getting lost in the mind
of the other
the artist builds
a world
that few would understand
getting lost in the mind
of the other
I wonder where in the world
their ideas might have
emerged from
I planned a whole art trip with my fiance in the city. We visited so many places of art, trying to enter the mind of the artists, wondering what went through their minds before they committed themselves to their piece of work.
Yet we could not get close to an answer that would satisfy either of us.
For the artist create their own world before they produce a piece of art. They formulate intricate details mapped onto canvas that only make sense to them. Like the poet who tries to write down that the world is telling them, the artist merely tries to paint what is being impressed (imposed...?) onto them.
Life is the ultimate muse.
Either way, we got lost in the modern or postmodern landscape of South African art, high on life, sobered with coffee, and drunk on the magnificent works that hung before us.
(Like so many other times, we were not allowed to take photographs with our DSLR cameras, because for some reason they do not like it, and they think that it can take good enough photographs that they are worried we might steal the artworks. But we were allowed to take photographs with our cell phones, which does not make sense in the least.)
Before they chased our camera away (kindly asking us to put the camera away), I managed to snap some photographs of the inside, the beautiful things for sale, the small pieces of artworks that probably took a while for someone to create. Now, these pieces just hang there, waiting for a new home, waiting for someone to buy them.
But most of the other work, which they explicitly told us not to photograph was not as easily accessible to buy, I think. In fact, these works were not for sale, if memory serves me correct now. There were only for the taking with our eyes, a momentary and fleeting-ephemeral impression, appearance; a quick glance with our eyes so that they have become eternalised (besides that we could photograph them with our phones).
Does the art ever look back at us? What does the art say about us? We are always looking at the art, but are these works not demanding us to at least think about them a bit differently? We always assume that postmodern art has become ugly and too simple. And in many senses this is a correct conclusion to draw. We always hear the statement in galleries, But I could have done that without an art degree, for a lot cheaper. But these critiques misses the point. It is not about simplicity, but what these works ask of us.
Photorealistic works give too much away. They are like photographs. They can challenge us in unique ways, but they cannot give more than what they are: photographs, true renditions of reality (at least, real according to the artist). But these "postmodern" work speak in a unique language, one that is not so easily and readily understandable. It challenges us to interpret them. And these interpretations usually tell us something about ourselves as well. Giving away that we are speaking from a specific vantage point.
As we were about to leave, we saw the Sculpture Garden. It was not much, it were two or three small pieces of artwork in a small mound on the side of the gallery. No one looked at our cameras here. But we also did not see much besides the strange objects sticking their heads through the ground. (There is also a video at the end.)
Art really has this strange way of sucking you into its own making, into its own world. We can never really or truly understand beforehand what to expect of this world. Of the artist and their world. Of the world of the art. Of the art. Can we ever truly say what we might get from the work of art? I am not so sure.
We got lost in the postmodern world of South African art, and we are still trying to find ourselves, the words to express these strange ideas. For we are but a strange bunch trying to make sense of the world.
I hope that some of these photographs of these artworks made you think, or that my own writing might have challenged you in some sense.
For now, happy travels, happy art, and stay safe.
All of these musings and writings are my own, albeit inspired by the art and the frustration of the gatekeeping of art. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300, and iPhone. (Because for some reason that was allowed).