Thursday, June 18, 2020

Look Out!! Or in...

A few days ago while reading the introduction to a book called "Legendary Artists and the Clothes They Wore" I came across the line "The job of artists is to critique culture, unload their psyches into their work, and make edifying masterpieces the rest of us can revere."

The line feels like a bit of a throwaway... an obligatory expository step on the way to the real meat of the book, but... I couldn't get it out of my head.

The sentence describes three things that artists are supposed to do. The third thing in the list, "mak[ing] edifying masterpieces the rest of us can revere," is really just a catch-all description meant to encompass any work of art which is worthy of our attention. The first two items on the list, however, are what caught my interest.

1) Critique culture.
2) Unload their psyches into their work.

I believe that this is a major distinction which divides the subject matter of art into two subsets: Looking outward and looking inward.

An artwork which critiques culture sets its sights on the world around us. The artist points their gaze outward, away from (him/her)self, and seeks to make a commentary on the society or culture that we all live in. Often this takes the form of some sort of evaluation, or illumination of something the artist feels needs to be examined more closely, and as such this type of art is often part of a cultural dialogue around issues like social change and justice. Artists whose work typically functions in this way include Banksy, Ai Wei Wei, Alice Walker, Taos artist Nikesha Breeze, and my old friend Chris Dacre, among many others. It's also true that every work of art, even those which seek exclusively to critique culture, bears the stamp of its maker, and is therefore personal to some degree.

An artwork which functions primarily as an unloading of the artist's psyche is an artwork that looks inward. This sort of work typically takes topics like emotion, romance, and mortality as its subject matter. These topics might be collected under a subject heading such as 'the fundamental experience of being human,' and might further be classified with terms such as 'psychology' and 'biography.' Artists working in this mode include Egon Schiele, Francis Bacon, Chuck Close, Tim Hawkinson, and Anton Solomoukha. 

These are broad distinctions, and I don't think they encompass all art. For one thing, painting before the advent of photography often functioned simply as a document of noteworthy people and events and this type of painting doesn't really fit into either of the above categories. Also, abstract art (which I usually think of as 'art about art,' and which I generally dislike) also defies these definitions.

And then there are the artists who transcend this distinction, either by crossing over, back and forth, between the two points of view or by defining some interzone between them. This work, I think, has the potential of being particularly powerful. A few artists that come to mind who have managed this feat are Jean-Michel Basquiat, Paul McCarthy, the amazing Marina Abramowic, and perhaps even Ingres. I count these artists as some of my favorites. Incidentally, I believe that film is very well suited to handle this sort of multi-focus crossover; after all, visual art is typically one image while a single film comprises thousands.

My favorite psychology author is the late Alice Miller. Her lifelong focus was child abuse and neglect, and the ways in which the effects of these traumas linger (often unseen) into adulthood. In her book "The Untouched Key" she traces the effects of childhood trauma in public figures such as artists Chaim Soutine and Pablo Picasso, philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, and dictators Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin, showing how abuse and neglect they experienced in their early lives led either to great art or horrible cruelty (depending on critical factors which she does identify). According to her formulations, the work of Soutine and Picasso crossed over between the realms of the inner and the outer, even though the artists themselves were to some degree unaware of the psychological forces at play in their own art. *See below for a bit more about Alice Miller.

But, back to the dichotomy.

I'm guessing that, among the segment of the population which actually gives a shit about art, most people have a preference between art that looks inward and that which looks outward. I do. I prefer to see the psyche of the artist; I prefer work that looks inward.

It's not a strong preference; by no means will I 'write off' art that critiques culture. Some of it is amazing, and amazingly powerful. Banksy routinely makes me chuckle and sometimes makes me think about just how fucked up this world is... in ways that are funnier and more insightful than just reading the news does.

But whereas art that critiques culture is by its very nature 'timely,' dealing with issues that need to be addressed now, inward-looking art is, I believe, more 'timeless.' Questions of what it means to feel love and pain, joy and suffering and loss and death... these are questions which are for everyone, across all time.

So I will take Francis Bacon over Ai Wei Wei any day. 




It must be because I am still trying to understand my own psyche, and I look to other artists for insight and guidance. I trust the sincerity of their curiosity... about themselves. That must be why artist biographies are my favorite genre of books.

Maybe one day I will 'figure myself out,' and maybe I will, at that point, mature into someone who gravitates more to the culturally critical variety of art. It seems like a reasonable possibility. Maybe.


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I consider 'music biography,' or books that trace the careers of musicians, to be a genre which is very closely related to 'artist biography.' Among the few books that I've actually finished in the last few years are biographies of Leonardo DaVinci and Francis Bacon, as well as books about Leonard Cohen and Joy Division. In order for me to finish one of these music books, though, it needs to be well written and it needs to be about a musician (or group) that I actually like. 

I recently received in the mail a newly published book about The Sisters of Mercy, a band I like a lot because... you know, I was a teenage goth. And goddamn, is it well written, because... you know, it was written by my brother, Trevor Ristow. 

I've only had the book for about 36 hours and I'm more than half-way through it. 

I have to say... I am really proud of him. 

He self-funded the publishing and was therefore only able to print 200 copies, which sold out immediately. But there is hopefully a second printing coming soon. Click here for more info.

Nice work, Trev!

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*A bit more about Alice Miller: Her most famous book is The Drama of the Gifted Child. It's amazing; I've read it twice. 
The logical conclusion of Miller's views is that the history of art and the history of the world is a document, a legacy, of the childhood treatment experienced by history's main actors. It's a fascinating theory which makes a lot of sense. 
She contends, in The Untouched Key, that Hitler and Stalin were products of neglectful, abusive, and traumatic childhoods, and that, as adults, they turned the terror they had endured as children back onto the world. 
These insights bring a sense of urgency and importance to the upcoming book by Trump's niece, psychologist Mary L. Trump. Ms. Trump's family history apparently describes "a nightmare of traumas and destructive relationships" and promises to “explain how her uncle became the man who now threatens the world’s health, economic security, and social fabric”. I couldn't have said it better myself. Sounds like an important book. Read more about it here.

Monday, June 8, 2020

Bullet Points

I'm calling this post "Bullet Points" because I'm going to try to write leaner, sharper, less indulgently, and perhaps over a wider range of topics.

• • Plus, I like bullet points. • •

• Way back at the beginning of the pandemic, I wrote that I was really enjoying it because we had so much more time. That was wishful thinking. I tried to make myself believe it,.. and yes, we were driving less.. but having your 9-year-old suddenly at home all the time does not create more time. Parents will understand this. Non-parents... maybe not.

• Christina has handled the home-schooling, and I've been handling the fishing. Kodiak is a fishing maniac, and he's really good at it too. We go down to the Rio Grande a few times a week, and in the time since we started fishing he has caught 24 fish while I have caught 4. We eat a lot of trout. 




• I was recently reading about Rainer Maria Rilke and apparently he suffered an artistic crisis which caused him to take a whole decade to finish a certain book. This made me feel more OK about my little artistic crisis. I'm trying to be a little less hard on myself.

• Christina and I recently got a commission to build a new sculpture for the little town of Arroyo Seco, just north of Taos. It's gratifying to get a cool new job like that, during this pandemic/lockdown/COVIDcrisis. We have to bang out the sculpture in about 6 weeks, and... we are working together... actually collaborating... for the first time ever! The sculpture is called Capsule and you can keep up with it here and here.

• 2019 was a bit of a tough year for Christina and me, as a couple. 2020 is shaping up to be a lot better. It's not something I write about so much on my blog, but Christina is an amazing woman and I am lucky to have her in my life. I love you, Sporrong!

• I've written before on this blog about the psychological component of the divide between right and left, and I continue to be fascinated by it. In my last post I said I had an observation to make about politics, and it's this: Conservatives seem to need certainties, while progressives seem to be more comfortable with uncertainties. Trump and his supporters seize on any new possible treatment for COVID19, declaring it the 'wonder-cure' before the scientific results are even in. Remember Hydroxychloroquine? Liberals seem OK with actually waiting until there is a proven therapy, understanding that these things take time. Conservatives are drawn to religion in part, I think, because it offers a story that answers the difficult questions, while liberals understand that these questions might just not be answerable... and they are OK with that. And it's cross-cultural; conservative westerners hold onto Christianity, conservative middle-easterners flock to Islam, and conservative Jews are pretty into Judaism. Trump blames China for COVID, while conservative Iran blames the USA and Israel. How does this help anything? I'll tell you how it helps: it helps them feel better, having someone to blame. My guess is that it's related to the enlarged amygdala in the conservative brain and the interrelated way in which their worldview is oriented around fear. Life is disorderly, but the conservative impulse is to stamp out the disorder with 'law and order,' stamp out the fear with certainty. Conservatives need certainty. It's comedy.

• I've mentioned before that I collect original paintings from the 1970's cartoon series Wicked Wanda, but those are just one part of a modest art collection that I add to when I can. I just acquired this quartet of drawings from Allison Reimold.




• I've recently come up with a new idea for a large-scale mechanical sculpture, and it's quite interesting to note how inspired I feel by the challenge of building complicated big machines. I'm already beginning to work on a small prototype of it... you know, in my spare time!

• As part of the process of working on Capsule, Christina and I have busted out the clay to work out some of the forms, and that has inspired me to work on another clay sculpture... another portrait / bust. I also picked up some really sculpturally-interesting tree-parts the last time I was at the lumber yard, which are inspiring me to build another human-scale piece like Big Mother. Sometimes it seems like the biggest challenge for me is WHERE to focus the creative energy... big sculptures, or small prototypes, or human-scale tree-sculptures, or paintings, or clay portraits? Hell, I'm a frickin' Renaissance-man. Or at least I would be if I had the time. 

• For now... Capsule. Stay tuned. 



Spring time in Taos is motorcycle season.
(The white tube is for fishing rods!)



And it's beautiful.