What role does confession play in surrealism? Is surrealism, by its
nature of spontaneity, personal? Or does surrealism attempt to hide the
personal behind gibberish and symbols?
Nik
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UPDATED! Feb 2nd, 2000 -- go look!
The Nik Maack Art Gallery
http://members.xoom.com/gotnik/
i know that most people would consider the bulk of what I write as pure drivel,
but i do think that my writings express feelings and thoughts that capture
emotional states of a period of time. in this sense, they are confessional to
a relative degree. a confession may not be the intent of any of the writings,
but i use characters and objects to express emotions that i'm feeling or unable
to express in an articulate, rational way.
my writing is an extension of my mind, so what you'd find in *me* is the same
pseudo-schizo, often bitter (I tease Dale about being bitter because I usually
am when I do -- anger displacement), stream of impressions: colors, characters,
radical juxtapositions, made up words intended for aural effect, etc.
It's difficult to get past one's own collectivity of thoughts, feelings, moods,
neuroses, etc. Although, if I spend 2 months reading Breton, my writings would
reflect that. there would be more explication and translation than
confession.
I can understand why a developed intellect might lead to one feeling that they
don't really understand themselves. I play guitar. I've developed by trying
to master the licks and styles of my favorite guitar players. Along the way,
I've heard people say that I sound like the people I've been emulating. When
I'm on stage playing licks that makes me sound like someone else, somehow my
own voice has been repressed. Perhaps the same thing can occur with an
extremely well read person.
But this is just another question.
I don't believe the intent was to 'hide' anything. As you said, it was a
form of exploration, a way of realizing/understanding desire. Of course
this could have also been a method for Breton to uncover who was the
homosexual of the group, but i'd doubt that.
john
I think an analogy can be made between "confessionals" and the work of a
surrealist. For a surrealist there is no place for lies or denials. By
definition denial go against the surrealist cause. In someway
confessionalism is the same. Of course, we can't really see confessional
poets, or individuals who confess to priests as surrealist. I believe they
are dealing with a system built up from the foundation of the Church's
artificial "guilt." A surrealist does not confess, and by that I mean
admitting guilt, anxiety, or even pain, but lets all emotions arrive
autonomously [including those previously stated]. This is the most personal
form of expression.
Obviously, you haven't been reading my posts for the last year and half in
which I have stated that the use of symbols can only be a rational construct
and therefor not surreal. This is why Dali's later work is not consider
surrealist, but mystical. It is not personal, but Dali hiding behind the
facade of "showmanship."
"Brandon J. Freels" (fre...@teleport.com) writes:
> Obviously, you haven't been reading my posts for the last year and half in
> which I have stated that the use of symbols can only be a rational construct
> and therefor not surreal.
I disgagree -- symbols are not always "rational constructs". For example,
I can have a dream where, say, I encounter an enormous frog. It's huge.
One eye is red, one eye is blue. Its belly appears to be made of glass,
and inside of it I can see all the home movies my parents never took.
I have no idea what this symbol means. I just made it up. I can now take
this symbol, still having no idea what it means, and make art from it.
Most likely, I would do so in an attempt to understand the symbol.
But at no point is this symbol a "rational construct". It was made out of
the irrational and it stays that way, even as I make it into an artform.
A symbol is a rational construct when it is manufactured. That is, say I
want to create a symbol for the arrogance of the world. How about an
eternally burning book, with blank pages? I like that.
Even though this burning book of mine is a construct, it says more than I
intend it to say. That's one of the beauties of symbolism. Forget what
your English teacher taught you -- a symbol does NOT necessarily mean one
thing. Even as I construct it, it goes beyond my grasp. So even as I
create a "rational construct" symbol, it goes beyond my intentions, and
becomes "irrational".
My burning book of blank pages meant one thing to me; what it means to
you, Fascinan, Divablue, or anyone else is what makes it "irrational".
Symbols are inherently irrational, so long as they aren't incredibly
obvious.
The works that survive the longest are the ones where the symbol is
controlled, but open to suggestion. Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" is a
good example of this. The book has MANY different interpretations. The
monster represents technology gone wrong, birth, creation, childhood, and
many other concepts, all in one.
Some of Dali's symbols are pathetic re-writes of Freudian theory. Images
of boys afraid of being castrated isn't Dali's best work. Other symbols
defy interpretation. Elephants with incredibly thin legs that stretc out
for miles? What the hell is THAT? I don't know, but it gives me a neat
feeling.
> This is why Dali's later work is not consider
> surrealist, but mystical. It is not personal, but Dali hiding behind the
> facade of "showmanship."
I think Dali's religious work -- is that what you mean by later works? --
shows how he was playing with a new set of symbols. Maybe he got tired of
Freud, and wanted to play with Christ symbols, for a while. The
interaction between personal symbols and cultural symbols is always
fascinating. Jesus has a social identity, but he can also have a private
one. One man's holy savior is another man's evil con artist, and another
man's mentally deficient child who thinks he is the son of God. Each
interpretation has value, symbollically speaking.
I'll shut up now.
>Of course this could have also been a method for Breton to uncover who was
>the homosexual of the group, but i'd doubt that.
I doubt it too, but only because Breton was so squeamish about sexuality in
general (and homosexuality in particular) that I am certain he would much
much rather not know anything about anyone's sexuality. The discussions
about sexuality are really rather amusing...
DMH
>
(I haven't seen the recorded texts of these gatherings. Did someone
publish them on or offline?)
What you're saying in the above doesn't quite jive -- Breton was the one
who suggested these evenings talking about sex. He really wanted to know
what other people found exciting about bumping uglies. I think we call
all agree he was a prude. Were evenings of sex chat for Breton much like
looking out a car window to see the horrible traffic accident you're
speeding by?
Breton's attitudes towards sex are quite bizarre. He seemed to worship
women, wanted to hear about other people's sex lives, but at the same time
was a prude. When fellow surrealists suggested going to a brothel for
some kicks, Breton was furious and horrified.
A number of Breton's female companions complained that he always expected
them to be symbolic, and not real. His women were just that, *his* women,
his muses, his possessions. His women were characters in the play that
was his life. When they failed to live up to his dreams, he ditched them,
and found new women to play with.
So why would he want to hear about the sex lives of others? And does this
desire to peek into other people's bedrooms have anything to do with
surrealism? Maybe his voyeurism was all about figuring out if his own
sexual desires and habits were normal. Then again, Breton was a big fan
of Freud. It could be he was just following in Freud's footsteps.
"If everything has to do with sex, then let's talk about sex."
In 1928 as part of a series of discussions about sex with the
[Surrealist] group, [Pierre] Unik admitted that he always asked a woman
what sort of sex she preferred. 'I think that's absolutely colossal,
really phenomenal' Breton blustered. 'Talk about complications.'
When Unik asked why he was so surprised, Breton replied, 'Because her
preferences have nothing to do with it.'