Max Beckmann: Blind man's bluff
I find this time period not dissimilar to the one Beckmann was experiencing and feel that fascism is on the rise again, not just in Europe but across the world. Fascism relies on oppositions, it sets people against each other and destroys the delicate connections that we have with one another, replacing them with fear, alienation and collective unthinking action. Beckmann wanted to visualise what he called "the profound mystery of all—the human I am". Therefore he began with an investigation of himself. In the context of his fleeing from Nazi Germany, you can see that he understands that art can have a role in maintaining human sympathy and understanding during times of intense turmoil; in order to do this he visualises the world as a vast stage where the artist constructs metaphorical images of both his own life and the trauma of history. He had set himself a high bar, one I would like to aspire to, but don't have the resources to accomplish to the same level. However my memory of Beckmann's writing has inspired me to put down my own thoughts as to why I think my personal pursuit of art is useful.
I wrote recently that whether I'm making a drawing of the landscape in front of me or constructing a drawing out of my imagination, both are projections of a single totality. This is something central to my practice as an artist, so bare with me as I try to unpick this somewhat.
The inside and the outside, landscape and the body, fantasy and reality, objective drawing and imaginative play, all are at one time or another seen as opposites and yet when looked at from another perspective they can all be seen as being part of the same venture, that of visualising the experience of being conscious.
From drawing a life: 2026
Visualising the experience of being conscious is a complex artistic and philosophical challenge because consciousness is an entirely subjective experience. However whether or not it is physically experienced or not depends on whether or not you argue for its understanding as embodied. I believe that as I am a very different physical entity to a dog, my consciousness will be shaped into a more human like form, which is itself physical. It is always a "first-person" experience, composed of "qualia", (a term for the information that comes in to the brain), whether this is from outside the body via the five senses or from inside via interoceptual feelings. As an artist I have to use various metaphors and abstract concepts to visualise this. Subjective experiences of consciousness are the ones that we think of as "what it's like to be". This inner awareness is what I am trying to communicate to others that have only a limited awareness of what I might be thinking. The aim is to grow that joint awareness. In the image, 'Drawing a life' above, I attempted to visualise another life, one that I was aware of through various conversations and from glimpses of that life given to me via my computer screen, it is though also a projection of a single totality, my feeling tone having filtered the information coming through and although the image is of another individual's narrative, it is, like all the other images I make, a product of my own consciousness. Perhaps the best realisation of this would be my sketchbooks, where observational drawings sit alongside imaginative investigations of ideas and where iterative thinking is used to find out what it is I'm thinking about as an image. These sketchbooks I tend to think of as batteries, storage devices that are also energy converters.
As an artist I try to externalise and make physical those hidden feelings and perceptions that I have. In doing so I aim to close down the difference between my experience of being conscious and another person's experience of being conscious. But as feelings, thoughts and sensations are private, they are impossible to describe objectively. However, I am aware that damage to the brain directly effects consciousness, which tells me it must in some way be dependent on physical structures. I'm also aware of evolutionary theory, which posits that things evolve because they are useful. Therefore consciousness will probably have evolved as an adaptive function for complex information processing and interaction with the environment. If so, by engaging with it, hopefully I help myself and others become more aware of it and how we use it to become more aware of the consciousness of others.
As consciousness is a phenomenon where subjective experience meets physical reality, engaging in art making in order to investigate it does therefore feel as if it is a good move. Every art object made is in effect the externalisation of a thought. But not just that, it is a physical embodiment of a dance that occurs between the material properties of the media of making and the consciousness that sits within the shape and form of a human being. I can't step outside of my body, but I can watch others who have similar bodies to myself do things. As they move they also react to other things, perhaps grimacing as they lift a heavy weight or smiling as they are touched by another human, as I watch I can begin to see a possible connection between my own responses to situations and the responses of others. I can begin a process of guessing or having intimations of the awareness of the minds of others. If I can guess what someone else might feel by observing their actions and reactions, then I might be able to make something that stands as a substitute for the process. Inner feelings and outer perceptions are constantly in play as I experience the world and both come into play as I make a piece of art. This is why, (and I shall now repeat what I have just written above), when I'm visualising things that attempt to crystallise experiences, the inside and the outside, landscape and the body, fantasy and reality, objective drawing and imaginative play, can all be seen as being part of the same venture, that of visualising the experience of being conscious, which is what I suspect all artists are in fact trying to do. In my case my images are thought of as projections of a single totality, a philosophical stance as much as a political position.
Recent work has involved a process whereby an initial installation idea was visualised by myself using Photoshop and then developed in conversation with a curator, who decided on what furniture to buy from second hand furniture shops in Graz, based on my initial idea.
See also:
The first visualisation for the installation reflecting on loneliness
Final installation: Forum Stadtpark, Graz: "Islands of Loners"
Details: Images taken during the construction of the installation
Some of the 'votive' lino cut prints used as part of the installation
An early tryout for an installation of the 'choir'
The installation included ten of my lino prints, a blanket and pillow cases designed by myself and printed commercially, as well as forty ceramic figures making up a 'choir' of singers and several 'votives' that I had shipped to Austria for the purpose. This complex could have become very fragmented, however I hope that it cohered due to the fact that the installation was both a product of many years of my visualising the experience of being conscious and the fact that I'm still prepared to listen to the advice of others. It is a projection that has emerged out of the totality of my life's experience and as such I regard it both as personal as the prints displayed within it and as collaborative as the many images that have emerged out of conversations I have held with others. Art is a collective experience beset and troubled by the paradox of individualism; therefore I must express my gratitude to the team of Forum Stadtpark curators, who managed to tactfully help shape the final outcome.
So does a work of art still have a role in maintaining human sympathy and understanding during these times? Beckmann visualised the world as a vast stage whereby the artist could construct metaphorical images of both his own life and the trauma of history, however I have not had to witness the 'trauma of history' in the direct manner he had to; I see it via newsfeeds and on screens. My work evolves out of conversations, it acts as small moments of solace or as reminders of the shifts in our inner feeling tone, as we experience life's changes. Unlike Beckmann, who had a powerful vision of what he wanted to achieve, I struggle to clarify my own approach to art making, but out of that confusion, perhaps a different sort of myth arises, less heroic but more achievable and of the quotidian, rather than the cosmic.












No comments:
Post a Comment