If representational imagery relies on imitation of nature, it seems rather clear to me that what does not imitate nature is not representational of it. I suppose we could say that representation includes much more than can be verified by nature and some will say that all our efforts to distinguish between nature as it is and how we identify it are cultural and therefore variable. Some even argue that nature is what we subjectively say it is. So, I suppose we can redefine representation any way we choose. One way is to combine normally separate natural phenomena, like flying and human and say the result, a flying human, is a potential natural fact, assuming we are willing to suspend the other facts that the human body is too heavy and wrongly articulated to be held aloft by any sort of wing or anatomic protrusion, excepting some mechanical device. Personally, I find this sort of abuse of representation of nature to be too vague, too open-ended, too begging for further distinction. For instance, we could say "fantastic representation" and that would allow for all sorts of variants -- contradictions or paradoxes -- vis-a-vis nature.
As for theory, I was being a bit sardonic in situating artists as commonly untrained or unwilling to engage in theoretical discourse at the level usually practiced by professional scholars, theorists, philosophers, intellectual historians, and the like. Visual Artists tend to be those who think and work laterally, by association and impulse, by analogy and visual metaphors. How can they compete as equals with lifelong scholars who are deeply learned in some theoretical literature? And what scholar would dare to join me in my studio? Artists tend to be pragmatic, taking bits and scraps of wisdom where they find it. They are eclectic to an extreme in that respect. Whatever aids their motivations, whatever entices the muse, is fit. There are some artists, of course, who work out schemes, theories, plans, usually self-justifying rather than truly inquisitive or exploratory, and refine them to the point of dogma. I say they are fools. There is no formula for art. Creativity has no goal except opportunity, led, as I said yesterday, by allure. When a theory -- a specific route to reach a goal --is implemented in visual art, the result is a formulaic enactment of the theory. We find this in all redundant art. It is art death. I happen to love reading theoretical discourse (discourse means scattering about) and try to follow the authors' ideas. I can't implement their ideas in my work but I suppose they provide some impetus, just enough justification to urge me on, as a whispering interior dialogue. But once the work begins, once the activity starts, theory is silenced and the reckless, sniffing, barking, peeing, tail-wagging dog of creativity is on the loose. You can't be a good theorist -- at the top level -- if you're an artist because an artist is forever at the edge of opportunity, forever willing to contradict, destroy, go in another direction, a free spirit willing to abandon any faith for the allure, the gut surprise, the why-not. Today one thing led to another and, taking a rest from painting, I am re-reading Martin Jay's Downcast Eyes. What a marvelous examination of vision, what a sound critique of French theory, what a boon to artists! This stuff is my junk food. wc ----- Original Message ---- From: "[email protected]" <[email protected]> To: [email protected] Sent: Thu, January 20, 2011 12:07:58 PM Subject: Re: representation and its sgnification Angels fly. St George fought a dragon. I think that the position that rrepresentational art doesn't include anything that doesn't imitate nature is perhaps somehat narrower than it needs to be. One might say that this inquiry" points to the tensions and contradictions which at once sustain the dynamic of artistic creation and aesthetic efficiency and prevent it from ever fusing in one and the same community of sense. ." I wish you would expand your standard description of representational art. It is also interesting that you say theory comes first and then feel that those with clear theories are didactic bores, among other flaws. Kate Sullivan -----Original Message----- From: William Conger <[email protected]> To: [email protected] Sent: Wed, Jan 19, 2011 11:05 am Subject: Re: representation and its sgnification What am I wrong on? I suppose I need to understand better your definition of representational art. Dragons, people flying...? My own quite standard definition is that representational art imitates nature and I plead "the Courbet" and say show me a flying person or dragon and I'll say it's nature and thus fit for representational art. The so-called fine arts don't exist anymore except as a historical classification. The other stuff you say makes little sense except as a personal expression of frustration about....what? OK, let's do the "archaeology of aesthetics. For me that will be a bleak undertaking, but I'm addicted to ideas and intellectual treasure hunts. My own view re Ranchire's vain hope that an archaeology of aesthetics can tell us what art can be and do today is that no-one can predict what art will be because that would amount to a prescription -- or, worse, a proscription -- and art cannot be foretold, cannot be made by rule, cannot be made on demand, like a fried egg. But that highlights the eternal struggle between theory and practice. Which comes first? Naturally, the word people, the theorists, like to think that their words define what is possible as art and lots of artists, not by any means the majority, like to think that their practices define art, at least in the "homeless" state, until the word-folks come along to tidy things up and hang the curtains. Personally, I tend to think that theory does come first, that art requires a context but I also think that context is loosely and quite imperfectly identified by artists' work. Thankfully, the good artists are not very thorough about theory; they get it all mixed up with their poor reasoning habits and solipsistic, narrow and misunderstood readings. Whenever you find an artist with a clear, coherent theory, you have found a bad artist, a practitioner of formula, an insister on intentionality, a didactic bore, a fool. Far better to let the word people have their perch, let them write their incomprehensible jargon, weave their golden fleece, wave mirrors before art, and do whatever mischief they can do to keep the lights on and the attention focussed on artworks that illustrate their theories. Artists like to think they alone really think, think hard, reason well, attain insights and all the rest of the stuff that supposedly happens when smart people get down to business. But what makes artists different from their theory-drunk pals with is their own intoxication with whatever we can mean by "allure". When allure beckons, so much the worse for theory. No better example of that can be found than in Delacroix's Journal where he relates his desperately struggling with his painting, not knowing what or how to do the next thing, but in this state of turmoil, gazing from his window, he is struck by the sight of a beautiful girl walking by. He immediately leaves the studio to make her acquaintance. There it is, "allure" the one irresistible temptation of the artist. When you are creating you are led by allure. It beckons. It trumps all. Baudelaire said as much in his "In Praise of Cosmetics". Don't laugh. Read that for some profound theory. wc ----- Original Message ----
