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I really enjoyed your article on abstract art and music and agree with most of what you say. My experience truly parallels yours in questioning, and experience with why it is easy for most to accept jazz or classical music without understanding, but have problems when faced with an abstract work of art. What is the difference between the two, though very similar in nature?

In my opinion, sound is communicated directly and instantly from the time we are born and until we can start understanding the messages or meaning, we accept the very abstract language of sound, be it a noise, music or sounds of nature. This is ok because at a soul level, our language is abstract and multi-dimensional. The listener also does not have a choice of not hearing even if he does not understand the sound and thus this becomes part of life and acceptance. With painting, the viewer has a choice, not to look if it is unfamiliar or it is an effort to understand and chooses not to accept. As soon as we started to draw, we tried to copy the realism and communicated bringing in the thinking process. Whenever there is deviation from this or breakthrough in art, it had to be explained and or justified. Even though the creative process comes through imagination and is only later understood and then translated into a thinking process, it has acquired a bad habit of expectation that you are supposed to know before this act of creation. That thinking comes before the imagination and in general, explanation and intellect pays too big a role. The creative process is born of the infinite source, beyond thought and intellect and abstraction gives us that much more freedom to help us to communicate at this level and shift away from the thinking process. The problem is not the lack of education in this area of abstract art, but our society has given too much power to the thinking part of being human. We are so much more than our minds and the dimensions of us, that understand the creation that we are, needs to be honored. It is time to get out of our way, to that quiet space within, and to experience the totality of who we are and perhaps next time when we are asked to explain abstract art, it could be a starting point and our opportunity to guide those who have taken this first step to help them reach that space within themselves where this language of abstraction is familiar to them as it has always been a part of them.

Stop thinking and there is nothing that you will not know-Zen

Hello all, can you say Pandora's Box?  The subject of what makes a work of art authentic has been a topic related to world of art commerce that I have been commenting on for a long, long time.  At first my comments were dissed as being words from a crank.  But now, this subject has made the news big time; especially relating to Andy Warhol and Dale Chihuly. I am indeed smiling. More on this later.  Speaking of art commerce, I am about to put finishing touches on three new commissions. Then it is on to making the frames.  No matter how much we seem to hate the commercial side of this art making business, we still like the money, eh?

To wet your whistles:  here are some sites discussing Dale Chihuly and current court activity---  Some of it touches upon authenticity and some of it discusses copyright.
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/01/us/01glass.html
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002975737_chihuly6m.html
http://www.robertkaindl.com/Lawsuit.htm  (lots of data here)

I have been following the interesting discussions on art and music and it is good to see this site taking off with such a bang. I am not the best when it comes to writing and I do not usually take part in such literal discussions. However, in this instance, out of sheer interest I feel compelled to say something.

All I know is that when I am painting, I always do so to music and when I become one with the music, things go really well. From such moments I realise that the act of painting has little or nothing to do with me. I feel that I am merely a vehicle used for transporting the paint on to the canvas.

Years ago I played saxophone in a band and things went very well. The best times were, when playing, I would only listen to the sax’ player - me- the music would take over completely, and when I finished I would be ‘awakened’ back to the reality of where I was by the crowd.

So when I think about such questions as ‘What is art?’ ‘Where does it come from?’ and ‘How does it work?’ the more I realise that I know absolutely nothing. But then I know nothing of our Universe either so such questioning becomes futile. I try very hard never to let this get me down and as I have got older I have become more resigned and even happy with that. I have refused to carry the weight of the ART questions on my shoulders.

My point here is that I have learnt to let the art dictate to me rather than me dictate to the art. It is nature, as a bird sings – let it happen.

Fran McCann

A very interesting 'question/answer' discussion Ernie. Has got me thinking alright! I have no formal background with which to join in the subject, but below are some personal thoughts:

I suppose we are talking about the effects (or not) of both media on the general masses (ourselves included)? Music in its various genres is everywhere, and we are exposed to it, regardless of class, culture, creed, etc, from a very early age. I dont suppose many of us go through a day without hearing some, somewhere: tv, radio, elevators, shops, cars etc. On the other hand, abstract painting is rarely encountered by us, in our everyday lives (mores the pity). So part of the disparity is probably due to simple exposure, or the lack of. I'm, of course, generalizing here, and should point out that I am ignoring the obvious differences between musical genres: punk versus classical for instance. Nevertheless Art in general and 'modern art' in particular are possibly, by many, seen as extraneous pursuits (sadly). In times gone by, arts' use was in many ways slightly different: the need for an accurate likeness before photography, or a means of teaching the illiterate common man his faith etc., uses that by-and-large have been superceeded by other media. I think also, Ernie, your comment about education is a contributing factor. So what about the similarities? Well having done a little of both, I have found (personnally) that the 'creative' processes of both are somewhat different, in that a musical composition tends to follow (in my experience at least) a rather linear process of 'block upon block' building, unlike my painting which seems rather to wait all until the last moment to be resolved. Also I find the 'time-line' issue when both creating & reviewing both media, at odds with each other. Music has, obviously, to take up a predetermined time and space in its length and breadth, like a short audio novel if you will, whilst paintings, and abstract paintings in particular deny both time and, to a degree, space as well. Their existance seems somehow to bleed past the time in their presence (& the time of their creation) and even their constraints within the frame. Is there a fundamental difference between the acoustic and visual memory? There is no doubt both are able to move one profoundly, as indeed can the recollection of scent. But in the end-game I have found that art, and very profoundly: abstract art in particular owns a rarified place, or language of perculiar loneliness and pathos. I have no idea how to explain it; it has nothing to do with price, ownership, or, as you say Ernie, notoriety. It just seems to me to be out there on its own, occupying a place in life that somehow can't be occupied by anything else. Paintings are used for no other reason anymore, other than to delight, move, annoy those that linger long enough to view them and experience their depths (hidden or otherwise; explained or otherwise). And I for one am satisfied that it is so.

Hi Ernie,

I truly enjoyed reading your words on art and music and generally agree with what you say. However there are a few points that I would like to make by way of reply. I feel that one of the main problems in regard to visual art and music is that the public often seem to have the notion that the painter is translating music rather than creating it.

While I am fully aware that history has given us many artists that have been inspired by or taken their cue from musical composition, (indeed I number myself among them), I feel obliged to point out that in many cases, it is not an effort of  ‘translation’ as it is more a compulsion to discover ‘new form’ which hopefully, in the final analysis, can only be termed ‘musical’.

As the greatest and all-pervasive generator of human emotional responses, music is a condition of being. What begins with the regularity of a heartbeat and vascular-system extends its rhythmic expression from the child beating its spoon in hunger, through to the drumming of the celebratory dance of life (or death) itself.

Just as ceremony is the sophistication of savage ritual, so music is the sophistication of life movement into sound. In music as we know it, this awareness and expression of life movement is translated, through sound, to evoke an emotional - before intellectual - response.

However, there are other kinds of music. Geothe once referred to certain architecture, as ‘frozen music’ and I have always been a believer in Walter Pater’s dictum that all art should ‘constantly aspire to the condition of music.’

This does not mean that it is necessarily an artist’s wish to transpose a sound into its colour equivalent, nor wish to correlate, imitate or emulate any type of musical composition or composer. (Having said that, I must admit that when working at ‘my own music’ certain composers may influence it.)

Music is merely the truthful response of personal existence at any given time and place. There is the music of growth, both microcosmic and macrocosmic, (classically termed “The Music of the Spheres”). This is the resultant combustion of energy that translates this great rhythm of life into a visual phenomenon. For me, much of this music lies in the crowded wilderness of my unconscious from where it often (obsessively) manifests through some unfathomable cognitive connection. This connection is usually initiated by positive conscious feelings that are agitated into expression by unconscious desires, and while I often experience difficulties in getting started, eventually something ‘clicks’ and the unconscious ‘music’ surfaces and resonates (silently) through the studio.

In the case of abstract painting the connections are not so unfathomable. They stem from the fact that, once recognized, there is very little in our lives that cannot be turned into a visual psychological parallel to what we commonly accept as ‘music for the ears’.

Now Ernie, having glanced at the surface of this subject, I would like to mention one other area that you and readers may find interesting. This is ‘Synesthesia’.

To lift cleanly from the dictionary, in neuro-scientific terms, it means the following:

“The word synesthesia, means "joined sensation", and shares its root with anaesthesia, meaning "no sensation." It denotes the rare capacity to hear colours, taste shapes, or experience other equally startling sensory blending whose quality seems difficult for most of us to imagine. A synesthete might describe the colour, shape, and flavour of someone's voice, or music whose sound looks like "shards of glass," a scintillation of jagged, coloured triangles moving in the visual field. Or, seeing the colour red, a synesthesia might detect the "scent" of red as well. The experience is frequently projected outside the individual, rather than being an image in the mind's eye. It is currently estimated that 1/25,000 individuals is born to a world where one sensation involuntarily conjures up others, sometimes all five clashing together (Cytowic, 1989, 1993). I suspect this figure is far too low”.

In relation to art and music there are obviously cases when this anomaly in a creator may be traced. The best example that the dictionary gives us is the Russian composer Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915) who specifically sought to express his own synesthesia in his 1910 symphony Prometheus, The Poem of Fire, for orchestra, piano, organ, and choir. It also included a mute keyboard, a clavier a lumieres, which controlled the play of coloured light in the form of beams, clouds, and other shapes, flooding the concert hall and culminating in a white light so strong as to be "painful to the eyes."

Synesthetes are normal in the conventional sense. They appear bright, and hail from all walks of life. The impression that they are inherently "artistic" seems to me a sampling bias, given that famous synesthetes such as Valdimir Nabokov, Olivier Messiaen, David Hockney, and Alexander Scriabin are well known because of their art rather than their synesthesia. Vasilly Kandinsky (1866-1944) had perhaps the deepest sympathy for sensory fusion, both synesthetic and as an artistic idea. He explored harmonious relationship between sound and colour and used musical terms to describe his paintings, calling them "compositions" and "improvisations." His own 1912 opera, Der Gelbe Klang ("The Yellow Sound"), specified a compound mixture of colour, light, dance, and sound typical of the Gesamtkunstwerk.

So you see, Ernie, there is more to this subject than meets the eye - ear - nose or tongue.

Personally, having studied this fantastic phenomenon, I like to think that in a few hundred years, through evolutionary stages, we will all be synesthetic to some degree and it will be simply a natural extension of our enhanced conscious awareness.

Hoping this may give you food for thought.                                                

A friend looked through the TIA member page and - apparently impressed by the cheerful and youthful look of most TIA members versus my grumpy "seniority" - contributed these encouraging lines:

An artist gets a call from his art dealer.  The art dealer says:
“I have good news and bad news”.
The artists says:
“Ok, the good news first”.
“A man came into the gallery and asked if the value of your paintings
will increase after your demise.  I told him yes,
indeed they will.  He purchased your entire collection”
“What’s the bad news?” asked the painter.
“He’s your doctor”.

With friends like him (and he can't even paint) .... and here is a nice contribution by a true friend:

The Pale Blue Dot

Here is a link to a beautiful 10 minute movie on YouTube. It reminded me of Ted Knerr's article below, in which he comments on the virtue of humility in the process of artistic creation. Here it is, click:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjpSa7umAd8

Abstract art and music - is there a common language?
I would like to discuss the different ways people respond to abstract art and music. Whilst these two different art forms have many significant similarities, many people tend to approach them entirely differently. Why is the attitude so different when they encounter examples in each of these mediums?  Consider the possibilities.

Abstract art -- ‘what does it mean?’ I hear
It's not surprising that many people, who are not conversant with the language of contemporary art, become very puzzled when looking at an abstract artwork. Their confusion is usually triggered by being confronted with an unfamiliar visual experience. Normally when people come across a painting or sculpture, they are looking for visual references they are familiar with. Such references may include landscape features, the human body or ordinary objects they see every day. So when looking at an abstract artwork and their familiar visual references do not come into play, they tend to become confused and bewildered. They are inclined to ask 'what does this mean?' rather than come to the simple conclusion of 'I like it' or 'I do not like it'.

Why is abstract art and music perceived differently?
It is interesting to note that the very same people would not be confused the same way if they just heard a new musical piece. Instead of asking 'what does this mean?' they would certainly come to the simple conclusion 'I like it' or 'I do not like it'. When hearing a new musical piece, people are not making comparisons with the natural sounds they hear in their daily lives, such as sounds heard in a forest, on the beach, in urban settings and so on. They respond to the mood, the melody and the rhythm of the music instinctively. They either like or dislike the musical piece without resorting to reasoning and analysis or looking for a meaning. Their reaction is instinctive, intuitive and quite often emotional. May even play on their heartstrings. This indicates to me that many people appraise abstract art and music entirely differently.

Music is intuitively assessed and accepted or rejected, as the case may be. In contrast, visual art is scrutinised with analytical reasoning, and the viewers are usually looking for a logical explanation. For some inexplicable reason the intuitive approach gets switched off by most people when it comes to contemporary art, especially the non-representational kind.

The parallels between abstract art and music
In this discussion I deliberately have chosen music for comparison. Even though abstract art and music are treated quite differently, I believe there are very strong parallels between these art forms. Creators of abstract art and composers of music apply the same principles in their compositions and they rely on the same basic elements. Their common language is colour, tone, texture, mood, rhythm, harmony, contrast, balance, tension, counterpoint, integrity and so on. The dynamics of the creative process in both these art forms are directly comparable and the parallels are strikingly similar. Yet evaluation and 'understanding' of music and abstract art is altogether different.

Why is it so?
I do not know the reason for this curious divergence and the general lack of understanding of abstract art. As a contemporary artist, I wonder why this is the case and only have a few guesses. I suspect the main reason may be the lack of education in this area. There may be insufficient coverage in schools of any visual arts related subjects. Another reason may be the lack of exposure to such works of art during the formative years in a young person’s life. Are any psychological factors involved?  Is the undue emphasis on sports the culprit?  Is the decline in general knowledge across the board the explanation? Please let me know if you know the answer. In the meanwhile, lets enjoy the enjoyable, including the best of abstract art, without analysing too much, without explaining too much or even thinking too much of the extremely high selling prices some abstract artworks reach in the current art market.

hi karl - i appreciate your invitation to contribute - it came at a serendipitous moment when some new thoughts on art were stirring and seeking clarification - thanks! ........ ted

authentic art

what makes a work of art authentic? enabling it to possess our deepest feelings - even though at first, and maybe for a long time, we were only curious about it and unable to make a true connection - perhaps caught up in our conditioned, busy thoughts about it and how it fit into the art scene and what it meant - but at some point we may have caught sight of it as a presence and our experience changed radically - from interest on a mental level to being gripped by its mysterious power - the power to connect us to the center of our being, our consciousness, to a universal communion with our fellow beings and the world -

it's impossible to translate the source of this presence into words - what components of the artwork combine to create it? does the artist have to be a genius, with a huge talent, intellect, schooling, a master of the medium? too often the artist may have all these qualities and be considered a genius by the public but is unable to produce works of presence - in fact if the artist becomes proud of being a genius the mysterious connection that allows presence to enter the art may be lost - it requires a grateful spirit of humility and a commitment to service to attain this connection - in these moments of enlightenment the artist is a channel for forces that create on a higher level than otherwise possible - and this enlightenment shines out of the work as presence or quality - producing in us a state of enlightenment, if only for a moment, and freeing our obsessive identification with the story in our heads we believe is reality - this is why authentic art is of such value to the world - not because of aesthetics or history or being radically different, but because of its power to transform us -

inauthentic art has the opposite effect - re-enforcing our identification with our false ideas of who we are - all the thoughts that our ego thrives on - that swell our self-importance and celebrate our specialness and separation from others - this pseudo-art prides itself on how clever it is - how 'cutting edge' -and on its 'brand name' that provides an identity-enhancer for those who buy it - to do this it must be expensive so others can't afford it, and therefore is 'exclusive' - a product of our materialistic age and our new academy of the shallow - that have dictated that presence and quality are now unacceptable words for contemporary art - this is because authentic art exposes pseudo-art as a pretentious sham - enlightenment dissolves the false self like water did the wicked witch -

to achieve authenticity the creative process must be conducted within the realm of spirit and without recourse to control - when 'in the zone' the artist (in any field, including sports, etc) must avoid distractions or attempts to force the result toward any desired result - the artist must avoid making judgments and accept unconditionally what is produced - even after the work is finished the artist must remain a humble 'bystander' seeking to understand what has been produced - this understanding may take a long time and requires continuance of humility until a breakthrough arrives - impatience results in the artist becoming judgmental, interfering with the creation and degrading it - authentic creations may be so 'far out', even to their creator, that patience is necessary - for the creator as well as the viewer - avoid consideration of how the work fits into one's previous output - authentic art has no marketing strategy involved in its creation -


ted knerr - copyright 2008
(this prevents loss of my ownership and control of this essay - it may be published only in its entirety, including these credits)

Stephen Gostt, Switzerland

www.stephengostt.com

Nice to see this chain of thought has grown some legs already. Was pondering the various responses, and thought the following artists' qoutes were perhaps pertinant to the discussions? Not, of course, by way of explanation; just embellishment around the unobtainable: the definitive and the concrete.

"The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery." Francis Bacon (painter)

"Painting is a language which cannot be replaced by another language. I don’t know what to say about what I paint, really." Balthus

"Art is made to disturb. Science reassures. There is only one valuable thing in art: the thing you cannot explain." Georges Braque

"I myself do nothing. The Holy Spirit accomplishes all through me." William Blake (poet/painter)

Stephen Gostt

Karl Maenz, Switzerland

www.karl-maenz.com

Thanks Keith, for kicking off the discussion with such a thoughtful analysis. What you write is obviously relevant to the way you paint. Is it also an absolute observation on creativity? I see your current works as a blend of non-figurative abstraction with accents of symbolism, not truly figurative, nor totally spontaneous abstract expressionist “all-over”. If you were a figurative artist - Renaissance, 20th century modernist, or postmodern - wouldn’t your logical left side brain be dominant to relate to the figure you are painting? Or, if you were a non-figurative pioneer (Kandinsky, Mondrian), wouldn’t your theories almost dominate your work? What would you leave to the intuitive, subconscious? And if you were a Jackson Pollock, or a post-modern “action painter”, wouldn’t it all be right side brain, intuitive? So – does the process of creation not also have room for real predominance – either for the logical, planned, or for the  spontaneous, subconscious?  I am not certain you covered this, perhaps I overlooked it.

And then there is the dilemma of explaining art versus the need for humility in front of the miracle of art, that defies intellectual analysis:

Henri Matisse: "When I am submissive and modest, I feel surrounded by someone who makes me do things of which I am not capable. All art worthy of the name is (spiritual, or) it is nothing more than a document, an anecdote."

And an artist friend of mine: "I remember the story of the student who asked the Zen monk about the meaning of life (art) and after going back and forth with the question, and ... receiving only silence as an answer, the student replied: now I understand".

This is a real dilemma. We wish to express ourselves and dialogue about creativity (and I am glad you do), and yet we must leave the miracle of the unexplainable untouched, or the dream vanishes, Picasso’s “touched by God” disappears. David Novak’s “staple gun” comment fits in here. But then, we wish to express ourselves, etc. …. Anyway, these are very subjective observations, thanks again, Keith.

Karl Maenz

This statement by Keith isn't arguable.  Keith's symbol structure, to me, correlates loosely with “classic surrealism”  as I understand and interpret what classic surrealism should be as defined in the art history books.  I can't argue with what he writes.  I have to take him at his word.  If I were to argue his position, I am only saying directly that I like or don't like the images.

My frame of reference to his image is through art history.  I personally don't work and create within this structure.  I have no “internal-isms” from which to launch an argument for or against what he does.  Overall I get strong vibrations from the paintings that indicate to me his sense of seriousness and depth of connection to this approach to painting.  It is strong and knowledgeable intellectually and emotionally as far as I can tell. There seems to be a direct connection to what he writes to what he paints.  Can you say dream?

All of the above being said, Keith and I are not that far apart in our beliefs.  Paragraph by paragraph, my response is positive and “yes” to the detail. It certainly fits into his scheme.  In many ways it fits my scheme as well. The difference between us is in the application.

Now here is the kicker.  In the end I don't think that artist's statements mean much at all in a commercial setting.   The art community connected to business and money and not art, asks artists to make a statement. Most artist statements in this environment today are written to explain the artist's work to a potential buyer.  The statement is supposed to create such excitement in the potential buyer that the check book is whipped out immediately.  This is the commercial end of artist statements.

A statement or statements by an artist on his/her own work also contributes to the dialog about art and what makes it and its participants tick.  From this second perspective, I am very interested in what an artist states about anything to do with life, art, whatever.  This dialog is very important.  This dialog is the stuff of “turning over the rocks” and making discoveries.

Back in the 1960's I saw a show of Australian painter Brett Whitely at Marlborough Gallery in NYC.   The caption on the catalog cover was something like, “would you make a statement about your work?”.  Also on this cover was a picture of him  with a row of actual staples along the lip line.  This was his statement.  I like that.  We all need to pull out the staple guns and staple our mouths shut.  What do we really know about our own work?  I can't see my work as I am too close to it to see it or translate its non-objectivity into words.  I think this is a truth for all abstract painters.  Leave the explanations to the verbalists, the art historians and the advertising agencies.  Sell the damn paintings, boys and girls, and send me the check!

Finally: the art college/university level education system has changed the structures of its courses and their missions today.  They want painters to get involved in the verbal/writing game too; along-side the studio work; a writing directly relating to the studio work; as a requirement for a degree.  OK.  I don't believe this is harmful.  But it can be. Trying to explain the unexplainable in words at the same time painters are learning painting can become schizophrenic.  For me, writing about what I did in my painting while I painted while I was in graduate school was sheer torture (1960's).  I had no idea what I was doing in my painting and my writing revealed this.  I am thankful the University of Iowa/Iowa City (1966 and 1967) didn't require that I write a thesis on my own art.  The MA and MFA thesis had to be based on an art history entity. Otherwise I would have revealed that I had no idea of what I was doing in my painting.  I  enjoyed mushing, throwing, washing, removing, paint on a piece of stretched cotton or linen.  Still do. Does this qualify for a graduate degree?  YES!  See 8 forms of intelligence [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Multiple_Intelligences ]. The main qualifier for my MA and MFA degrees at Iowa was #7; Spacial Intelligence.

Finally. As a painter writing about painting, I am my most enchanted reader and listener!  If you ask me the same question tomorrow, I will have a different answer.  Ain't life grand?

David Novak

Dear Keith, my thanks, for your very interesting observations on the paradox of creation. How true it is, that often the transition from vision/idea to the realm of the physical, is a gulf of space and uncertainty, which must be bravely traversed by the artist: "the painters dilemma ; the blank page?"; and interesting to hear your account, of the way you have perceived the journey into these realms. Many have gone before us, and faced these same dilemmas; the surrealists especially, put great stress on the necessity of the denial of the conscious, and openness to the unconscious, and the 'poet' Jean Cocteau decreed that in order to create, the poet/artist must "die" in order to enter the 'other' realm, where the business of creating could only truely take place. Likening the process to Orpheus' travels into the underworld, searching for his lost love Eurydice. Cocteau using, in his films, the metephor of the mirror as portal between the two worlds, much like Alices' foreys through the looking-glass. In truth the artist has always had to traverse these regions, whether known or not; whether aware or not. We are only more aware of them today, and this is both a freedom and a constraint: as you say, Keith, the denial of the intellect is a necessity for some degree of aesthetic truth; like Picasso, the artist of our time, finds himself having the unenviable task, of unlearning the ways of seeing that in many cases, he/she, has been taught. In order to break through to some sort of newness of process and perception. Of course "there is nothing new under the sun" and the history of 'art' only experiences shifts in usage, meaning, interest, and areas of 'importance' in its own time . There remain many 'laws' which are mostly immovable, but whose importance must be personnally gauged: shape, form, colour, size, depth, composition. At the end of the day, there is the man, the canvas, and the paint: in infinitly engaugeing combinations, and this great leap into the unknown: (the journey may have been exhaustively imagined, but only in the act of its creation is its true form realised/discovered).

Long live the paradox of the painter/creation, for the resistance of it (like pushing at the half opened door) has brought some of the most beautifull works of art into this realm, where men can perhaps at times glimpse the glory and futility of his existence, and ponder his place in time and eternity.

Jean Cocteau: "the poet is dead, long live the poet"

Stephen Gostt