A film of the life of the great artist Jackson Pollock, played and directed as part of the great actor Ed Harris' life, being viewed on television, recorded on digital camera, and placed on the internet as part of a creative process in art and life.
Creativity, Community, and Consciousness:On A beach in Cornwall during artists retreat.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Notes on a Manifesto
"Art is a universal and real expression of the creative energy which organises the progress of humanity."
(Congress of The International Union of Progressive Artists: Dusseldorf, May 1922)
(Art in Theory 1900 - 2000)
Joseph Beuys believed in universal creativity as a transformative social force, which is why he coined the term "everyone is an artist",. I interpret this statement more generally as everyone having "creative potential" them rather than a specific "artistic potential" which is an ever changing social construction determined by the artistic and social values of the time. If people discover their creative potential, or are given the opportunity to develop and express their artistic potential into an acceptable creative form, then it becomes socially accepted and called art.
The notion of art I take for given, as do I that specific forms of art are either accepted or rejected upon the given whims of the culture of the time. However, when I read anything concerning the notion of creativity as a transformative resource, rather than specifically as a power to make art, I am uplifted; As I am when I read about theories that also view art as having the same transformative power, above and beyond the notion of art for arts sake.
I do not see, nor feel there is a need for this separation between the idea of art as either a social force for change, and art simply for arts sake. To my mind these two competing ideologies are to be understood as relative parts of the whole; and in order to understand this point it helps to look at the social and historical concept of beauty...............but unfortunately it is now almost two 'o' clock in the afternoon, and as my kitchen cupboards are bare. The only thing I have eaten today thus far is a single kiwi fruit, so I must stop this babbling, become a temporary consumer of capitalism, and go to the supermarket.
David A.
(Congress of The International Union of Progressive Artists: Dusseldorf, May 1922)
(Art in Theory 1900 - 2000)
Joseph Beuys believed in universal creativity as a transformative social force, which is why he coined the term "everyone is an artist",. I interpret this statement more generally as everyone having "creative potential" them rather than a specific "artistic potential" which is an ever changing social construction determined by the artistic and social values of the time. If people discover their creative potential, or are given the opportunity to develop and express their artistic potential into an acceptable creative form, then it becomes socially accepted and called art.
The notion of art I take for given, as do I that specific forms of art are either accepted or rejected upon the given whims of the culture of the time. However, when I read anything concerning the notion of creativity as a transformative resource, rather than specifically as a power to make art, I am uplifted; As I am when I read about theories that also view art as having the same transformative power, above and beyond the notion of art for arts sake.
I do not see, nor feel there is a need for this separation between the idea of art as either a social force for change, and art simply for arts sake. To my mind these two competing ideologies are to be understood as relative parts of the whole; and in order to understand this point it helps to look at the social and historical concept of beauty...............but unfortunately it is now almost two 'o' clock in the afternoon, and as my kitchen cupboards are bare. The only thing I have eaten today thus far is a single kiwi fruit, so I must stop this babbling, become a temporary consumer of capitalism, and go to the supermarket.
David A.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Pop Art Idol
I didn't see this coming about two years ago! It is no surprise to me that the new pet art project of Charles Saatchi is to set up a Britains Got Talent/X-Factor style TV programme for artists. The aim is that the winning artists (who will of course all be painters) will get to exhibit their work in a gallery in Russia.
What he obviously wants is to make as much money from it as Simon Cowell has made from syndicating Pop Idol and X-factor all over the world.
What he obviously wants is to make as much money from it as Simon Cowell has made from syndicating Pop Idol and X-factor all over the world.
The Social Negation of Creativity
"Man was born free, but everywhere he is in chains"; (Jean Jacques Rousseau: The Social Contract, 1762).
Due to life circumstances I have been unable to settle myself enough to create art, so to try and release the build-up of inner creative energy I've been reading new things on art and creativity theory to try and expunge the daily detritus of everyday nonsense that clouds and confuses our real thoughts. I suffer these creative bursts where I have to indulge (that is what it clearly is)in either making spontaneous free art, or immerse my self in reading, thinking and the expression of ideas. The ideal way to express the inner creative life is to maintain a psychological, physical, and social balance as the foundation for creativity, unfortunately for me, circumstances at present do not allow this, and I am having to cope with a lot of unexpectedness at present....too much of this can be quite unsettling. It's particularly frustrating for the creative (whole) self(see images) which if accessed, intuitively knows what life context and environment it needs to be in to flourish. The harsh reality of our personal and global worlds is that they seems to often prevent the realization of our complete human expression by the restrictive social, political and economic frameworks we try to live within.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Art of Now in The Early 21st Century
The search for a new art is always the driving concern of galleries and the media. The artists themselves seem split in to two distinct camps of the insiders relying upon training, skill, contacts, and the vagaries of the system; leaving a burgeoning complex mix of outsiders, inside- outsiders, anonymous street artists, art-activists, and unimaginable diverse groups of people and individuals attempting to subvert and challenge the accepted art and cultural patterns of the day.
The 1990's were characterised by a proliferation of themes of subjectivity about which it is difficult to speculate, and which do not refer to the concepts and forms of history usually adopted by art criticism. This subjectivity seems to refer for the most part to the individual citizen's legal right to be able to live creatively.
Artists today find themselves more and more acting within a reality or a system that is continuously mobile and fluid, and unpredictable chains of events that offers neither support nor certainties.
Today, artistic sensitivity is now based upon a subjective creativity and an innovative language that lies somewhere between fiction and reality, whose content may or may not have something to with social or political problems. Every artist, like every citizen now observes the World within and without.
The Internet allows for a myriad of complex creative interactions and hybrids of traditional art and futuristic conceptions of reality.
Underground capillary networks of friends and random creative liaisons increasingly take the place of legitimate art criticism from institutional arenas, providing the expanding world of the art creative with more intimate criticism that is emotionally and socially sensitive, rather than being subjected to idiosyncratic reasons for rejection, and have work looked upon as banal or lacking aesthetic connection by those in positions of art power, who are not necessarily best set to judge creative work, often relying upon the aesthectic whims of others themselves to legitimize their selections for exhibition or exposure.
For such reasons the reality of art has now become a cause for individual survival of the creative self, a personal manual of individual and universal creativity that encompasses all the previous languages of the avant-gardes, and includes the artist as scholar, and scholar as artist into a complex everyday art of the citizen - artist, an art free from the professional media art magazine machine, it is a new insider-outsider, underground-above ground avant-garde based upon a do-it yourself philosophy. What has now emerged is an aesthetic of art as an everyday adventure in survival understood by the media and wider public as being centred upon creatives often concealed behind a pseudonym or logo producing clandestine art and interactive social experiences whilst trying to speak their individual truths, rather than express those placed within thier heads by art training or the current latest fad.
It is only through these latter contemporary artistic outputs can we hope to understand, and engage with 21st concepts of art and free creativity in relation to the social, political, and economic events of this new Century.
David Augustine
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Rabbit Head/Donnie Darko/Descartes/Slavery/Art
One evening, two year ago when I first moved into my current London location I began pulling wallpaper off the ceiling of the bathroom in order to re-decorate. I was a listening to music and was in a relaxed state of mind. As the paper began to peel off I noticed a small hole in the concrete ceiling, I continued to peel away the wallpaper from around this hole, and an image began to emerge in my mind stimulated from the pattern left behind which to me suggested a creature of sorts. The image which emerged from my unconsciousness into my conscious perception was that of something similar to (yet quite different from) a giant rabbits' head! As my sense perceptions had interpreted it thus, I obviously felt an immediate connection to the image, as in some way such instances are nearly always connected to the inner self.
Aesthetically, I liked the way the "pointy bits" (special art language term) jut forwards at an angle. It looks similar to a large rabbit head but my intuition tells me it is something different, an image of creature (that's how I perceived it initially) that I feel an automatic affinity with. Maybe it is a manifestation of my creative self in some form of animal guise which is intended to facilitate my creative process, or maybe it is just a few random lines of old wallpaper.
I returned to the image some weeks later with some art materials to further experiment, and found myself painting a collar around it's neck which I attached visually around a small pipe coming out the wall, and painted a large speech bubble from its "closed lips" as if the image was about to say something. Just another one of my self-initiated art therapy sessions I thought, and left it for a few more weeks to incubate in my unconscious.
Of course, I can never truly be sure why I perceived an image of giant rabbits head in a few scraps of wallpaper, but this is how the mind works. We have an inner "Gestalt" which try to impress upon random chaos and confusion and sense of order to things, our minds are somehow constructed to interpret things as a whole from the individual parts. But why does it chose to see a rabbit? Probably because this is the closest thing in my unconscious memory that resembles the shape on the ceiling. My mind can only make a "whole" sense of an unknown image by dredging my past perceptual experiences and connected it the most likely thing it knows.
As I'm trying to observe and understand my own creative un/consciousness I am therefore trying to study myself. But how can I separate myself from own subjective conscious processes? How can I possible be objective, about my own subjective experiences?. Is this is even possible?I imagine people who meditate, Buddhist monks for example must be going through a similar process of losing oneself in the unconscious or non-conscious, in order to discover the truth of oneself.
"I think, Therefore I am" (Descartes)
Creative Notes:
Once the image of the large rabbit appeared in my mind my memories of the film "Donnie Darko" not unsurprisingly surfaced almost immediately after. A great film, one I completely loved, my first reaction to watching that film was "genius". Of course it could be that we are all so used to to watching standard Hollywood interpretations of life on screen when something distinctly unusual comes along we are truly amazed and stunned by it, nevertheless I thought it was a beautiful piece of work, along with films such as Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive. Tolerance of ambiguity and an attraction to complexity are known characteristics of creative personalities.
I believe the rabbits' neck collar attached to the pipe means I unconsciously feel I am not yet completely free, like most people, I am a form of prisoner, a lab-rabbit perhaps, attached to a means of economic restraint in the social laboratory of life, a friend of mine recently set up a course around issues of the slave trade in London (See Platform web Link). Maybe some of us have remnants of those horrific experiences lingering in our deep unconsciousness passed onto us through distant, (and not so distant) ancestors. I find the whole area of investigating the human mind, and the scientific enquiries into DNA fascinating, and yet slightly worrying at the same time.
According to Jungs theory of the "collective unconscious" we all have an "Anima" or a "Animus" and maybe I think this giant rabbit-like creature is mine! I shall do some more research on Jung and my giant rabbit and then come back to this.
What I do know, is that at some point I feel as though I will make a model of this giant creatures head from chicken wire and paper-mache, because for some unearthly creative reason I feel I want to experience what its like walking around the streets of London with a giant rabbits head on, only I know that its not really a rabbit. I'm sure Joseph Beuys and the Surrealists would approve.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Reflections On Christmas, New Year, Childhood,Teens.
Christmas
Christmas is about re-affirming family ties and stoking up the imagination of childhood zeal, the rest is nonsense. I was lucky as a child as I lived in a large house big enough to accommodate a 'ginormous' Christmas tree, and a large holly bush (tree) in the back garden which I used to love climbing up inside; wedged between its small branches I felt hidden and protected from the whole world by its prickly exterior; it was one of my favourite childhood hiding places only accessible by lying almost flat on the ground and crawling beneath the lowest holly spikes, but once inside no-one could see you as the holly and red berries were so dense it was impossible for adult eyes to penetrate. I sat there often listening to random adults in the garden who no doubt believed I had scampered off upstairs to bed and was either asleep, or hiding in a cupboard!
All I can say now as an adult (sort of) is thank goodness that Christmas/New Year is over. The highlight of my Christmas and New Year was sharing a bottle of Moet & Chandon Champagne with friends. It has a delightful taste that I found quite surprising. I don't normally take much interest in the subtleties of alcoholic beverages, but I am now considering using this Champagne at opening of some future art event I have yet to construct. Call me pretentious and elite if you wish but I always prefer private views when they really make an effort on the social-entertaining side, because let's be honest, most of the time the so-called art is vacant of any real meaning.
New Year
I stopped making New Year Resolutions when I was about twelve and Susan Cureton the girl I was in love went out with my best friend Andrew Lawrence. That was the most emotionally painful thing that ever happened to me as a teenager, more so being beat up skinheads for being "too cool", and more painful than flying off my skateboard down a steep hill, doing a complete reverse somersault and landing on my head and right elbow. Boys always find such events hilariously funny, so my friends wereall doubled-up screaming with laughter, especially Andrew who had tears coming down his face and was laughing so much he could hardly breathe; the girls on the other hand were very impressed that I didn't make much fuss about it apart from a few teenage groans and an intake of a few sharp breaths while the agony slowly declined into a stinging burn-like warmth. I felt more embarrassment than any other other emotion, as I was the only person not to make it down the hill in one piece.
The person who showed the most concern was Julie Walsh, another girl I fell in love with during those hormonal teen years, who at some point I would go out with and share my very first "grown-up kiss" under a tree. (I shall undoubtedly come back to this first real kiss when I write my book.) It was her idea as everyone (mainly the boys of course) was trying to watch us. Now she was cool, a beautiful tomboy who did most things better than us boys including skatebooarding and riding BMX; she made it down the hill with ease! After my skateboarding catastrophe we all walked home staring with fascination at the inner workings of my elbow joint which could be seen moving beneath my skin which was no longer there; no doubt if police forensics had been on the scene they could had easily located the remnants of my elbow skin lying smeared in on the tarmac behind us. What surprised me most of all was that although there was a hole the size of a fifty pence piece in my elbow there was hardly any blood, just a few tiny red dots peeking out through the white flesh, tendons, and bone gristle. It is amazing how the mind works in the strangest of circumstances, why did I notice this? I knew it was my immune system reacting to the shock and restricting the flow of blood to the trauma area,how did I know this, and is this even true?. The pain was still an intense stinging sensation and I was quite worried about the hole in my elbow. Luckily my skull had dealt with the impact admirably, such a design is the skull, and apart from a hugh cone-like cartoon bump and a slight ringing in my ears I was fine. This recollection brings to mind the time I was hit was a car when I was in my late teens which was another strange body experience I shall no doubt write about in the future.
Creative Note:
Mention the school playground incident when you were bumped on the head and actually saw "stars". I think that is interesting.
I always stray from the point where I began when I start writing about things...Sorry........HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Footnote:
I really think I may be ready soon to attempt a book of sorts, I can feel this creative urge to do so becoming stronger.....I hope I'm right because thier is a lot I would like to write about but I have never found, or felt, the right desire to do as my creativity for the past tens years has been focused more on the practice of art and other expressive outlets.
Christmas is about re-affirming family ties and stoking up the imagination of childhood zeal, the rest is nonsense. I was lucky as a child as I lived in a large house big enough to accommodate a 'ginormous' Christmas tree, and a large holly bush (tree) in the back garden which I used to love climbing up inside; wedged between its small branches I felt hidden and protected from the whole world by its prickly exterior; it was one of my favourite childhood hiding places only accessible by lying almost flat on the ground and crawling beneath the lowest holly spikes, but once inside no-one could see you as the holly and red berries were so dense it was impossible for adult eyes to penetrate. I sat there often listening to random adults in the garden who no doubt believed I had scampered off upstairs to bed and was either asleep, or hiding in a cupboard!
All I can say now as an adult (sort of) is thank goodness that Christmas/New Year is over. The highlight of my Christmas and New Year was sharing a bottle of Moet & Chandon Champagne with friends. It has a delightful taste that I found quite surprising. I don't normally take much interest in the subtleties of alcoholic beverages, but I am now considering using this Champagne at opening of some future art event I have yet to construct. Call me pretentious and elite if you wish but I always prefer private views when they really make an effort on the social-entertaining side, because let's be honest, most of the time the so-called art is vacant of any real meaning.
New Year
I stopped making New Year Resolutions when I was about twelve and Susan Cureton the girl I was in love went out with my best friend Andrew Lawrence. That was the most emotionally painful thing that ever happened to me as a teenager, more so being beat up skinheads for being "too cool", and more painful than flying off my skateboard down a steep hill, doing a complete reverse somersault and landing on my head and right elbow. Boys always find such events hilariously funny, so my friends wereall doubled-up screaming with laughter, especially Andrew who had tears coming down his face and was laughing so much he could hardly breathe; the girls on the other hand were very impressed that I didn't make much fuss about it apart from a few teenage groans and an intake of a few sharp breaths while the agony slowly declined into a stinging burn-like warmth. I felt more embarrassment than any other other emotion, as I was the only person not to make it down the hill in one piece.
The person who showed the most concern was Julie Walsh, another girl I fell in love with during those hormonal teen years, who at some point I would go out with and share my very first "grown-up kiss" under a tree. (I shall undoubtedly come back to this first real kiss when I write my book.) It was her idea as everyone (mainly the boys of course) was trying to watch us. Now she was cool, a beautiful tomboy who did most things better than us boys including skatebooarding and riding BMX; she made it down the hill with ease! After my skateboarding catastrophe we all walked home staring with fascination at the inner workings of my elbow joint which could be seen moving beneath my skin which was no longer there; no doubt if police forensics had been on the scene they could had easily located the remnants of my elbow skin lying smeared in on the tarmac behind us. What surprised me most of all was that although there was a hole the size of a fifty pence piece in my elbow there was hardly any blood, just a few tiny red dots peeking out through the white flesh, tendons, and bone gristle. It is amazing how the mind works in the strangest of circumstances, why did I notice this? I knew it was my immune system reacting to the shock and restricting the flow of blood to the trauma area,how did I know this, and is this even true?. The pain was still an intense stinging sensation and I was quite worried about the hole in my elbow. Luckily my skull had dealt with the impact admirably, such a design is the skull, and apart from a hugh cone-like cartoon bump and a slight ringing in my ears I was fine. This recollection brings to mind the time I was hit was a car when I was in my late teens which was another strange body experience I shall no doubt write about in the future.
Creative Note:
Mention the school playground incident when you were bumped on the head and actually saw "stars". I think that is interesting.
I always stray from the point where I began when I start writing about things...Sorry........HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Footnote:
I really think I may be ready soon to attempt a book of sorts, I can feel this creative urge to do so becoming stronger.....I hope I'm right because thier is a lot I would like to write about but I have never found, or felt, the right desire to do as my creativity for the past tens years has been focused more on the practice of art and other expressive outlets.
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