18 April 2008

a label is just a label

I have two posts in draft. Sometimes you know something is worth holding onto, but you don't always get back to finish it. In the mean time I want to say...

Yesterday I watched a video of Sarah cutting into pieces work that was not acceptable to her, work made with sales in mind. It reminded me of a time when she took almost all of her work and painted over it. In my mind, she is a professional artist because she does not put out work that she cannot stand beside, that is not "honest" for her. At least that is how I see it.

Or is a professional artist one who does paint to sell, and a "real" artist is one who really doesn't give a toss about sales except to buy new materials, and who paints what must be painted, puts into form that which will not stay inside the person?

Is the artist who takes other paid employment to support their art more professional than the painter who churns out work to a formula that sells? I used to say that I would work to support my art. Painting commissions is part of that work. When I am through painting these works which feed me and buy me more materials then I will paint the work that is more important to me. I have two exhibitions to work for. That work will be work that is generated inside me. That is what I am passionate about, that takes precedence even over writing and emails.

At the moment I am painting commissions. I am grateful for the work and hope the clients like the results. I try to picture the places through my own eyes, feel the wind on my face, smell the sea spray. It isn't always easy. But if I can't do that, can't try to find the sense of wonder that inspired the orignal photograph, then I can't paint well.

I follow the photograph for the underpainting, usually in acrylic. I like to paint in layers and glazes, I really am a mucky pup. I am taking a break and typing with blue fingers. That does not make me an artist. Getting an exact copy of the photograph does not make me an artist. I suspect that putting the photograph away and then interpreting the scene again (this time in oils over the acrylic) with whatever feeling I have engendered from the photograph and my past experiences might be what makes me an artist.

Does earning my daily bread by painting make me a professional? Or is it the standards we set for ourselves that does that?

What am I? An artist, a professional artist, a painter. I am whatever I choose to call myself. A label is just a label.

It is clouding over, my light will be gone soon. I must go. I have a deadline to meet, set by a tough boss who demands high standards and is never completely satisfied with what I paint. The next time I see her in the mirror I will tell her to lighten up a bit; sometimes an artist needs some fun too!

5 comments:

Sarah said...

A label *is* just a label. Saying 'she's an artist' is the same as saying 'she's a woman'. It doesn't describe every little thing you go through that makes you a woman, or the potential you have as a female. It's just a classification.

You're an artist. I'm an artist. But we're both so much more. We're unclassified. We're a magic trick, each of us. And that's the way we should be. And that's what art should be...magical.

Putting the seasalt on your face while you paint, figuratively or literally...that's your magic.

And it's way cooler than any label could be.

I can't wait to see your painting!

Anonymous said...

What does a public label like "professional" or "artist" do? Does it give us the permission we feel we need to do the things we do? That's a point worth some reflection, I think.

And, what if we give ourselves private labels like "failure" or "fake"? What do labels like that do to us?

I think the public and private labels might be interlinked, somehow.

Anonymous said...

PS A quote that might fit this post:

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony." (Ghandi)

Kay said...

Edited extract from a private email I wrote this morning:

I look at the big things that need change, and I struggle to see how my painting a landscape contributes to peace and love and all that we want in the world.

... then when I see paintings by other artists that really move me I understand how important art can be and I realise that I am not doing what I want to do in my own art. My next series will though.

I have two strands inside me, one which gives a message but in a gentle way, and one which draws attention to the plight of the voiceless. That would be in a more "in-your-face"way.

One would reflect what I see in society, the other would abstract an ideal and put it into a contemplative but harmonious work.

My August exhibition will be the latter, it is a group show with a music theme. I am already painting it in my mind. It's message will be of peace, but I hope to carry that message through beauty.

Kay said...

In reply to Tania's comment; I think the internal private labels are the ones that build and destroy. Perhaps if we need a strong external label it is because the internal one is not healthy.

I am lucky to have found my home in a country that supports art. The down side of that is that for I now I paint what people ask me for, instead of shouting loudly with my brush about the things I want to say.

It is then that I doubt, I question, I think I am not doing my best. That is when I remind myself that I am doing a job that supports my art, that while I am always in my paintings, my paintings are not me.

What do I want my paintings to be? I want then to give pause, both for happy reflections and remembering, and to stir. The paintings by other artists that I remember are ones that struck something within me, made me pause, reflect, and move on feeling warmer, caressed, or stirred to change, to react.

I will insist quietly sometimes. I do that with my signature. But soon I will be shouting, on unstretched canvas with oil sticks (I haven't found them here... must look further).

And if I am true to form, I will then retreat a little and recover in my watercolours or my writing.

Maybe I need to recognise that I have many voices, and each one has something to say.