2009 Releases
'Art versus Art'
From a talk after his exhibition in November 2009 at the Taupo Museum by Artist Brett Taylor
I would like to share some of the unusual but vital things that go on for me when I work in my studio each day, the influences I've become aware of and how the decisions and directions I choose are impacting the spectators' judgements as well.
I have many valuable conversations with other painters, but one in particular I remember was with Ron Hall. He said he would come home from teaching and be sitting in his studio downstairs, in front of a new canvas by 5.00 p.m. On this occasion he began to consider the vast possibilities before him, the challenges, the questions:
What worked last time? What causes failure? Should I take control?
or Do I keep open to process and other possibilities?
This could be the best one yet!!! This canvas could hold many answers . . . and so it went on
Dinner was at 7:00 and Ron sat at the table captivated by the depth of possibilities and potential we face in an open canvas. It's true, the potential is infinite and the challenges can be daunting. It amused us that the canvas was still blank. There's an important message in that too!
I wish I could say that every day I walk in on bliss and certainty, but it's not the case.
I'm never too long at my work before I'm confronted with decisions so important to perpetuating a chosen direction. All too often there is absolutely no evidence to assist in a decision. It's a matter of trial and I know that every artist, who wants to grow past where they are, faces this always.
The decisions can range from technique: loose or tight, relaxed or intense, application: thick or thin, fast or careful, mood: thought-provoking or emotive - in fact it's infinite. Decisions must be made. It's actually how we become the artist we are.
Unanswered questions in the artist's studio create ambivalence and loss of direction. As a spectator it's quite easy to see; for the artist, it becomes what we call ‘the negative space'. This, unchecked, can have a spiral effect downwards and it happens a lot to a lot of artists.
All too often I find this belief, that we are completely subject to external influences, and this dictates productivity, but this is only a decision too.
I will share with you that there are two genres of art that I love but have to choose between them in my approach. You could say that the choice is between a tight realism and a loose expression.
When I walk into my studio I hope to find, at some stage, a degree of detachment in the day's work. For me this is a wonderful space where things seem to be ‘just happening' and so they do. One's own efforts seem to be secondary; less thinking and more intuition. There is a positive momentum, a domino effect, and everything becomes very productive at this point. It's undeniable and there seems to be another energy in the mix. You would even look at your own work and say "How did I do that?" It's easy to think that this too is often from an external influence.
Every artists knows about this - Jazz clubs in new Orleans were notorious for pursuing this space after hours playing, a little stimulus added in the wee small hours, something could start happening that was unplanned and anyone could step into it if they were sufficiently open to it.
OK - hold on! - let's not get too lofty about this stuff. There is also a very sensible explanation for this experience and it presents another side to the decisions I have to make. The loose splashes of paint and broad smudges of conté that I love, and hope you see in my work, are not a frivolous lack of control. They cannot be done under control, they come unexpected from time and repetition and being quite familiar with the materials. You can see there can't be expression without a discipline. Before my day of painting begins, I have to do a couple of hours drawing first - it's just connecting with discipline.
Story of Hitch-hiker : I picked up a hitch hiker one day. He had dreadlocks, baggy pants and a general unkempt look about him. He didn't have much to say. We drove past the airport. The Air Show was on and before our eyes a pilot swept into land. Before his wheels touched the tarmac he soared upwards twisting and turning his plane in an amazing feat of skill. The hitch hiker commented "He's cut loose" So, behind the illusion of looseness, there is always a discipline.
More recently we have seen a lot of the New Zealand artist Max Gimlett - someone who has always interested me. In bringing up Max's work in conversation I was taken aback to hear a friend say "Oh, the man who throws his paint at the canvas!" I was surprised because I have followed Gimlett's work since he first went to New York and I know there's a lot more to his work than that! The video shows Max Gimlett in the ‘70s in his New York warehouse, sitting alone in front of dozens of blank canvases, laid out on the floor in neat lines, a bottle of ink and a brush at hand. After a long silence in meditation, he would leap at the canvas and make a strong gestural splash of ink, then move on to the next blank canvas. His objective was to find a pure form of expression through detachment - no pre-conceived thought, no cognition . . so he says. This process he uses is to reveal what is really deep down in his sub-conscious. Max describes years of rejection by galleries and his video shows years of discipline and repetition.
I have made an attempt to describe two polarised schools of thinking in art - technique and discipline versus looseness and detachment. So often we see art in one form or the other, in excess and for me, I have had to discover the difference in order to make decisions in this area of my artwork. The journey is fraught with contradictions but the key for me is that these two extremes are not in conflict, but are one and the same; one is conceived from the other. Unfortunately an artist who decides to rely solely on technique can produce cold or clinical work, a learned craft, and the one who chooses just expression can lose order and stability - chaos can creep in.
There are more questions to be asked of course:
Is the art work to be descriptive or prescriptive; representational or conceptual?
Do we paint for the passion, to express for ourselves only, and when does the commercial aspect have a bearing on decisions?
I've always felt art must communicate something to someone, or else you're not connecting. It becomes introspective and so it goes on. Art does reflect life so well - or is it the other way round?
In my exhibition there is a large sculpture named "The Kingdom of God is within you". It is really a product of these things I am discussing - but there's no doubt many more questions are coming. I believe also it is very important that the spectator applies these questions to their own judgement and decisions about art too.
Why do we have preferences and where do they come from? Is it the art or the artist we look at?
Are we keeping completely open to intuition as well as logic?
All these decisions, that come from both the artist and the spectator, are what form contemporary art. I grew up with Dick Frizzell's work developing in the Auckland scene I was in. His pop art is making a good comeback and I was pleased to see in a documentary that this studio had recent works of still life; flowers and bowls of fruit. He values the purity of observation and painting techniques - discipline is so rewarding.
The enduring arts are always just there. I think they hold a depth more compelling than just a clever idea on its own. All this brings to mind an event that helped me to draw a conclusion about the decisions I needed to make concerning my artwork. The agency responsible for doing all the catering for the America's Cup Contenders set up a panel to interview chefs. The successful applicant actually didn't turn up for the interview, but sent a string quartet to represent her application. They played one piece, bowed and walked out. It said everything necessary. A masterpiece in any art form must be composed of many facets working in harmony. Technical skill and repetition are actually what gives birth to looseness and fluent expression. It's both that make the masterpiece.
Looking back on my discussions with Ron Hall, it is amazing just how many decisions we have to make in the art process. Being open to all the external influences inevitably forces the artists to need and seek out the perfect environment to work in, the right music, the right coffee, the right mood - but creativity doesn't come from a place of swaying palm trees and a swimming pool, but from serious deep digging and head-on decision making. Uncertainty can be great motivator, just as a little hunger is the best ingredient to any dish.
As a final example that describes the unexpected in art: There is a story of the Zen masters who pursue principles of detachment in their pottery. They set out to locate which country of potters had best attained these principles in their pots. After much travel and research, the Zen aloofness was perfectly exampled in the pots found at the end of the production line of a factory in Korea. The women there knew their job, were relaxed putting on handles, pulling up shapes and chatting about boyfriends and everyday things. The pots were devoid of mechanical symmetry or excessive thought but showed a relaxed flow and warm humanness.
What a beautiful surprise!
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10 March 2009
The museum is holding an Open Day this Sunday from 10am to 4.30pm, with free entry for all.
"It's our 30th anniversary to the day since the museum began in Story Place" says museum manager Karen Williams. Really, we're just putting our hand up and reminding people we are here and if they haven't called in for a while, to come and take a look".
There will be a tour of the facility for members of the public in the morning at 11 and in the afternoon at 3.30pm, led by staff. The regular hour-long Sunday heritage walk around historical points of interest in the domain is taking place as usual. This starts from the front of the museum at 2pm. There will also be a number of special displays on show and a few surprises such as the museum's Bengal Tiger! A special afternoon tea for Friends of the Museum and invited guests is also being held to mark the occasion.
It is thirty years since Taupo Museum found a home in Taupo in 1979 but today's museum actually has its origins in the Taupo Historical Society which began in 1963. The idea of a district museum had long been talked about but it was in 1970 that the idea was revived at a public meeting chaired by the then Mayor of Taupo Mr Clem Currie.
Plans for a museum went on and off the boil for some time but began to gain momentum again after a museum society called The Taupo Regional Museum and Art Centre was incorporated on 19 September 1975. The first president was Major General Walter McKinnon, vice president and treasurer was Mr John Greenfield. Such was the enthusiasm of the members and many volunteers that even without a home base the society began to stage exhibitions in the old War Memorial Hall from 1976 onwards.
In the late 1970s, the Taupo Borough Council authorised the construction of a new wing on the Taupo Public Library for use by the society. A subsidy of $10,000 was received under the Government's art galleries and museums scheme which was boosted by donations from individuals and local businesses.
Construction took place in 1978 and the museum moved into the West Wing early in 1979. It was soon filled with local treasures many of which can still be found in the museum's collection today. It was a wonderful achievement for the community when Taupo's first museum was opened by Sir Hepi te Heuheu on 15 March 1979.
Of course, today's museum looks very different from that of 30 years ago. After gaining a toehold in the library building three decades ago, the ever-ambitious museum society soon applied to build its first extension. This was a small flat-roofed extension which was added onto the premises in 1982 next door to the Rose Garden.
Ten years later, in 1992 when the Taupo Library moved to its new site close to the Great Lake Centre and I-Site, the Taupo Museum received approval to expand through the vacated premises and quickly did so. In 2001, the central area of the building was gutted and a modern entrance created to allow the building of a wharenui, Te Aroha o Rongoheikume, to house the Reid Carvings. The only major change since then is the addition of the Ora Garden of Wellbeing and the Ora Garden courtyard. These were added in 2006 and have softened the external appearance of the museum complex.
And we must not forget that an early Taupo Post Office, which operated from 1911 to 1940, is still a part of the museum building. Only the wooden timber floor remains in what is now known as the Lake Gallery. Thus, the museum like Taupo history has continued to evolve and change.