Wednesday, 30 January 2013

Facing My Fear of Joyce Wieland's Self-Portraits

On Thursday, Professor Kelley elaborated on her expectations for our essays. I was already pretty sure that the topic of "preforming the self" would be of the most interest to me. It was left very open as to how we could interpret the topics, but Professor Kelley gave Joyce Wieland as an example of a good artist to to do for the topic I had chosen.
I immediately had the thought that I didn't want to do that--that I would find someone else to do my essay on. Later, as I found myself unable to think of anyone I thought I would rather write about for the topic, I returned to Joyce Wieland. I agreed that she would probably be a good subject for the paper, but for some reason I felt strongly that I didn't want to write about her; It was not because I didn't admire or appreciate her work. I had to ask myself, why did I feel such a strong aversion to writing my "preforming the self" essay on this particular artist.
Upon further reflection--much of which was done on a long car ride, where I think best--I realized why I most likely feel this way; we learned in class about a few of Joyce Wieland's struggles, and how she split up from Micheal Snow, never having been able to have a child, with him re-marrying and having a kid with his new wife, and then how she suffered from Alzheimer's. 
I feel guilty about thinking so much on these aspects of her story, because I often find myself getting annoyed that women writer's, artists, etc. are too sometimes judged more by their personal lives then by their body of work, and I certainly do not want to perpetuate that.
I wouldn't be surprised if that feeling of not wanting to study Wieland's self-portraits has something to do with the fact that all those things that happened to her are things that I am afraid of happening to me, and I'm probably not alone in this.
This is why I have chosen to research Joyce Wieland for my "preforming the self" essay. I think about what a self portrait is, and what I am doing when I make a self-portrait. I wonder about the function of Wieland's self portraits; are they ways of re-interpreting her identity in the wake of struggle and loss, a way of facing the effects those things have had on her, a little of both, or something completely different. Anyhow, if Joyce Wieland was able to face herself enough to paint a self-portrait, then I better well be able to--and I think that I might learn a thing or two.

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Thoughts on Alex Colville...

In class today, we looked at many examples of Alex Colville's work, as well as some of Christopher and Mary Pratt's work.
Both as an amateur artist and as an appreciator of art I greatly admire Colville's technique, and the way that it shapes the viewing experience of his work. I appreciate the precise use of geometry in his composition, as well as the unique angles that he chooses; these things seem to urge the viewer to engage with his work even in some cases where the subject matter is not quite as interesting (and doesn't "do much for me" either). There are still other cases, though, where his intriguing choice of angles and use of geometry combine with more subject matter and scenes that I find much more interesting (such as in his painting "Horse and Train"), which makes his work really incredible.
I really like the over-all "vibe" or feeling that I get when viewing Alex Colville's work; I definitely recognize that feeling of "dread" that was discussed in class. In most of his paintings I find there's this sense of the-calm-before-the-storm, and though most visual art doesn't make noise, his scenes--to me--seem especially quite, and still...maybe even heavy, if that makes sense. I think his use of geometry, unique angles, and lack of colour saturation really contribute to this.
There are many aspects of Colville's work that a appreciate, but there is one tendency of his that I couldn't help noticing this afternoon, and which I find a little bit--I'm going to use the word annoying. That is the lack of diversity when it comes to his subjects. It was pointed out in class that his figures tend to be fairly generic, and I know that must be a purposeful way of achieving the effect that he is going for, but...I don't know; I just found myself becoming a bit irritated seeing painting after painting of white (probably middle class, given their setting and clothing), light-haired folks.

Of course, Alex Colville is a product of his time, and I realize he was mostly using his own family for models, and moreover it is doubtless that many painters, film makers, TV show creators, advertisers, and creators of other forms of media are also sorely lacking in racial or class diversity in their work both today and in the past. As well, I do not at all believe that Colville was trying to be discriminatory at all. Come to think of it, I'm not even necessarily arguing that his work would be better if it were any different, because a break in pattern of the generic white, middle-class figures--even in this day and age--might alter the experience of his paintings...All I'm saying is that Alex Colville has been called a regionalist, and I guess I just find myself feeling a bit annoyed that some parts of the "region" seem to be left out of his work. It might not even be fair of me to be making this criticism given the time that Colville began his career, and this certainly does not keep me from enjoying a lot of his work.


Thursday, 17 January 2013

Blindness and "Projective Reconstruction" + the Nihlist Spasm Band



Murray Favro, "Synthetic Lake"
As we discussed several images of Murray Favro's series of pieces, "Projective Resconstruction", I couldn't keep my mouth from falling open a couple times. I thought that both the intellectual process behind the works and the effort (both mental and physical) that it must have taken to plan them and carry them out must have been incredible. I thought that, but mostly, actually I was thinking--practically bouncing around in my seat, thinking how much better it would be to see these pieces in person, and wondering how I might possibly do that. I would especially love to see his piece, "Synthetic Lake", although choosing between that and "Van Gogh's Bedroom at Arles" would be difficult. I realized later that I kind of just assumed that along with the projection onto and the rolling of the canvas for "Synthetic Lake" there would be a audio track of waves crashing against a shore, but I don't know if that is the case. I think it would be pretty great, though.
I remember watching a movie once, in which there was a couple (a man and a woman), and the man was blind but then he had some kind of operation to restore his sight. After the operation was a success, he had to be slowly introduced to life as a seeing person because it was such a huge transition and all. The doctor showed him a picture of an apple on a magazine, and he was a little confused and kind of upset because it wasn't a real apple, and he wasn't used to representations of things, I guess--as a person who had not been able to see his whole life. I really wonder what he would have made out of "Projective Reconstruction". Before the surgery he may not have been confused at all by "Bedroom at Arles" or "Still Life" because he would have been able to feel something substantial with his hands, which might live up to the titles of the work--"Synthetic Lake" might have been a sufficient experience for him as a blind person feeling the work, but the gap between a seeing person's experience and his would be larger since the exact texture and shape of the waves is mostly visual. After the operation, given that he was no longer permitted to touch the work or get too close, both "Bedroom at Arles" and "Still Life" might not be very confusing for him at a glance, but he might not be able to grasp that what he saw was not what was actually there--not very shortly after having the surgery, anyway. "Synthetic Lake", however might have been quite confusing, since it is quite obvious because of the mechanisms visible under the rolling canvas, and the containment of the water, and yet the movement and realism of the lake. Obviously I have no experience or education on the phenomenon of the effects of regaining sight on people who were once blind, or how that might manifest in the setting of an art exhibition like this; these are just my speculations.
Returning to the subject of my itching to see these pieces in person, as a substitute I decided that it would still be pretty great if I could find a video of "Synthetic Lake", but I searched Youtube to no avail. I did, however, find this video of the Nihilist Spasm Band playing a song entitled "Ode to Murray Favro". I guess I kept wanting the words to mean something, although given their music is kind of related to the Dada movement, I suppose the words aren't meant to mean anything...I liked the noise, though (but I'm not sure how much of it is due to the quality of the video).