Jackson Pollack

This semester I have been studying the works of Jackson Pollack and I have to say I do not understand what the big fuss is about. Jackson Pollack is famous for breaking the traditions of art, and making painting into something new and unique.  What I am struggling with is that these later Pollack paintings are sold for millions of dollars and, to me, they look like lines and dots. My little sister, who is in elementary school, threw some paint onto a blank canvas and earned an “A” and many accolades on her art assignment because it was deemed that she created a “classic Pollack painting”.  Not to offend anyone, including my little sister, but that is ridiculous. Between you, me, and the media, as admitted by Pollack himself, he had one too many, was around some paint and woke up the next day with a splattered canvas which he then called his new phase of art and sold his painting(s) in order eat.  He died at the peak of his fame, never going back to his style, which was extraordinary, and is remembered as one of the “great American artists”.

            Pollack simply, in addition to being an artist, was a marketing genius. He created his paintings, set a price, and then refused sell them for less than what he deemed their worth thereby making the paintings costly and rare.  This strategy enhanced his reputation and once you have a big reputation in the art world, you can blow your nose in a tissue, call it art and sell it for millions of dollars.

            Remembering Jackson Pollack, not for his art, but for his ability to market himself to the art world and trick everyone into thinking that he was a genius in order to make money, does not do him justice.  At one point he truly painted like the talented artist he was, not selling out for profit.   But, art critics and viewers and connoisseurs alike are to blame.  I truly believe that when they look at Pollack’s paintings they see the same thing that I do, except they do not have the courage to say it is nothing special, but have to praise it because everyone else does.  In reality, we are the Emperor in Pollack’s clothes.  We just need a child to say that we are  “naked” or just admit that Pollack’s paintings look like a fourth graders work of art, but that just adds to the extent of Pollack’s legacy.

Beauty

Chapter 3, "The Art of Having a Lofty Perspective" is all about beauty,which is in the eye of the beholder. We can all recognize natural beauty as being aesthetically pleasing, or not, and the same goes for art. The opinion of art varies from person to person and that is the beauty of it all.

College is the same as art.  As I stated in my current blogs, I will be writing about college, a lot, because that topic is always on my mind.  The idea that one college is better than another, or has a nicer campus, or whatever, is in the eye of the beholder.  The tour guides of each college state that their school is the best and they are happy, not that the school would have a cranky tour guide. College campuses, like art, are different.  We need to accept these differences and the way people think about them and literally move on.  All art is some form of art and all colleges teach something.  To claim otherwise is to miss the point.

Art of Being Artless

Was George Eastman lucky or clever?  Did he have skill or just a marketing genius?  Was Bob Ross a talented artist or simply a brilliant promoter? Who is to say who is an artists or fraud?

Fraud is a word I chose with care.  Just because a picture is in a museum, does not make it great art.  The pictures that never make it to galleries is not  any less great? Of course there is always the idea that photographs have no value when taken and then years later are deemed great art. 

Acting is different.  We hear about paintings and photos that were panned by critics and later held up as an art standard, but acting performances that were said to be very poor are not usually heard to be brilliant in later years.  Bad acting as they say is bad acting (unless I learn otherwise later chapters).  Acting should also be part of the evolving review.

We need to get back to the issue of fraud. Are there really great actors as well as those that market themselves well, like Eastman and Ross.  The answer is yes. But does that mean anything?  At the end of the day if people want to purchase a camera they do not use particularly well, watch a guy who can paint some pretty tress, or tune into a sitcom with panned laughter, its all the same.

Bonnard

The thing about Blogs is, well, they are just that, blogs, or a train of thought or consciousness that takes on a shape or form (should I trademark that?).

We were assigned the task of writing about the article “The Art of Making A World” (“Art”).  If this were a traditional English class, I would feel compelled to do a summary of the article, quoting and citing and spewing back what I thought the teacher wanted to read.  However, I have entered my senior year at Herricks and am empowered with choices- do I want to do what is expected or venture out and use my voice and see what happens.  Voice wins. 

Upon reading “Art”, I thought, or knew, the article was about the artist Pierre Bonnard, his life, choices and paintings. But, then, almost immediately, like layers of a painting, the article changed and became about, well, me.

I am in the midst of applying to colleges and have many choices to make.  Where am I going to go? What shall I declare as my major?   Will I get in? What are my essays going to be about? My questions go on and on and on. The point is, that “Perspective is the key”, as stated in the first few sentences of Art. Perspective, of course, is the answer. 

“Art” spoke about perspective from an artist’s point of view, specifically, Bonnard. Bonnard chose to be with a woman, Marthe, who seemed a bit mentally unbalanced, to say the least.  Bonnard connected to her because , as stated, he “is the great example of an artist who made the most of a relationship that, to outsiders, seemed tragic, but which proves that all relationship are finally unknowable except to those inside them.” (p11) For me, perspective is not unlike Bonnard’s.  No one knows who I feel about this college process or can help me decide where I will end up.  It is all up to me and I do not have to explain my choice, only be happy with the final decision. 

“Art” put it best by stating that ‘it’s about looking hard enough to recognize, say, that things appear different when seen out of the corner of your eye or squinting into the sun or staring from the light into a shadow.”  (p.13)That is the artsy interpretation of perspective.  I would say, perspective is stepping back, taking a deep breath, looking at your options and then making an informed decision based upon the choices you are given. Whoever said that life mimics art or is it that art mimics life, wasn’t kidding.  Choices. We all have to make them.  Bonnard could have left Marthe, but chose to stay with her because she, on some weird level, inspired his art, but arguably ruined his life.  Choices.  I will have to make a choice about where I want to go school and cannot let my own Marthe (whatever preconceived notions about college or what I believe something one school may have over another) stop me from making my choice.

Bonnard said it best, “The moment one says one is happy one no longer is.” (p. 22) Bonnard would “go and look at them [subjects]. I take notes. Then I go home. And before I start painting I reflect. I dream.” (p.23) Again, here is an artist as college applicant.  If we are content, we do not strive.  Picking one college because of its location discards another potential college which has a program or two of interest.  Reflecting, imagining, dreaming, visualizing, picturing where I want to go makes me no different than an artist like Bonnard painting for perfection, nor was he different than a high school senior searching for his or her perfect fit.

I keep waiting for a sign from the universe telling me where to go.  It is said of Bonnard’s art, “things don’t happen, they’re implied.”  Just like in a Bonnard painting where Marthe is in the bath, the landscape is outside the window and a piece or part of Bonnard is somewhere in the picture, the answer is there, I just have to look for it. 

The Return of Zines

Hello , my faithful public readers! I have come back from a long a fruitful summer vacation feeling relaxed and refreshed, but more importantly ready to take on my senior year of high school. Starting this year off right, I will be making new "Zines" for the school to read. I will keep the theme and pieces a secret, but I will tell you this, my theme is on every seniors mind, and are probably stressing this subject every single day. This year I wow to work harder and to make my name known among the Herricks students. How? I do not know yet but I will let you know......

Poker

I finished Wittgenstein’s Poker  and I have more of an emotional feeling than an intellectual one.  I am sad.  You have two geniuses (in a group of other geniuses), Karl Popper and Ludwig Wittgenstein.  Both men are tortured by their memories, scarred by their families and the Nazi takeover of their homes, and a bit crazy.  Both come from the same homeland, displaced and lonely.  But he difference between them, aside from their philosophical views, is that Popper spent his entire life saying “look at me”., I am smart, funny and all important” , while Wittgenstein was more, “I do not need your approval, for I know I am smarter than all of you”.  Popper wanted more than anything to be like Wittgenstein, but could not.  That is the crux of the book.

At the all important H3 meeting at Cambridge, whatever the real facts, as no one knows, Popper was speaking; Wittgenstein got angry, as he was known to do, brandished a hot poker and then walked out.  Popper selectively remembers the incident as he being so clever that Wittgenstein had met his match, abdicated his thrown by walking out, thereby winning some epic battle.  Wittgenstein barely remembered Popper at all.  Others who were there seemed to believe that Popper embellished the facts to look like some hero who had won some huge philosophical debate.  To me, Popper is a sad character.  He should have been comfortable in his own skin and not cared a lick about Wittgenstein.

Further, today, Popper is most only remembered in New Zealand where he taught.  Wittgenstein, on the other hand, is remembered all over.  This knowledge would probably kill Popper all over again and Wittgenstein would still call virtually all of us idiots.

Wittgenstein’s Poker was well written, informative and really drew the reader in on the small issue of brandishing a hot poker.  But the book, to me was more about how we are all affected by our family and friends and that we should be comfortable in our own skins and not look to the approval of others for our own happiness. 

Wittgenstein's Poker

I have a confession.  I am not done reading Wittgenstein’s Poker.  I have had the book for a couple of weeks and by all accounts I should be done.  The trouble is that after I have read a chapter, I re-read not only that chapter but one or two chapters before that, fearing that I missed an important point or failed to grasp a concept.  I find that I am not entirely wrong.  Each time I read the book, I come up with new ideas and questions, not only about Wittgenstein, Popper and those in their “circle”, but also the social climate at the time and the influence they had upon so many.  I cannot help but think about what would have happened in the philosophical world if Wittgenstein and Popper had been friends and worked together? Perhaps this is a childish thought, but I cannot help but think that each of these men would have benefited emotionally and intellectually from one another.  Or, perhaps, it is the fact that they were not friends that inspired them, consciously or not, to the greatness they achieved. ( I see now that these philosophers have had an influence on me!)

               What I did take from Wittgenstein’s is that the author’s touch on aspects of both Wittgenstein and Popper, makes assumptions based upon facts and information, but then refuse to elaborate, only to bring up the issues in later chapters, again, refusing to elaborate. This is a bit frustrating.  If the authors have something to say or conjecture, just say it and move on.  I chalk this up to the fact that the authors are British and enough said on that!  For example, the authors elude to the fact that Wittgenstein was suicidal, like his brothers and one of them who actually did commit suicide, but more than that, they state that he was likely homosexual. Whether, it was overt or " in the closet", whether that played a part in his personality or more importantly his philosophy, the authors refuse to take a position, only to put it out for conjecture.

               Popper, too, according to the authors had many issues, but the authors refuse to leap to the conclusion as to whether they affected his philosophies.  For example, he never kissed his wife on the lips, was an extreme workaholic whose wife was extremely depressed, and made a conscious decision not to have children.

               Wittgenstein was, as set forth in the book,  little published, revered, hated, but yet asked into every important intellectual social circle of the time.

               Popper was, as set forth in the book, disliked, argumentative, never asked in those social circles, but published extensively and quoted often.

               Wittgenstein’s influence was on philosophers and artists.

               Popper’s influence was on business politics and science.

               Other readers must share in my frustration.  Both Wittgenstein and Popper were from the same home town, geniuses in their field, hated, with personalities described as “bullying aggressive intolerant self absorbed”. Should, could or would they have been friends seems as much the beginnings of a philosophical debate as any other topic those wildly intelligent men debated.  Perhaps I should start my own “circle” and see where it goes.