Not in Our Stars

Methinks Shakespeare’s man Cassius, saying that ‘the fault…is not in our stars but in ourselves,’ spoke to a much broader expression of fault than that of his moment. I’ve seen many people apply this aphorism to support their private or corporate ambitions; to excuse their chosen ways of achieving that preferred brand of greatness, to defy what they thought was their fate or any law standing in their way, and certainly without much regard for the effects on others. If any god or philosophy can be interpreted to endorse, whether overtly or semantically, that an individual or group should hold privilege or power, why then, whatever it takes for that party to take over is entirely permissible, if not necessary. It’s a central reason, I think, for most human strife, whether petty divisions or all-out wars: my beliefs tell me that I should run the universe, and anything that stands in the way of that is wrong, evil, and must be stopped. Exterminated, if need be.

Digital illo: Not in Our Stars

Does claiming that wickedness is all an external construct absolve me?

What a frightening world. What a sad, ugly, and pusillanimous philosophy. I suspect that if we allow that we ourselves might be the cause of the problem, and look into our hearts and minds to see how we might turn, instead, toward finding and contributing toward the many possible solutions, we will find that our stars shine more brightly on us and our fellows all around this little hunk of terrestrial rock and water that we call home.

Digital illo: The Fault Lies Within

What if I can’t pretend to be anonymous and powerless? Maybe I do have both responsibility and, perhaps, even, some little tiny bit to offer…

NSFW / mature audiences only: the band Honningbarna‘s short video, filmed in Kabul in January, says through punk music and visual images that we might do well to pay less attention to fear-mongers and more to what makes us all more human, more happy to be together and alive. I think it’s a raucous, raw, rowdy, and ultimately mightily uplifting piece of admonishment.

Think about taking a look into the benevolent businesses/social causes mentioned at the end of the video, too, if you will: Skateistan and the producers of Afghan Mobile Mini Circus for Children. There is peace and goodness in the world, even in places we might never imagine. Perhaps we all need to expand our thinking beyond how we can bend the universe to our individual, personal benefits and toward larger things like a small child’s joy in juggling or the great youthful freedom and camaraderie found in a skate park.

Digital illo: We are the Circus

Maybe *I* am the clown in this circus…

‘Social Activist Art’ is *New*, You Say???

drawingA recent New York Times article reminded me that, no matter how I might classify myself as anything but an activist, I have always been one, of a sort. It’s true that I’ve always assiduously avoided conversation, let alone physical action, tied to politics, religion, social policy and pretty much any ‘hot topic’ you can name unless I sensed I was in the safest possible environment to do so–generally, amid a comfy flock of like-minded partisans. The article is chronicling the US uprising of a relatively new breed of American artists and their support systems dedicated to, as the title bluntly states, social activism; the author gives appropriate reference, of course, to the practice being a long-standing one in other parts of the world, but shares the view that it’s still rather fresh and new here on American turf.

I’ll grant that the forms and formats may well have changed, and that there might be a larger collective sense among those who would embrace this title of being dedicated to the purpose more specifically than others, but I will step right out on my own tiny soapbox now and assert that, insofar as art is seen as a form of communication–and this might well include virtually all art except that created and performed in private and without any wish or expectation than anyone other than its maker will know it exists–it is inherently activist. The decision to create something I intend to be art and allow it to be known to others says a whole lot of things about me, the subject of my work, and my general worldview, and if I am allowing others to experience these in the art, assumes that they will respond through and with their own worldviews to it, effectively in a social interaction, whether we converse directly about it somehow or those who have interacted with my art turn around and respond to it in the continuation of their lives.

Who knew I was such a rabble-rouser? But truthfully, even by making those ‘meaningless’ little doodles that don’t turn into full-blown drawings or paintings, I am making something of a statement, am I not? I scribble, therefore I am. By doodling, I am not only using my energy to do that rather than anything else, I am also creating a portal through which my thoughts can emerge; if they turn, via this scrawling, into a concrete idea it may lead to the completion of an artwork expressing it more openly. This, in turn, suggests that I have a thing or two to say and I’m willing for others to hear it, see it, feel it–to interpret it and respond to it, even. I never think of myself as daring, but I think it’s fair to say that letting my inmost thoughts and imaginings be seen and analyzed by others through their own filters is at least a little brazen, if not occasionally foolhardy.

One of my late mentors, Lawry Gold, wrestled with the supposed divide between art and function, and he was anything but shy about being an outspoken activist, albeit a very kindhearted and generous one. He was a boldly countercultural person in a great many ways, and yet he seemed to me to reach the peak of his own overt rebelliousness when he began working on a body of art that was deliberately and unabashedly functional (beautifully art-covered, distinctively designed tables, lamps, clocks and the like) for sale through his gallery agents. This was something I know he enjoyed at least a little as cheery cheekiness to tweak artist snobs who were apparently so benighted they couldn’t accept the marriage of form and function thus, or so rich they could afford to sit around waiting for other equally rich people to buy their non-functional work, no matter what the state of the economy. Besides that these were among his most gorgeous and sophisticated works, to me they spoke of the recognition that art, besides taking so many different forms, speaks to us in many different ways, and that breadth and depth has great value.

At the same time, my friend never stopped making ‘non-functional’ art, because he of all people also had a tremendous desire to communicate, whether it was by visual storytelling in his often humorous, whimsically imaginative artworks or by making a more specific point with his illustrative and symbolic works. And he never hesitated to engage in the discourse that followed anyone’s viewing of his work. He and I had a joint exhibition of our artwork once, and as I was curating and installing the show I objected to one of his pieces that he wanted included, thinking it was not in keeping with all of the others we had selected, and he patiently steered me toward a clearer understanding that it was indeed very well suited; even though I never liked that piece as much as the others, I found that it carried an important part of the ‘conversation’ made up by the whole of the exhibition, and in fact that one interaction changed the way I curated many an exhibition of others’ work in the years that followed.

Ultimately, I see in the creation of art–of any form–an act that if it isn’t in open defiance of the social norms, allows or even invites the examination of and discourse on them. So even though much art is not made, like Lawry’s, to function in an obviously practical way, it all serves a purpose; ‘merely’ being beautiful or compelling may be purpose enough in adding layers of pleasure or relief or catharsis, but many works go far beyond that in opening new vistas to our contemplation, influencing our beliefs and even challenging us to change our behavior. All art is potentially advertisement or propaganda, for good or ill. And if that isn’t social activism, I think my encyclopedia needs some new illustrations.

digital illustration from drawings

Is all art crowd-sourced?