state of nonexistence, (I hope) like that which we came from. Existence seems contradictory and paradoxical, like the two extremes that exist at opposite points of a wave, and this is difficult for the consciousness that has emerged from my being to understand and experience.
The way that art has manifested itself in my life, or brought me to it, is through the shape of my thoughts being in unending questions and answers in succession, lots of questions in the search of answers. Not so much the search for answers as the search for understanding and experience. But answers and understanding and experience are never complete and so it keeps going on. I’m an artist because I can’t stop thinking and questioning and evaluating, but I’m also consciously making decisions based on the criteria of my own personality, experiences, and identity. My artistic practice is the way that I interact with the world and think about things, the difficulty becomes what to present to, or manifest in, the world (to other conscious beings that also have hard limits on their understanding and experience), because I’m looking for answers and I have no answers to offer. The only things I can offer with any semblance of value from authority come from my questions and the lived experiences of my path through life and where I’ve been on my journey of thoughts through these questions.
My own consciousness (my lived experiences, and my personality traits of unknowable origin) has given me access to certain forms of experience and certain understandings that I attempt to manifest through art. The particular paradox at the heart of my artistic practice and speculation is the simultaneous “everything-ness” and “nothing-ness” of the individual consciousness. I am both the center of my universe, the sole person experiencing it, while at the same time being permeated by everything outside of myself, and existing as a consciousness only trapped inside of the imaginary space inside of my own head, somehow less real than everything else that surrounds me. My consciousness and my concept of what is myself versus what is everything else being an intangible and illogical thing, which is all that I have to understand the origin and nature of the “non-self” stuff which created me and which is everything that I will ever experience. How can my consciousness rejoin what it was born from?
Maybe this desire to incorporate the “non-self” into the scope of my own understanding is a result of being a relatively sensitive and empathetic person. Living in a consciousness that is especially permeable to and affected by the “non-self” might be what motivates me to search for understanding and experience. As a protective or defensive measure to understand what could have the power to hurt me, or maybe just to extend my own self to encompass everything else.
If my consciousness could somehow transcend the limitations of my being and exist as a more straightforward and simple expression of that universal wave, then the limits of my understanding and of my experiences would be ameliorated, and I speculate that I would probably feel no need for art. But I will also try not to speculate for too long about what it would be like to experience something so totally and completely outside of my understanding. I think that if I try too hard to get answers instead of focusing on the process of speculation and experience then I’ll move from art into something like philosophy or theology, two subjects I am even less qualified to speculate about. Maybe the most meaningful thing I can accomplish in a speculative essay is the process of speculation.
Drawings of possible costumes and their scales with and draping on a body.
Construction techniques and steps for sculpted fabric ripples
Construction techniques and steps for ruffled collars
Questions, not answers?
This is speculation, why not start with questions?
Why do I always need answers, why not questions?
Is my art about my life?
Should my art be about my life? My experiences? My memories? My meditations? Me grappling with existence?
Why do I need an answer?
Is there a reason? Is there a purpose? Is there an answer?
Is my art giving me an answer?
Is there an answer? Can I even find an answer? Is there a meaning? What is the question?
Does my art give me an understanding of things or only more questions?
Do I have a need for story in my art? A narrative?
What is the role of storytelling in art and in individuality?
Is my art trying to make a connection with other people?
Is it the way that I process my own story?
Does my art have a “punchline”?
Why am I not producing enough for thesis? Why is thinking all that I’m doing?
Do I even need to make the work or is it enough to think about making it and how I would do it? Does there need to be a thing? Do I get enough satisfaction from just having these thoughts? Why be an artist if I’m only thinking and never making or doing?
If I’m using my art to understand myself and my experience, then why do I need to do any work outside of my own head? Do others every need to know or see? What do I want others to see? What do I want to share?
does art that is resolved in form and content but having no end or lacking direction show indifference?
Do I need to make work for other people?
Is my art selfish? Am I selfish?
Am I making work for myself or for deadlines and for the consumption by and approval of others?
What do I want to give to other people? Is that something I can give them with art? What do I want to share with other people? Is that something that is best shared with them through art?
What do I want to manifest in the world? Do I want to manifest anything or am I okay with sitting alone and thinking and keeping it to myself?
What is the difference between myself and other people? Is my consciousness singular? How do I relate to other people as a singular being with no context other than my own and not theirs? How do we find a shared context and language? How do we share our consciousness with other people? Can we ever share our consciousness with others?
Maybe I don’t think in visuals? Maybe I think in words? Do I think in visuals or words? Do I think somehow else? Do I think in questions or answers?
Do we need to connect with other people and know what they’re thinking and experiencing and share those things? Do I need to? Do I want to? Do I? Should I?
Is it fulfilling to me? What is fulfilling to me? Are things I enjoy fulfilling to me? Are things that entertain me fulfilling to me? Are things that make me cry fulfilling to me? Do I need to be fulfilled to be happy? What is the difference between fulfillment and happiness? Am I happy? When will I be happy? When will I be finished?
Do I enjoy having existential crises? Why am I stuck in my own mind?
Unexpected and out of place fibers
Things that are comfortable to wear, things I wear involuntary or out of utility or feeling
Finding shapes and meanings and figures. Human forms in nonhuman forms. In clouds, in concrete, wood grain.