Notes On Being a Painter (Response to Dave Hahn’s On Being a Musician)

I recently read my friend Dave Hahn's thoughts On Being a Musician (www.myspace.com/dubwisdom). It was a great piece and has been kicking around in my head the last few days. I'll quote the part that really struck me and got me started thinking, "It's sad that people would still judge the success of their art based on whether or not its providing them with a paycheck. It's understandable that in this world that we would tend to identify ourselves with whatever it is we do to make money."

Without delving too far into the historic or psychological roots of this phenomenon I would simply and generally state that our sense of self and identity is formed in large part by what it is we spend the most time doing in our lives (for better or for worse). It's not "I think therefore, I am" it has become "I do, therefore I am." I work in law, I am a lawyer. I work in medicine, I am a doctor. I make music, I am a musician. I paint pictures, I am a painter. As you can see it's hardwired into our language and thus into the way we think and experience ourselves and our world.

Now consider the fact that as humans, we crave acknowledgement and approval of our activities. In the "democratic" and "capitalist" society we live in, money has become the primary source of approval and is seen as the most legitimate gauge of success. Money thus legitimates what we do and therefore who we are. "I make money therefore, I am." Take this a step further, flip it around, twirl it in the air, and you have the mantra of our day – "I consume, therefore I am." Since, in our society we spend the majority of our time working to make money to pay for the necessities of survival and for the comforts of consumption, "What I do to make money," becomes "Who I am." And of course none of this guarantees happiness or mental health or fulfillment or joy or wholeness.

OK, these are deep ideas and well beyond the scope of a little blog entry. How do they connect to being a painter? A musician? An artist?First, as humans we all crave recognition and acknowledgement – which is nothing more than to say we need some form of direct human contact or communication – intimacy. As artists and musicians our creative processes and creative endeavors are nothing more than complex ways of opening ourselves up to and engaging the people and the world around us. It is exciting and fulfilling when people take time to engage us by listening to our music, looking at our paintings, etc. It is a special and unique form of human intimacy. And as with any form of intimacy it can be joyful, painful, playful, scary, etc. – the whole rich variety of emotional experience. While intimacy is rewarding and reason enough for engaging in the creative process, making money with our art also provides a powerful feeling of social approval and a legitimization of our activities.

A few last thoughts, from a psychological or philosophical perspective our sense of self or identity is a complex process – one in which we as humans have come to have a more active and conscious role. The recognition that we play an active role as authors or creators of our own identity and sense of self has been a very powerful and important development over the last 100-200 years. It is now widely recognized that "self-narration" and "self-creation" is a fundamental characteristic of human nature and that maintaining the ability to self-narrate is a fundamental human right – a wonderful and positive development. It has also led to the popularized notion that we are all "creative" that we are all "artists." However, the idea that there are 7 billion "artists" in the world is a bit of an overwhelming thought for an artist – threatening meaninglessness. The problem is – if we are all artists, then the word "artist" is potentially meaningless, and my self-created identity as an artist is potentially meaningless. This is obviously a big complex issue for artists, particularly visual artists, and I will only remark briefly here. For many artists, the ability to say that one makes money or lives by their artwork becomes an even stronger anchor to which to tether one's sense of self in the face of a raging hurricane of meaninglessness.
Peace,
Gordon Fraser
www.gordonfraserfinearts.com
www.myspace.com/gordon_fraser

The Writing on the Walls – Of Love & Riots @ 58 Coles – Jersey City, NJ

There's a lot one could say about the current show at 58 Coles (www.myspace.com/58coles – Of Love & Riots put on by the Trust Your Struggle Collective www.trustyourstruggle.com. There's the art – a blend of mural painting, relief, found object, and graffiti – installed with the haste of an illicit tag by the artists this past week and accented with candles and a live dj for the opening. Then there are the political and social messages – oppression and the struggle for social justice. And of course there are the artists themselves – Borish, Cece, Erin "Charm" Yoshioka, Miguel "Bounce" Perez, Robert Trujillo, Shaun Turner, Scott La Rockwell, DJ Jonny Paycheck, DJ King Tres – and their collective movement – Trust Your Struggle – based out of the San Fransisco Bay area and New York City.

It's safe to say we all know what love is – deep human empathy and connection. While a riot is usually understood to be a violent public disturbance, violent disorder or confusion, riot also refers to a brilliant display, as in "a riot of colors;" to grow wild in abundance; and, something very funny. The Trust Your Struggle collective puts together a floor to ceiling display of love and the struggle for dignity, reminding us of our shared human connections.

Entering the gallery you are pushed back by a phalanx of wooden soldiers, helmets, shields, and guns bulging out of the wall – a present day vision of Uccello's Battle of San Romano. The effect is to transform you from a mere spectator to an active participant in an ongoing human struggle. To remind you that both inside and outside the gallery walls you are always already under assault and part of a real and vital war for dignity and justice. Moving through the space, we come upon two altars commemorating both death and the anonymous masked revolutionaries among us who resist the ongoing assault on our dignity and that of our family and friends. We are asked both to recognize them and meditate upon what this means to us, as we bow are heads to watch the flickering candles on the floor. An oversize portrait of an adolescent gangster watches over the whole scene, proudly displaying his camaraderie while his eyes betray fear and a sense of resignation. While the mood of the front room communicates feelings of anger, frustration, indignation, and fear, the work in the back room back room bears witness to the personal sadness and pain. We see the victims and are asked to recognize of family and friends, to feel compassion and empathy, to connect with their humanity.

On Friday night of the opening, friends chatted with friends, strangers chatted with strangers. A vibe of love was in the air, coursing through our bodies with the beats of the music spun by the two djs. An impromptu dance circle formed with beautiful bodies moving and shaking and sweating together. And I hope everyone like me had a riot.
-Gordon Fraser
www.gordonfraserfinearts.com
www.myspace.com/gordon_fraser