Earliest recollections of being an artist
Kay again
about the experiences of the rest of you here, if you are inclined to share.
I'll share my own recollections that I've come to believe are what would
indicate my earliest *artistic* tendencies. Some believe that artistry is a
*gift* one is born with and others believe it is a *learned* experience.
That's another thread:-)
Recollection #1:
Living in Chicago, across the street from a park. Going to the playground
every day in the summer. Swinging, for hours on end. Swinging, swinging,
swinging - sometimes, for diversity, swinging on my stomach. Sometimes
jumping off the swing while in the midst of an upswing. Time to go home
before it gets dark. Swinging some more and not wanting to quit swinging.
Even kids have deep thoughts and I'd start imagining that the ground, which
had wood chips, was covered with worms (yuck!) and that I would have to
swing forever because if I got off the swing I would have to walk through
the worms... Vivid pictorial memory of my childish mind turning the ground
into worms (sometimes bugs for diversity).
Recollection #2:
Rainy day. No cartoons. Mom at work. Sister elsewhere, so no one to
torture. Have a cold or flu or upset stomach. Daydreaming about comas
which I just learned about. What if I wasn't really here, in this City,
with this family? What if I actually lived on MARS and I had a Martian
family waiting for me to come out of my coma? (Maybe this fantasy influenced
by Wizard of OZ...)
Recollection #3:
I get a camera as a gift. I am really, really young, too young to have a
camera because it costs so much to develop and buy film. I have a small
amount of film and a small amount of money to get it developed. I take
pictures upon pictures of cracks in the sidewalk. My family wants to know
why don't I take pictures of the house? My friends? A tree? I always said
how "pretty the cracks in the sidewalk were... They didn't think old cracks
in the sidewalk were pretty. I realize, now, that I was simply attracted to
the linear formations which I must have perceived as *art* without knowing
much about art at all.
Recollection #4:
Drawing! This must be a universal experience. The urge to draw. Like now,
art wasn't rewarded much. I drew during math. I drew during English. I
drew during history. I made my own cartoon books. I drew on the blackboard
which I was seated next to. The teacher constantly told me to quit drawing.
I simply was not able to, despite the threat of being "in trouble"...
Parents called into the principals office. They had to take off work (not
too happy about it). Smart child, but she won't quit drawing. Won't follow
orders... They finally moved my seat away from the blackboard!
Examples #1 & #2 always made me feel *different, maybe *weird! Surely
normal children don't have these fantasies... Later, as an adult, I found
out it wasn't necessarily *weirdness but was called *imagination!
To summarize: Imagination, visual perception and the urge to draw or form
something, to me, are my earliest recollections of the *different* qualities
one must require to be compelled to make art.
Anyone else?
Kay
tin...@home.com
I am in my cradle, all I can see is light
(sunlight ray), I try to reach towards it my hand
won't go where my eyes point - my hand moves
through the coloured light - I can't grab it. I
feel warmth somewhere it's expanding - I know the
pain will come (diaper rash) - I am being moved -
sudden rush of cool air where the warmth was - the
cool air stops - (being diapered) - a warm liquid
in my mouth, which moves with out my command.
I am being held and my back is being patted (being
burped) I can see her skin next to my face, it was
glowing, I could feel her heart beating, I could
feel the delicacy of her bones, I could feel her
body as my other.
Sunlight falling on the floor - fascinating - I am
standing on a chair at the sink - the silvery
water is calmly flowing out of the tap down the
drain of the sink - I spend hours moving my
fingers through the water it feels nice, it's like
sunlight.
The silver finish of the french horn glowed in the
morning light, as my grandfather played his sunday
morning music. Some times he would bring out brass
horns and they were amazing just to look at them -
I run my fingers over the piano keys - they are
smooth like running my fingers under the water
tap, they have spaces between the keys that cause
my fingers to bump up and down.
The stuffed birds - the colours are incredible -
they glow and change before your very eyes - I run
my fingers over the feathers - so soft and fine.
Hundreds of drawings in the old music books - I
spend hours looking at them. My brothers begin to
teach me how to draw. They teach me how to build
model aeroplanes. I go down to my fathers
work-shop - legs and arms of antique chairs and
tables hang from the ceiling - piled in the corner
- eventually my self tutored carving of plaques
surpassed his tutored carving eventually my
drawing surpassed his, to his amazement.
I always painted the religious scenes at school. I
was a poor student but my drawing got me out of
classes. One of my older brothers began taking
painting lessons from me. I paint a head study in
oil of a young female from my imagination - a
teenage friend falls in love with it. I discover
the pygmalion power of art.
I finally convince my father that art did not end
in 1850, and he begins to move in a more abstract
direction. He dies, but artistically he reached
the 20th century.
I study commercial art by correspondence - I work
for free in a commercial art studio and receive
instruction in return - I also learn that I can't
bend to the inartistic wishes of clients - I
decide that I will never be told what to do when
it comes to my designs, so art is allocated to
whatever spare time I have.
the end
have fun: from: keith/tinman/pam
PS: I have always worked alone, that may not have
been my best move, but I was surrounded by
traditionalists.
___________tinman end___________
Erik A. Mattila
Well, that sounds like fun;
I don't remember some of these, but Mom told me all about it when I finally
grew a mind.
I have the old Skira Van Gogh book that was around in my infancy. On the
flyleaves are my drawings, age 3 or 4. Not much, I remember one was a cannon
(I was born in 1943, so wwII was very much a topic in my early years). Or
maybe the cannon responded to my learing to be a boy, who knows. What is
remarkable is that on every blank page, I drew an outline about an inch in from
the edges -- just like I was taught to do in art school.
I was given a 'little boy doll' in a sailor suit. What I did is somehow learn
to tie a hangman's noose with a rope, which I placed around the neck of the
doll and drug it around the house, singing "Charles Adams, Charles Adams,
Charles Adams" as I went along. (Little pictures have big ears). Mom says that
I was a strong baby, and I would crush all my toys. That is why, I suppose, my
earliest memory of toys was the 2x4s in the basement I used to make a model
ship.
My Dad didn't like me, plain and simple. Years later he went through
psychoanalysis and learned that he projected his feelings towards his father on
me -- a transference kind of thing. He was born in Astoria, Oregon, his folks
Finns who were building fish canneries. When he was very young, his father
deserted and returned to Finland. It was all pushed off on me. (man, am I a
victim here, or what?). At any rate, I learned at a very early age that the
one thing I could do to get positive attention was draw pictures. Personally,
I think the idea of being born with a 'gift' is poo poo.
So I always excelled with making pictures, and it always worked to compensate
for a diminished ego. My life, more or less, has been 'on a roll' in this
way. In the second grade I did a water color that was selected by an unknown
visitor to the classroom to be in a national 'children's art' exhibition. This
was before the days of 'kids rights' (I printed a book in '72' while working in
a print shop called "The Children's Liberation Coloring Book.) So I never got
the painting back. But I remember it. It was a seascape sunset, washes of
reds, oranges, reflected in choppy waters. A black penninsula jutted out from
the left, and around the horn a black ship sailed.
I got my first set of oils when I was about eight or nine, and my first oil
painting was a nekked woman draped in a Alizarin Crimison robe. Real kinky for
a nine year old. But I was visiting my Dad in Berkeley for the summer, and
when I got bored I got to his bookshelf and for some crazy reason selected a
book called "The Shanghai Gesture" which was a play about Chinese prostitutes.
The Madame's name was "Mother God Damm." So I guess I got (or was) sexually
obsessed. I remember this painting also. It was lousy, yet erotic.
That same summer Dad had brought home a large chunk of balsa from a beached
life raft he had found. The big thing that year was Thor Hyerdahl's "Kon Tiki"
expedition, and I commenced to make a very nice model of Kon Tiki and carve
some Easter Island megaliths from the balsa. I had another preminition with
this. The megalith carving I painted black (with my oil paint kit) and years
later learned the the French Aesthetic demanded that West African carvings be
black, causing the Africans to treat the ebony, which in naturally dark brown,
with black shoe polish. Am I clairvoyant, or what?
I also had a hunk of modeling clay. Instead of making great art, I used this
to make tiny human figures which I would subject to torture (many of the
torture devices being made from the balsa wood).
Erik Mattila
Kay again
Kay
Maybe an anthology blossoming here?
tin...@home.com wrote in message <375AD215...@home.com>...
:________tinman start______
Kay
Erik A. Mattila wrote in message
:Personally, I think the idea of being born with a 'gift' is poo poo.
(Watch the strong language, Erik!)
I said, in my other post, that this was another topic entirely and I'd like
to continue with it on a different thread. I can see by your statement that
we disagree. (Good!) I have a friend with whom I've been debating this
issue since 1989. We see one another a couple of times a year and argue
about this topic furiously each and every time, without ommission (we remain
very good friends.) He believes that art can be "learned" by anyone. I
believe it is a *gift* (or curse) one is born with. Notice in the earliest
recognition of artistry thread that my own experiences led me to *have* to
make art, despite disciplinary consequences. I was, other than that, a
pretty well-behaved kid (except toward my sister, but that doesn't count,
she was younger!)
To present my case: I believe that each and every person has an individual
talent. They may never recognize it and it may lay dormant due to
malnutrition by non-recognition. For example, how come some people can sing
beautifully? Not because they love to sing because my whole family loves to
sing, much to the dismay of anyone within earshot... Are there scientific
studies indicating that these *good* singers have deviated vocal chords? I
doubt it. Maybe a gift is *leadership*.. Maybe excellent organizational
skills...
My sister-in-law and I had this discussion, about a gift and she truly
believed everyone had an individual gift because she saw a *gift* in all the
people around her. She couldn't find a gift within herself. She told me
"All I'm good at is talking. I can talk all day long and never get tired."
(True:-)
This happened about 15 years ago. She called me (to talk!) not long after
and had volunteered to read books into recordings for the blind! (Before all
the audio-books came in vogue). So, storytelling, has been regarded as a
gift before we can even know. What was Homer? Not a writer, certainly. I
had an acquaintance who used to call me every day and we (she) would talk on
the phone for over an hour. She would talk about when they owned a motel in
Lordsburg, New Mexico, she would talk about when she was a waitress, she
would talk about her brother cheating on her sister-in-law. These things
bore me to tears. BUT, she held my interest with these boring subjects
because she presented them with her *gift* which held me enthralled as if
she were telling me the secrets of the universe!
Point to Kay
Counterpoint from ?
Kay
"Do you Know what he needs? Two or three shock treatments,"
Mary George said. "Get that artist business right out of his head once and
for all."
(from "An Enduring Chill" by Flannery O'Connor)
:
Erik A. Mattila
that some people are smarter, stronger, more symetrical, than others, so....
On the other hand there's a period in early childhood development when the
brain gets wrinkled, and you wear these wrinkles all your life. I suppose the
metaphor is 'wiring.' That's one of the tragedies of malnutrition at this
age--the child comes out of it with a pretty smooth brain that isn't overly
active for the rest of her/his life.
I do believe that visual thinking is different than verbal thinking, and I can
imagine that individuals who do visualize a lot have some physiological history
that either causes or strengthens this. But I agree with Lauri, I don't think
we come into this world as a blank slate (tabula rasa). Now DNA research is
pointing to other ideas, which we might want to call instinct.
But really, I don't know. I suppose the important question is why one would
decide one way or another. I mean, what's important about believing that it is
a 'gift' or that an artist is some sort of special person. It just inflates
you up a bit (and maybe we all need that from time to time) and then you go
back to the here and now and nothing's changed.
It's all very social, I think. It may well be that a human type is the
'visual' (I always scored best on those tests where you had to match shapes).
Maybe its glandular. For myself, I prefer the neurotic explanation. I make
art as a nervous reaction to my environment. Some people just scream, some
hyperventalate, but me, I just whip out my pencil and scribble."Hold that
pose!" I said to the attacking lion.
Erik
Dan Fox
> Erik A. Mattila wrote in message
> :Personally, I think the idea of being born with a 'gift' is poo poo.
>
> (Watch the strong language, Erik!)
>
> I said, in my other post, that this was another topic entirely and I'd
> like to continue with it on a different thread. I can see by your
> statement that we disagree. (Good!)
<snip>
> Point to Kay
> Counterpoint from ?
Well, my experience is anecdotal. In all my years (he gestures with his
cane), I've seen only a handful of really great students. They all have
come out of the blue, kicking ass, making fantastic stuff from the
beginning. One kid in particular, 19 years old, only minimal formal
training (but read all the art books and bios), had already sweated
through his impressionist period and his cubist period, and was making
amazing abstract art. I couldn't teach him, just encourage him and
advise him on the market.
Yeah, it's a gift. Less gifted people can learn to make good art, but
it's not the same. I know that Louise Bougerois (sp) agrees with me,
but don't know about others. And my view is less than scientific.
> Kay
--
Dan
'The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.' - Blake
'Ich bin ein Artsy Fartzy.' - Dan
Kay
Erik A. Mattila wrote in message <375BA159...@tomatoweb.com>...
:To be absolutely honest, I couldn't say one way or another. It's pretty
obvous
:that some people are smarter, stronger, more symetrical, than others,
so....
:
:On the other hand there's a period in early childhood development when the
:brain gets wrinkled, and you wear these wrinkles all your life. I suppose
the
:metaphor is 'wiring.' That's one of the tragedies of malnutrition at this
:age--the child comes out of it with a pretty smooth brain that isn't overly
:active for the rest of her/his life.
:
:I do believe that visual thinking is different than verbal thinking, and I
can
:imagine that individuals who do visualize a lot have some physiological
history
:that either causes or strengthens this. But I agree with Lauri, I don't
think
:we come into this world as a blank slate (tabula rasa). Now DNA research
is
:pointing to other ideas, which we might want to call instinct.
I read a wonderful essay on this subject, Erik. The premise was that
*instinct is a natural function in humans such as pain, sensory perception,
etc., but that through religion and civilization, we have been taught to
*repress* this human function. When I watched my cat giving birth (before I
got her fixed) I was amazed just how she knew exactly what to do - instinct.
:
:But really, I don't know. I suppose the important question is why one
would
:decide one way or another. I mean, what's important about believing that
it is
:a 'gift' or that an artist is some sort of special person. It just
inflates
:you up a bit (and maybe we all need that from time to time) and then you go
:back to the here and now and nothing's changed.
Well, if it is something you are born with, then certainly, when you are a
child, in my own experience, instead of something to puff you up, it may
serve to explain the *oddity* of the child.
:It's all very social, I think. It may well be that a human type is the
:'visual' (I always scored best on those tests where you had to match
shapes).
:Maybe its glandular. For myself, I prefer the neurotic explanation. I
make
:art as a nervous reaction to my environment. Some people just scream, some
:hyperventalate, but me, I just whip out my pencil and scribble."Hold that
:pose!" I said to the attacking lion.
:
:Erik
Plenty of neurotic people. Doesn't mean that they can be artists.
Kay
Dan Fox wrote in message <19990607135315.531$e...@newsreader.com>...
:"Kay" <scarl...@theriver.com> wrote:
:> Erik A. Mattila wrote in message
:> :Personally, I think the idea of being born with a 'gift' is poo poo.
:>
:> (Watch the strong language, Erik!)
:>
:> I said, in my other post, that this was another topic entirely and I'd
:> like to continue with it on a different thread. I can see by your
:> statement that we disagree. (Good!)
:
:<snip>
:
:> Point to Kay
:> Counterpoint from ?
:
:Well, my experience is anecdotal. In all my years (he gestures with his
:cane), I've seen only a handful of really great students. They all have
:come out of the blue, kicking ass, making fantastic stuff from the
:beginning. One kid in particular, 19 years old, only minimal formal
:training (but read all the art books and bios), had already sweated
:through his impressionist period and his cubist period, and was making
:amazing abstract art. I couldn't teach him, just encourage him and
:advise him on the market.
:
:Yeah, it's a gift. Less gifted people can learn to make good art, but
:it's not the same. I know that Louise Bougerois (sp) agrees with me,
:but don't know about others. And my view is less than scientific.
I'm not aware of any scientific studies proving or even attempting to prove
that art is a *learned* experience, but I was reading about some women
artists (which included an interview with Louise b.) and Grace Hartigan
stated that she never had any interest in art, blah, blah, blah... It all
kind of came to her - find of fell into her lap, and she became an artist
because it was, sort of, *there... (Made me not like her, no struggle.)
Kay
(Dan, I accidently deleted your post in which you stated that you lost some
posts! There was a wonderful essay with responses from Lauri on "Visual
Thinking", a post from me with responses on "Earliest Recollections of being
and Artist" a plea from me to go to www.workingartist.com and advise me of
the viability of the artist business software there an address (which I
lost) from Erik of new 3-d work (check it out), discussion on incandescent
and irridescent oil & acrylic paint and lots, lots more!
:Dan
Kay
L.Tunkkanen
I grew up in a family of engineers
(Mom and Dad, my 9 yrs older brother and his wife,
a couple of uncles).
Tech was the only alternative, but my math was not
good enough. The furthest away from engineering
I could imange was architechture, but I failed
in math even there.
To compensate poor math grades, I studied drawing
in evening classes. All school years I hade good
grades in drawing, but I drew very little in frretime.
On the other hand, it was somehow self-evident that
I painted all stage decors atfor school theatre.
One summer I got hte first felt-tip pen, with wide
soft tips of different size, and brown ink that
'bleeded' almost immediately. That summer I drew alot.
Then I applied to the Highscool of Arts and Crafts in
Helsinki to become an art teacher. I had no problem
in getting in. During the two week test course
I plagiated my old school-time works.
During the first term I realized that even if I could
do some nice works, I was not creative enough to
work as an artist. The Highschool thinked even more so,
I was kicked out at Xmas time.
I turned to social philosophy, but continued to draw
in the university drawing classes one or two years more.
Then I drifted laterally, psychology to support philosophy,
social sciencies and statistics and physiology to support psychology.
After all that I never graduated, but started to work in
marketing research for 20 years and forgot all about art.
That led to computer business and moving to countryside
in a small town of Salo (25000 people, Nokia factories).
In an new environment I needed new friends that were not
workmates. Salo is one company site. I found that there
were evening classes in art, comfortably on my way to my lonely home.
I started drawing and modelling. The year was -92 or so.
I got hooked in modelling. A couple of years later I realized,
that I have to arrange something for my family on my 60th
anniversary. I decided to keep an art exhibition.
It was 94-95 I thus decided I'll be an artist.
The anniversary was -96, and I really decided that when
I'm 65 and retired I will be a full-time artist.
Studying towards it.
- lauri
--
//www.netti.fi/~laurleva/
The fact that I abuse my office address does not
imply that my employer agrees with or is aware of
my opinions expressed here
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Share what you know. Learn what you don't.
Kay
L.Tunkkanen wrote ...
:
:During the first term I realized that even if I could
:do some nice works, I was not creative enough to
:work as an artist. The Highschool thinked even more so,
:I was kicked out at Xmas time.
:
That's so sad. The *establishment* is part of what the great artists whom I
admire always rebell against. It is sad that they have the power to
*create* an artist or to *destroy* one too!
::The anniversary was -96, and I really decided that when
:I'm 65 and retired I will be a full-time artist.
:Studying towards it.
:
:- lauri
Best of luck to your new studies and the new stage of your life!
Kay
"Do you know what he needs? Two or three shock treatments,"
L.Tunkkanen
"Kay" <scarl...@theriver.com> wrote:
>
> L.Tunkkanen wrote ...
>
> :
> :During the first term I realized that even if I could
> :do some nice works, I was not creative enough to
> :work as an artist. The Highschool thinked even more so,
> :I was kicked out at Xmas time.
> :
> That's so sad. The *establishment* is part of what the great artists
whom I
> admire always rebell against. It is sad that they have the power to
> *create* an artist or to *destroy* one too!
About fifteen-twenty years later I was in movies "Farenheit 451". When
walking out, a white haired man next to me said"you look like a book
person, too". I replied something that I'm not smart enough to learn
them by heart. Then he introduced himnself " I'm Kaj Frank (that time
the principal of the above mentioned school), would you like to
chat over a cup of cofee?" At the café I told him, that I once
applied to his school but luckily was rejected.
Frank said "If you have once made a good piece,
it proves you have the talent. If you do not do
it all the time, it proves you have not learned
to WORK with art."
After thinking this another twenty years, I started my art studies.
Why should I think it was wasted time?.
* * *
I seem to get an allergic reaction when people feel pity for me.
> "Do you know what he needs? Two or three shock treatments,"
Yes it has helped. I am still as crazy but on a deeper level.
- lauri
journeyperson of sculpture
Kay
Marilyn Welch wrote in message ...
:
:I think that I was born with a love for colour.
:Early memories of being deprived of colour in a
:
(snipping words of beauty)
:
:Thanks for giving me the chance to articulate this,
:for the very first time.
:
:Marilyn
:
:wq...@victoria.tc.ca
:Victoria BC Canada
:
Very beautiful and moving... It also made me think of color in my own life
which I hadn't thought about. Yes, growing up in urban Chicago, especially
in the winter had a grey effect and an absence of color. In the summer, we
had our green small lawns and trees. I remember that my stepfather would
get postcards from his family in Poland. They were never in color. We knew
the people there were very, very poor. I felt sorry for his family in
Poland because my childish mind thought that they lived in black and white
and grey, like the postcards, with no color. I was glad I didn't have to
live there. I remember picking out my own clothes as a child, as well. I
would choose a pair of green shorts with an orange top and red tennis shoes
and yellow socks, maybe adding a purple headband. My mother would have a
fit with how I dressed myself, but, to me, the more colors I had the
prettier I felt. When I'm an old lady, I think I'll have some blue hair and
green eyeshadow and red, red lipstick.
Kay
:
:>
:>
:>
:>
:>
:
Erik A. Mattila
the Danikil basin in Ethiopia (I think it's Eritrea now). It is a great salt
lake, actually. It's where the North African Camal caravans came for thousand
of years (the salt caravans). The people who lived on the salt flat were
entirely dependent on the trade from these caravans (food, cloth, goods etc.).
Their world was an expanse of glaring white, and they wer4 as black as a human
being could be. On the distant horizon were hazy brown mountains -- very tiny
due to the distances.
It fascinated me. I wondered what kind of visual vocabulary these people had
developed over the thousands of years living there. I somehow thing it would
be very abstract and metaphysical.
Erik
Quo Vadis
<scarl...@theriver.com> writes
>To summarize: Imagination, visual perception and the urge to draw or form
>something, to me, are my earliest recollections of the *different* qualities
>one must require to be compelled to make art.
>
>Anyone else?
>
>Kay
I don't have many specific childhood memories other than art was my way
of escaping reality and I lived my life through it ... maybe that is how
I emerged reasonably well balanced (many will argue this) but I do
believe it gave me the focus to live through hell. Surprisingly enough
my childhood art was not the sort of aggressive, disturbed art you would
expect but was usually about *love*, in a broad sense. One of the
strongest pieces I ever did was two lovers French kissing - a 36 x 20
inch screen print - the image appropriated from a teenage magazine. It
was kind of *risqué* in 1973 by a girl of thirteen, at a school where
drawing a vase of flowers was the norm ... mind you I was never a
*normal* sort of girl ! My parents would not allow me to go to art
school even though I had a place at a top north British art school at 16
... instead they made me do History, Economics and English. Didn't get
the grades for university and ended up as a waitress.
Parents take note !
Now: my first artistic tantrum ? After working on a wax sculpture for an
art exam - a sort of Giacometti figure which I spent weeks dripping
coloured wax over - the night before the deadline I hurled it across the
kitchen and it smashed into a thousand pieces. Still got good grades
though !
Any other first artistic tantrums ???
Cheers.
Alison
ali...@raimes.demon.co.uk
http://www.raimes.demon.co.uk
Quo Vadis
Marilyn Welch <wq...@victoria.tc.ca> writes
>When I finally did make it to the candy store for
>the first time on my own, I ordered one candy from
>each bin, and took the bag saying thank you. If I
>had gone with my cousins as I should have, I'd have
>learned more about money.
>
>Thanks for giving me the chance to articulate this,
>for the very first time.
>
>Marilyn
Marilyn: I am glad your need for colour overcame the lure of money. I
think you articulate a very basic human need - that is for stimulation
through colour. Its a very specific one, and as you have shown, a very
seductive issue. Colour remains for me the most important thing in art -
if the colours do not affect me then the art work rarely has any
aesthetic value to me - even though it may have a philosophical value.
Just a thought !
Cheers.
Alison A Raimes
ali...@raimes.demon.co.uk
http://www.raimes.demon.co.uk
L.Tunkkanen
My sensitivity is limited to lines and shape. I can recall
only 1-2 painings where I have specially appreciated the color.
It is like with music. I am limited to a narrow range,
around Bach, Bartok and Beatles. I was waiting ( 30 yrs ago)
that the kids grow to Pop age, so they can
update my education. The little devils,
had a wonderful primary school teacher, who tayght them
to play Mozart.
- lauri
lauri....@nokia.com
Kay
Quo Vadis wrote in message <7iRANNAu...@raimes.demon.co.uk>...
:In article <dcp63.3040$D_5....@news2.giganews.com>, Kay again
:<scarl...@theriver.com> writes
:
:>To summarize: Imagination, visual perception and the urge to draw or form
:>something, to me, are my earliest recollections of the *different*
qualities
:>one must require to be compelled to make art.
:>
:>Anyone else?
:>
:>Kay
:
:I don't have many specific childhood memories other than art was my way
:of escaping reality and I lived my life through it ... maybe that is how
:I emerged reasonably well balanced (many will argue this) but I do
:believe it gave me the focus to live through hell. Surprisingly enough
:my childhood art was not the sort of aggressive, disturbed art you would
:expect but was usually about *love*, in a broad sense. One of the
:strongest pieces I ever did was two lovers French kissing - a 36 x 20
:inch screen print - the image appropriated from a teenage magazine. It
:was kind of *risqué* in 1973 by a girl of thirteen, at a school where
:drawing a vase of flowers was the norm ... mind you I was never a
:*normal* sort of girl ! My parents would not allow me to go to art
:school even though I had a place at a top north British art school at 16
:... instead they made me do History, Economics and English. Didn't get
:the grades for university and ended up as a waitress.
:
:Parents take note !
Yes! This last part made me laugh. My mom died a decade ago, but when I
went to Art School, she had a fit... Wanted to know why I couldn't be a
teacher or nurse or something sensible. Once she started crying real tears
(rare for her) because she said she was afraid I'd move to Grenich (sp?)
Village in NYC and become a "beatnik"... This was in the early 70s when
there were "hippies" all over the place, she was worried about me becoming a
"beatnik"...
She DID pay a fortune in tuition for the Chicago Art Institute.
Unfortunately, we had a long Summer that year and the beach was right out
the back door. I flunked out very, very soon, having attended less than a
full week of (paid for) classes... Had a great tan, though!
I wan't a "normal" sort of girl either. I didn't want marriage and I didn't
want any boyfriends trying to tell me what to do. Loved the hunt, though!
Kay
(snip)
:Cheers.
:Alison
: ali...@raimes.demon.co.uk
: http://www.raimes.demon.co.uk
Quo Vadis
<emat...@tomatoweb.com> writes
>It fascinated me. I wondered what kind of visual vocabulary these people had
>developed over the thousands of years living there. I somehow thing it would
>be very abstract and metaphysical.
>
>Erik
Erik: you remind me of Humboldt (_Kosmos_1845). Always on the look out
for clues as to why world cultures became so incompatibly fragmented -
always trying to solve puzzles. I think the question of how visual
vocabulary is defined deserves as much attention as semiotics, don't
you? I wonder if Humboldt had directed his energy into a study of visual
language instead of linguistics if he would have found that common
origin of all cultures he so desperately sought.
Cheers !
Alison
ali...@raimes.demon.co.uk
http://www.raimes.demon.co.uk
Erik A. Mattila
Quo Vadis wrote:
I'm just not following why 'semiotics' as such needs to be held off against
'visual vocabulary' (to some extent Lauri is saying the same thing). Semiotics
is merely a methodology, in the long run. So it gives you some tools with which
to identify and organize the parts that you encounter when confronting questions
about how vision and meaning work. Theoretically, at least, you could use other
medhodologies and arrive at the same of similar conclusions.
But I don't think there is a consensus here (certainly not in RAF) that there is
a 'visual vocabulary' or a 'visual language.' Is there? What do we have?
First, 'visual experience..' I think everyone agrees to this. "We see,
therefore we is" (meaning no disparagement to the visually impaired). Defining
'the visual experience' then, (whatever that definition may be) there are all
sorts of implications and assumptions -- each of which needs to be tested and
measured for validity.
Concepts exist that say vision is immediate and operates on a more primary
cognitive level than does natural language. I personally don't think tihs is
true, but how are we every going to prove this one way or another? Thus we look
for some sort of methodology with which to organize the inquiry. For this
specific question, we have semiotics, cognitive science, psychology, and what
else (it would be interesting to make a shopping list of methodologies available
for this topic).
There may also be agreement (consensus) that at any given moment, we do not
expierence everything within a visual field. We select, filter, ignore etc. The
proof of this is, I think, is that if this were not the case, there would be
nothing about 'seeing' left for an artist to discover. Much of artistic
discovery is, in fact, a matter of better looking -- or looking that is organized
around a different premise than looking without a 'looking' critique. In this
sense in situ drawing, for example, becomes a methodology and indeed a critical
practice. "No, the line of the teacup's handle doesn't really look like that!"
The act of drawing, in this sense, becomes a critique of seeing.
And so I ramble on... I'm just saying that the 'semiology of vision' doesn't
really make 'seeing' lange or parole.
Erik