Civilization & Its Discontents

Happy Work

“The daily work of earning a livelihood affords particular satisfaction when it has been selected by free choice. And yet as a path to happiness work is not valued very highly by men. They do not run at it as they do after other opportunities for gratification. The great majority work only when forced by necessity, and this natural human aversion to work gives rise to the most difficult social problem .”

-Sigmond Freud

Considering: The Experience of Magic

Responding to an article by Jason Leddington in The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism.

This article is an intriguing read and lead me through the thought process with ease while positing interesting questions to posit if you are looking to further the conversation. While in the graduate program at UNC Chapel Hill, I had an interesting conversation with a peer about the relationship between the fine arts and magic. We struggled to articulate what makes magic, ‘magic’ in order to apply its properties to our work. This article is one I wish had existed to aid that conversation. Leddington makes a clear point that magic, however important, “is badly understood”.

Leddington outlines some important misconceptions, such as that magicians work to fool the audience, but the trickery is a means to an end. The magician works to create an illusion. The second misconception leads to an important point, that the topic of the supernatural is best left to the fictional narrative as magicians need you to engage in a futile search for solutions, explanations for how the seemingly impossible act could be possible. The supernatural provides an explanation that disengages the viewer from actively participating.

Art historian Carrie Lambert-Beatty has presented a definition of the term ‘parafiction’ in relation to a genre of art, which has been garnished with a buddy term: parafact. The oversimplification is that artworks that deal with the gap between fiction and fact lean either towards the gradient of fiction blending into fact (parafiction) or fact blending into fiction (parafact). In the case of magic, Leddington’s outline of magic places it squarely in the world of parafact. My initial assumption would have been to place magic in the opposite category, but magic functions best when it begins in the factual, real world and draws you into fiction. Magicians achieve this by presenting the impossible as just that, impossible. The viewer is expected to look and disbelieve it is possible and will feel validated if the magic fails. The magical element arises when the magician then represents the impossibility by systematically eliminating all possible causes to explain the act.

““So, while the experience of fiction requires imaginative success, the experience of magic consists in a kind of imaginative failure.””
— Jason Leddington

After reading this article, there are are two terms that, should I find the time, I would like to pursue to generate synonymous links to the fine arts in general and to my own process:

Alief: In this article, this term comes with complicated subtext to allow for paths of more detailed research that is not followed in this article. The benefit is that Leddington leads up to this door shows us the room and turns away to continue the more general conversation regarding magic’s definition. Connecting alief with magic, could also serve connections to the fine arts. I can see how artists would prefer viewers to experience alief then in front of their work. For a viewer to experience a tension between what they believe to be true and what they feel in the moment.

Aporia: A state of bafflement becomes a temporary stopping point for the viewer, although they are left with an interlocutor to ensure the experience is not forgotten. When the magic performance ends the viewer is ideally left with no explanations for what they experience but is challenged by the experience to let it churn in the deep algorithms of the subconscious mind. Leddington leaves us with a statement that when we seek magic, we seek “an aporetic experience for its own sake.” The use of aporia in the context of magic ties magic to traditional philosophy, which gives a metaphorical bridge to the fine arts.

As a painter, I must learn from successful magicians. How can I paint in such a way that  a viewer sees factual information, then gradually comes to realize the impossibility of the work to be left in an aporetic state?

Where is the frame?

I’ve never had difficulty accepting professionally pre-made materials and resources as an essential part of the creative procedures for producing artwork. Tubed paint, pre-stretched canvases, standardized paint brushes, these are common examples of methods painters and artists in general have accelerated developing their work. Ready-mades are also an established medium for art production. But through exploring digital platforms for production it is clear that there is no such thing as self-made content. Every part of any creative interface is a pre-made element, establishing constraints and parameters through professionally manufactured design tools. This is certainly ideal for any creative professional designing and interacting with digital products; honestly, the algorithms for oil paint and water color effects are impressively satisfying. I have made custom digital brushes from images and drawings to use in my digital work. Even with the procedure of creating brushes, the structure holds preset parameters for the style of application, spacial and angle distribution of the content within the stroke, etc. Making the whole process feel less like I was able to be innovative and more like I could make a small variation of what has already come to pass. Don’t get me wrong, this is good. I was attracted to the idea of building imagery from imagery to further nest remix concepts into the procedure and this does just that. If I can now be the DJ for making brushes, adjusting parameters with a sliding bar for a future performance, the next question is more about how long the song can be - or the image-generating/paining equivalent. Subsequently, the convenience and efficiency of image-generation mainly leads to an age-old question that painters love to ask: Where is the frame?

Perhaps by setting the terms ‘border’ and ‘frame’ to be synonymous, I can simply reference the length and width set by the document as the “frame” and call it a day. Sadly, that feels insufficient, especially as those parameters are adjustable by the whim of a keystroke. In painting, the frame is commonly mistaken for that decorative border around a work of art, but that is only a vehicle for the gallery to transition the work to the consumer. To skip some philosophical steps, I’d like to argue where the frame is by deciding what the frame is. The frame is a transition point, a space between moments. In this sense, today we can find the frame mounted around our screens/monitors. This interpretation of the frame puts artwork in every home, most peoples hands and simply makes it unavoidable. It’s been very interesting to see how galleries have responded to the COVID-19 pandemic, but at least now galleries are coming to grips with the fact that the space between what artist make and what is consumed isn’t always a physical space.

The Value of Value

In a series of works I produced, called “Intangible Analysis”, I leveraged a muted color pallet to accentuate the impact of value ranges on composition by reducing the impact of hue. This was intended as a developmental part of my thesis work and I would reintroduce vibrant colors later. These works have stuck in my head and I feel there is something else, perhaps intangible, about working close to a greyscale that not only accentuates composition, but topics on value as well. Determining value in most professions is typically a straight forward economic endeavor. In creative and design fields, the conversation of economic value is regularly balanced with considerations of socio-cultural and aesthetic values making the topic of value a nuanced, subtle conversation. I would like to consider if painting with a muted color pallet can be a strategy for discourse on social, cultural, aesthetic and economic value synchronously?

To pursue this in my recent digital works, I’ve made a few pieces in greyscale. In an immediate self-critique, I think the application of pure black/white greyscale looses complexity and nuance that comes with a muted pallet.

To Remix is to Subvert

Adopting “Monstrous Deviations”

As a prerequisite, the best outline of contemporary remix theory that I’ve come across is the book, Of Remixology: Ethics and Aesthetics after Remix by David J. Gunkel. I don’t intend to summarize the book, but simply want you to be aware that it heavily influences the choice of words I will use. The ideas presented in the book are framed in a peculiar way to help explain a paradigm shift from traditional platonic representations to today’s conditions. In particular, the term “monstrous” is not necessarily to ignite fear, but respect. With an idea that no one can produce content separated from all other content produced, we are forced to confront that when we produce anything, we bear the weight of all things produced, hence the monster. When an artist works, they are not “first” or “original”, but are part of a long ongoing relationship with strains of other artist’s work they are aware of (consciously or not). Gunkel uses (and appropriates on his own from Gilles Deleuze) the metaphor that with each production of work, the author/artist either adopts a monstrous child or forces that child onto past author/artists, either way, it is passed around from author to author, artist to artist.

As a father, the idea of our work being connected, not just through a particular lineage, but through a system of adoption ignites the idea of family as an essential characteristic of remix theory. I will continue to flesh this idea out in the future, both in writing but mainly through the work. For now, on to the brass tacks: How does this affect the work?

What is essential is a change in procedure for my own work. Before proceeding to those changes, I must be aware of issues I’ve come across in the past. Consider if each line I draw or brush stroke I place is a result of a mixture and mashing up of the content I’ve absorbed as a human being. This becomes particularly dangerous with the existence of the internet establishing a global cultural influence. If I was to continue in ignorance of this, I would produce work reminiscent of traditional cultures not my own, but present them as if I created them. This becomes an appropriation that is problematic and has been perpetuated in the past by the idea that I could be some white male genius. I know for certain I am no genius, but I am white and male, so 2 out of 3 isn’t great odds for me to correct this on my own. With that in mind, my work will adjust procedurally to consider the following:

  • While I certainly am unable to completely clarify all influences throughout my entire life, moving forward, I will purposefully choose content to work with and include it verbatim in the work or make it easily available for reference.

  • To empathize with the content chosen, I will research its aesthetic structure by manipulating the image. (Trace, crop, cut, copy, replicate, stretch, colorize, etc.)

  • When remixing, I will keep reference points intact to clearly allow similarities to the chosen content. For example, if there was a song that mashed up songs from Frank Sinatra and Beyoncé, you would want to recognize both and something new from the mashup.

  • When confronted with binary aesthetic decisions (good/bad, beautiful/ugly, balanced/unbalanced, etc) I will employ a double gesture to confront traditional decisions:

    • I will side with the depreciated term. (bad over good, grotesque over ordinary, etc.)

    • I will mark the interval between inversions by siding with the unknown/undecidable concept. When viewing results of remixing imagery, I will look for the unexpected result, the anomaly in the data to be promoted.

There are certainly more steps I can and will take to grow my art practice. My hope is that remix theory articulates a practice that doesn’t negate my past, but recognizes it and determines a procedure that doesn’t have me circling back around to where I’ve been before — staring at another blank white canvas in a white studio space, expecting my white male self to be a genius and produce new content.

Remix is “good” to the extent that it is able to blaspheme and short-circuit existing configurations of cultural hegemony. - David J. Gunkel, pg. 171

In the works below, I’m initiating this remix practice in digital painting by introducing a set of images. I’m including a gallery of works and another gallery below with referential content.

COVID-19: Digital Painting

In the midst of a pandemic, resources are scarce and standard operating procedures for physically making artwork have shifted. In an effort to adapt, as well as share in the camaraderie of a nation adjusting to remote relationships, I have chosen to expand my painting practice to a fully digital platform. What is essential to me here, is that the imagery is designed with the mode of consumption via digital screens. Paper prints of the images are considered a secondary, less ideal option and physical presence is not constrained to one place at one time. I will be working mainly with Adobe Creative Cloud products, such as Illustrator, Photoshop, Fresco, Capture and more.

The initiation of this endeavor will be to explore the medium by understanding the tools. I have already received training for Adobe products while earning my MFA at UNC Chapel Hill, so I will progress this knowledge by learning how techniques can be used to focus in on a particular thesis.

From interacting with digital fabrication equipment on a regular basis, I have learned that it is easy to get caught up in technicalities, especially when the goals are precise. In my case, I’ve left my goals to be explorative to understand the rhetoric of digital painting. The following are images where I’ve explored a variety of tools and techniques.

I welcome any opinions about the work as it is presented here. To let me know your perspective, please simply send me an email.

Who, What, Where, When, Why and How

The word “art” is a catch-all term utilized with the same function as “other”, “they/them”, etc. It simply signifies the unknown or some randomized variable operating outside of socio-cultural spheres of comfortability. Nevertheless, art cannot be removed, dissolved, forgotten or disassembled. Art belongs on the periodic table (metaphorically) as it is a core element of the universe. With that said, there’s an illusion in play when we apply simple questions to art -- it’s as if art hears us ask “what is art” and it becomes reflective or we ask “when does something become art” and it becomes a vacuum of space and time. Questioning art with the words, “Who, What, Where, When, Why and How” causes an illusion of depth in flatness. When we ask questions about art and posit theories for its structure and existence, we are adding on to the base element of Art; which is fine if we can simply comprehend what we’re doing and take ownership of it. 

To truly capitalize on art, we must  take note of the chemical reactions that occur when art interacts with other elements. For example, our goal might be to add a ‘who’ or a ‘what’ or a specific ‘how’ to art, then mix it with love or anger or ambivalence. We might see a result of controversy or complacency, perhaps nothing at all, but we must be aware of the exponential complexities when we add to art before we test its reactions to the natural world. Art is a subtle element that assimilates almost everything it touches. It absorbs and pulls properties from the world around it, making it hard to distinguish on its own. Honestly, if we could truly experience the base element of art, perhaps we would see nothing at all; at least until it comes into contact with something else. We tried to sell art and it exposed the raw hide of capitalism, we have put art in a white cube and it ate the cube. We tried to make it our own and it shook free and dispersed itself to everyone. Art will take something mundane and make it interesting or take the exciting and providing disillusionment. Art can melt the most rigid ideas and give strength to undeveloped concepts. Sometimes I wonder if art needs us to activate it, as if it would be dormant otherwise, or if art is struggling free of our refinements and would become more active without our interactions.

To call ourselves an artist is not merely to mean that we have obtained a high level of skill in crafting objects or that we are able to form ideas otherwise un-conceptualized. An artist simply recognizes art. Perhaps, in crude terms, an artist can expose, hide, and manipulate reactions caused by art to achieve desired results. But at the core of the artist’s role, is something both scientifically tangible and intuitively intangible. Artist have an obligation to discover art. It doesn’t take genius or some other socially constructed and distributed characteristic to be an artist. To say ‘anyone can be an artist’ may technically be true, except that it’s not. The role of the artist is activated by the search for art, education about art or a simple love for a chemical reaction produced by art. Regardless of how the role is activated, the duty of the artist remains the same in its complex simplicity - go find, know, learn, discover art; but for the love of all things good, please don’t be deceived into thinking it’s something you make.

Are we there yet?

By sampling and synthesizing imagery from a broad cultural lexicon, I am creating paintings that are conceptual and process-driven collaborations with technology and my family. Engaging with contemporary remix theory, new digital technologies and my personal lens of fatherhood, my work is examines historical concepts of the mythologized, autonomous genius, alone in his studio, as an archaic ideology. Expanding notions of my painting practice to embrace concepts of sampling, mashups, and open-source platforms, I am subverting the personal ego in favor of my enthusiasm for fatherhood.

In my work, male figures and horses from art historical paintings and printmaking emerge as vectored distortions of their canonical marks, remixed with 1990’s comic book explosions and iterations of Ninja Turtles. Honoring my role as a father, I invite my four young children to collaborate in the studio, effectively eroding the precept of a lone male painter; simultaneously creating a studio practice supporting and defining a variation personally valuable and dear. 

The material presentation of my work supports this domestic role, and subverts the preciousness of the painted objects. Utilizing materials from “Big Box” hardware stores, such as full sheets of 4’ by 8’ boards, latex house paint, and rollers, the paintings are visually and materially “fractured”; with spandex, plastic and wooden shapes playfully mimicking the painted forms and gestures. The pieces are presented in the gallery via stacking, leaning and tilting, at times their rigged hanging devices exposed in a manner to become dominant formal components pulling the traditional gallery hanging system to the forefront.

In my thesis show, “Are We There Yet?”, I have revealed my studio practice as one that is less concerned with being the originator/creator, but that of a narrator/coder/hacker. My thesis exhibition juxtaposes art historical references with lowbrow cartoon and comic visual culture; integrated with a frenzy of intimately painted marks from my children. My own hand articulates the compositions, using painterly dexterity to create and complicate the visual space within the paintings, and materiality of the objects. Fractured narratives within the works are as much a eulogy to the canon as they are a satirical and thoughtful examination of the mobility of discourse.

An Intangible Analysis

An explorative, interest driven pedagogical approach to discovering art, developing relevant skills for the recognition of art, and navigating the subtle intricacies woven through art and life via painting.

If I’m being hopeful, my approach to art could be a model through which my four children can find inspiration as they approach life. Through creative problem-solving, encouraging interpersonal skills, honing craftsmanship and a myriad of healthy, holistic pedagogical concepts -- my work embraces enthusiasm and passion at the forefront of my process. I regularly find myself living within an interstice of boldness and delicacy as I navigate our contemporary culture that accepts philosophies of remix and collaboration as essential characteristics of artwork. 

This series of work is titled “An Intangible Analysis” as it was motivated by a wide range of influences but held to an analytical approach for comprehending the effects of artwork. The materials utilized for this work employed an interdisciplinary approach as I worked with the maker-space on UNC Chapel Hill’s campus, BeAM (Be A Maker), to vinyl cut, laser etch/cut, 3-D print my vision for the work. The paintings themselves are an extension of a collaborative workshop. The workshop encouraged participants to select from my personal archive of reference images a small group of 6 or less images. I then selected a small group of images as a starting point for a painting, a point of departure that accepts the power of influence within my process.

I’ve accepted the label of painter, especially since my most common medium is acrylic paint, and I believe painting has an enhanced potential in its capacity as both a physical object and image. My will continue to engage with the enthusiasm of discovering art through painting as an open, interactive space enhancing the mobility of discourse.