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Questions Never Posed, Investigations Never Made
Posted:
Feb 4, 2006 2:23 PM
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I'd like to thank Mr. Starace for the well considered review of "Random Strangers" at Rogue Buddha.
As one of the artists reviewed in a decidedly critical light, I found the issues raised to be valid. This sort of critical feedback is essential to artistic growth. As praise of what we (artists) have done correctly gives us energy to continue, intelligent criticism of what we've done incorrectly helps us refine and improve on our work.
It seems to me that Mr. Starace approached the show and the individual works foremost through the artist's statements. His response to my statement pointed out a tone of "frustration" that was not my intent - I'm afraid I came off as far more angst-ridden than I actually am. The reviewer asks why I'm in the art business at all, and inquires why I don't "endeavor to go outside, meet people, go hiking, have a "real" life?" Ironically, the point of the "randomalia" displayed in the video was to indicate the importance and involvement of "real life" - the everyday experience, the routine and immediate surroundings - in the artistic process. Mr. Nielsen and myself wanted to approach the phenomenon of the graffiti writer (an undeniable part of the urban landscape) from the perspective of a wildlife documentary. We see his environment, the city and its various inhabitants. We see the abstract trappings of humankind in the environment - language, technology, advertising, art - the great human abstractions, that to the uninquiring mind appear to be natural occurances within the urban landscape. And we see the response - graffiti, modern day cave paintings in this case, which indicate the human need to understand the world through visual symbols of one's own making. The saving grace of graffiti, say what you will about the aesthetics or morality of it, is that in its pure form it is an action first and foremost, a basic and instinctual act upon the human art making impulse, a part of "real life" carried out by children, cavemen and illiterates as well as the educated or the aesthetically self-concious. I'm quite aware of the contradiction in making art while railing against the shortcomings of it, but it's precisely this contradiction that fascinates me and which I am attempting to deal with in my art and in this video piece specifically. The title of the video, "Nothing Like Being There," while not meant at all to be a grand statement, does hopefully suggest to the viewer that we're all in on the double entendre, the contradiction implicit in actual experience and a plastic record of it (read: art). I feel that there is a valid answer to Mr. Starace's question within the work, but I've failed to make it clearly apparent, especially in the artist's statement included at the show.
Mr. Starace's first question for me is "Why would we, as viewers, want our perceptions skewed by his art?" and points out a rather selfish desire on my part to "feed myself enough self-reference that I'll begin to subconsciously imitate my own life's experiences, rather than unknowingly living out a Hollywood movie script." I confess that I slipped up there and revealed perhaps too much of the self-indulgent side of art making. (Admit it, artists, you do this for yourself as much or more than anybody else). My intent in voicing this selfish scheme, however, was to reveal how I wished to make my art of value to the viewer (yet again, I failed to clearly communicate this in my statement): by example. Maybe my view of the average art spectator is skewed because many of my peers make art in one form or another, but even outside of the artsy enclaves of New York City I have found most people will generally surround themselves with symbols of their own life - family photographs, souvenirs, keepsakes - any form of self reference that helps them to keep in mind a continuum of their past experience and their present consciousness. We chose to shoot "Nothing Like Being There" in Super 8 filmstock to give it the quality of a home movie, in order to relate to the broad social phenomenon of self documentation. Aesthetically it's not so far removed from a home movie of the childhood of many Americans aged about 25 or older. The aim is to demonstrate, in a familiar yet slightly off-kilter fashion, that everyone is capable of envisioning their own life as a great spectacle, worthy of critical consideration. As a quick and dirty example of what makes me feel the need to encourage people to do so, I know people who speak of reruns of "Friends" with more interest than they speak of their own lives. They are impressed by the impact of the polished media abstraction of real life, so much so that they begin to treat it as more real than their own experience. Yes, I do feel some frustration with this, but of course I also recognize the great ability of art to expand the mind of the viewer. So consider my stance as stuck in the middle, frustrated and enamored with art simultaneously, but mostly just fascinated with the human impulse to abstract life's experiences, to fashion them into the broader patterns that constitute the themes of art. I hope that my film can provide an intriguing (perhaps more than just "initially") step into another person's perception of the world and further invite the viewer to scrutinize their own experience as holding equal or greater importance to any art.
So thanks again to the reviewer. I hope that my response is of interest. The process of responding (and reconsidering my work) has certainly been engaging to me.
Tighe Clark
And as a last note, a quick proofreading of the review will note that the show is misnamed "Perfect Strangers" by the end of the article. As much as we're all fans of the early 90's sitcom, the name of the exhibition in question remains "Random Strangers."
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