Blogger Women and Guerilla Girls

Blogger women left to right: Kathy Cartwright, Margaret Ryall, Carolyn Abrams

Here we are at the Clark Museum in Williamstown, Mass! It was wonderful spending time with these very LOVELY ladies over lunch. We discussed our backgrounds in art, process, and ideas for the future. The only thing that could have improved our day is if YOU had joined us!

Returning to Cynthia Freeland's book, But is it art?, I've reached chapter five and a fascinating (and timely) discussion about the "Guerilla Girls." This is a group of radical feminist visual artists who emerged in New York City twenty-five years ago and are known for placing posters all over the city to protest the gender and racial imbalance of artists represented in galleries and museums. They've expanded their mission since then to include cinema as well. An anonymous group, they assume the names of deceased female artists and number somewhere about 100.
I you want to know more, they have a website at http://www.guerillagirls.com/.

Why does Freeland mention this group in her book? It's because she wants to answer the question: is gender relevant to art - to work an artist makes, or to meaning? And - what about sexual orientation? In my opinion, these are both good questions. One of the Guerilla Girls posters from 1989 asks "Do women have to be naked to get into the Met. Museum?" In other words, only paintings and sculptures of female nudes give women entry into this prestigious venue. The rest of the text on the poster informs us that "less than 5% of the artists in the Modern Art Sections are women, but 85% of the nudes are female." Hmmmm....
Another GG poster lists "The Advantages of being a woman artist." Notably, one item on the list is "not having to deal with the pressure of success." And, another advertisement pointed out that the 1997 still-life exhibit at MoMA (The Museum of Modern Art) featured only 4 women artists out of a total of 71 artists.

So, we might also ask why there's a paucity of great women artists throughout history. Freeland explains that, historically, women were not in a social or economic position to become professional artists. They couldn't acquire the materials or necessary training, nor could they gain entry into the important social groups that would legitimate their status as artists. And then, there's the notion that a "woman's place is in the home."

It's only been since 1971 that women have risen in the ranks in the art world. For instance, Georgia O'Keeffe's work is now housed in her own museum. And, there are others. Nearly a decade ago I spent a week with a very famous female artist whose work hangs in museums all over the world. She bitterly complained to me that her work sells for a fraction of what her male counterparts get and there's nothing she could do about it. She also complained that the feminine palette and content in her work is considered less important to serious collectors. Don't get me wrong, her work sells in the six figures but still below her male peers.

The newest series that I've developed, The Laws of Nature, is deceiving. Someone recently remarked that if they didn't know me, they would have attributed these paintings to a man. They're decidedly masculine. Interesting - but, should that even matter??

There's more to this, and Freeland offers a banquet. Next time....

And now, it's time for your thoughts.

Museums and the Artist

But is it art? by Cynthia Freeland

In chapter 4 of her book, Freeland takes a look at museums, markets, and money. I mentioned yesterday that she raises a number of interesting questions about this topic, and I'll use this post to ponder one of my own that is related.

Freeland explains the different categories of museums and their missions. Some are dedicated to collecting and preserving a particular genre of art or art by one particular artist or group of artists. Other art museums are less specific, but they all have in common a mission to collect, preserve, educate, and facilitate scholarship. This is a weighty mission, to be sure.

After considering the influences of corporate sponsors upon museums yesterday, I began to think about what all this means to individual artists, like us! For instance, if the general public acquires a taste for blockbuster exhibits that hyper-stimulate the senses, how will this impact the small voice of the individual artist? Will we be heard, and do we fit? How will all this change art and how will artists respond?

I ask this because I have a dear artist friend whose goal it is to have her work hang in a museum one day. I've never had this ambition, so it's not something I can relate to. But, I now wonder if that goal is a thing of the past - if museums have become something other than the highest goal an artist can achieve.

But, what if you want your work to hang in a museum? How would you go about it? I've read lots of advice about this topic in the art magazines that I normally purchase and the formula seems to be: gallery director + curator + museum board = museum hangs your work. So, you'd have to begin by establishing a relationship with a gallery director who has a strong connection to one or more museum curators. That director's reputation is on the line every time he/she makes a recommendation to the curator and, the curator's reputation is on the line every time he/she makes a recommendation to the museum board. So, these folks are cautious and select artists who have proven track record, and not just on the art work itself.

I can't resist comparing exposure on the world wide web to exposure in a museum. According to Freeland: art museums are still seen as elitist institutions. Across Europe and North America, attendance averages no more than 22 per cent of the population, and this group is skewed towards higher income brackets and educational backgrounds. Don't get me wrong, I love museums and it would be an honor to have my work in one. I just wonder if the role of museums in society, and in the art world, is changing.

What do you think?

Museums

But is it art? by Cynthia Freeland

I've returned from a lovely weekend with former classmates at my 40th reunion. It was wonderful in every way and a reminder of how important those developmental years were for each of us.

On Tuesday I'll announce the three lucky winners of the contest to win an autographed copy of Wendy Richmond's excellent book, Art Without Compromise! In the meantime, I'll continue my discussion of Freeland's book.

Diving right into chapter 4, Freeland begins an examination of the evolving role of museums. This interests me a great deal because she asks some probing questions that I hope to discuss throughout this week. Today, I'm interested in Freeland's inquiry into whether present-day museum directors may feel restricted in what kinds of art can and cannot be shown because of the source of funding for these exhibitions.

To be clear, a general shift in museum funding occurred around 1965 away from private philanthropists to corporations who were interested in promoting culture and the arts. According to Freeland: the earliest corporations to provide major funding to museums were tobacco and oil companies, which likely sought to polish tarnished imaged by supporting "culture." The shift to corporate sources coincides with the rise of the "blockbuster" exhibition where funders expect a lot of bang for their buck.

These exhibitions include the Treasures of Tutankahmen, Pompeii, and Jewelsof the Romanovs which, according to this author, were intended to appeal to the largest number of the public and middle-class taste (whatever that is!).

So, my question is whether or not these corporate-backed exhibitions induce a form of self-censorship in museums who need them to remain commercially viable. And, if so, does the public suffer as a result?

The Law of Inertia

The Law of Inertia by Katharine A. Cartwright, 2010
watercolor on paper
26" x 20"

Another week and another painting to add to my series "The Laws of Nature." The fun hasn't stopped, so I'll start another soon. In the meantime, I'm about to depart on a trip to my alma mater for a 40th Class Reunion this weekend. Yikes!! How did that much time elapse so quickly? Is this a violation of the "laws of nature?" The last post was about what we'd change in our art careers if we had the ability to turn back the hands of time. Looking back in my yearbook, I see that I was named "The Most Artistic" in my class, with a prediction that I'd become a famous artist. Well, I haven't become famous (yet) but I have continued in art. Did that prediction influence me enough to make it a life-long goal, or was it a logical conclusion because of my preoccupation with art? How much do other people influence our self-perception? Perhaps I'll discover a few answers to that question as I spend a weekend with my former classmates.

Until next week, happy painting everyone!!

Turning Back the Hands of Time

Please excuse my brief lapse in "book reporting," but I've been up to my ears in preparing TWO solo exhibitions for this summer. Matting, framing, labelling, writing artist's statements and price lists, crating .... ugh! My dining room has nearly one hundred paintings crated and ready to go for both exhibitions. No time for reading/writing until a little later.

HOWEVER, I can't resist throwing out a question for all of you to ponder:

If you had the opportunity to "turn back the clock" and return to the time when you first decided to become an artist, what would you do differently? What didn't you attend to, or what path didn't you take that you now wish you had? Can you still do it, or is it too late?

I'll begin by saying that I should have been much more productive in my twenties and thirties. I should have painted more, listened to others less, and actively sought more venues to display my work. Obviously, it's not too late now, but I often wonder where I'd be today if I'd attended to all that more diligently when I was younger.

What about you?

Can art break down barriers among cultures?

This question appears in Chapter 2 of Cynthia Freeland's book, But is it art? One answer is offered by John Dewey, who wrote that art is a universal language because it provides an immediate encounter with other cultures if we take the time to consider it. Freeland expands on Dewey's idea by adding that we must know the external facts before trying to acquire an internal attitude of appreciation for another community's art.

I'm reminded of a discussion we had here months ago when we considered appropriating symbols from other cultures in our own art. I think we all agreed that there's potential for misunderstanding, especially if those symbols are used in a way that might offend the originating culture. More recently, we've seen the anger that's emerged over the use of sacred symbols in our own culture. What the artist intends isn't always clear to the viewer, and can be misunderstood.

So, when Freeland asks if art can break down barriers among cultures, I wonder what those barriers are and how they form. Does art transcend all of those barriers? What does it take on the part of the viewer to openly regard and accept art from another culture or even from our own?

I'll digress from the book to offer my viewpoints on these questions. What are the barriers among and within cultures and how do they form? My personal opinion is that people, by nature, are self-protective. It's a characteristic that has successfully kept our species alive thus far. But, we take this part of our nature too far sometimes, and see danger where there is none. Mental barriers are constructed when we experience something that is different from what we are accustomed to. Will that new thing harm us in some way? Do we need to construct customs or laws to protect us from ever experiencing that again? Translated, this means that exposure to "foreign" art might automatically trigger in us the instinct to reject it. Foreign art challenges our established customs and beliefs, which we hold sacred and protect.

Does art transcend these barriers? Yes and no. I think we all respond to "beauty" as we comprehend it in any work of art. But, "art" doesn't have to be beautiful. It can rely on form and content to be considered a work of art. So, how do people accept unfamiliar form and content embedded in foreign art? I agree with Freeland that art needs to be viewed within the context in which it was created.

Finally, what does it take on the part of the viewer to openly regard and accept art from another culture and even from our own? I've already offered "logic" and "context," but would like to add eliminate fear. Fear blocks our desire to understand.

These are only my opinions, and I'd like to know yours!

What, How & Why

The Universal Law of Gravity by Katharine A. Cartwright
Series: The Laws of Nature
Watercolor on paper, 26" x 20"

I completed this painting two days ago and have had a lot of questions about this new series from bloggers and non-bloggers alike. So, I thought I'd use this weekend post to provide a greater explanation of what I'm doing.

Those of you who've followed my work know that I'm a "series" painter. I spend copious amounts of time thinking about concepts for series. I rarely write down my ideas and mostly keep them in my head. This past winter, I painted a number of false starts in series that didn't satisfy me. I may return to them in the future for refinement, and those paintings serve as my "notes."

My newest series, The Laws of Nature, was formulated in a painting demonstration I gave to a student last winter. The lesson was about the division of space in non-objective art to create effective designs. I set that demo aside for about a month, and then decided to use it as a foundation to create this new series. There are only two transitional paintings between the original demo and the first formal painting in this series, The Law of Reciprocal Actions. The concept for this new series is to comment on the attempt by humans to harness the raw materials and energy of the universe through our technology within the limitations of the physical laws of nature, which render our "machines" imperfect and our attempts flawed. This is not a statement against technology; rather, it's a comment about our limitations.

Most frequently, I'm asked about how I create these paintings. Unlike my previous work, I use no references outside of my imagination. I begin by stretching a full-sheet of watercolor paper and outlining the intended perimeter of the painting (26" x 20"). Then I ponder the physical "law" that will become the subject. Once I understand that law, I begin drafting forms on my paper after I've selected a focal point (or node) according to the Law of Thirds. Using my imagination, I begin with integrating forms at the focal point and then expand from there. The only thing I think about is how these forms will relate to each other, creating a variety of shapes, and establishing directionality. My approach is improvisational since I don't do any prior sketching. It takes me about two hours to complete a detailed pencil contour drawing.

Next, I select five colors and begin painting. I have no plan, but try to pay attention to establishing color dominance and using color to lead the eye. Precision painting takes a looooong time, so I need a full week to complete one painting. I'm never quite certain how a form will be painted, and usually don't decide until I've completed several adjacent forms. That tells me how to paint the next form. This is a purely intuitive process.

I've completed three paintings in this series and am now drafting the fourth, entitled The Law of Inertia. Believe me, I've had to overcome a lot of inertia to arrive at solutions for this one!!

I'll conclude by saying that this series is the easiest one I've ever painted - it freely flows from my subconscious and is quite natural. This is probably because I'm painting the worlds of my imagination, so it comes naturally and is satisfying. Isn't that what it's all about?

Your thoughts?

Paradigms and Purposes

Plan for the Gardens of Versailles

But is it art? by Cynthia Freeland

Diving right into Chapter 2, Freeland begins by suggesting that contemporary artists who create work using blood, urine, maggots, and plastic surgery are successors of past artists who took sex, violence, and war as their subjects. Since this type of work doesn't fit into either Kant or Hume's model for art, what theory can be applied? Freeland hopes to offer a context for today's art by visiting five historical periods in Western art:

Athens, 5th Century B.C.E.

Classical tragedy began in Athens, and gave us the theory that art imitates nature or human life. Plato labeled art as skilled craft by imitators. He found tragedy to be morally confusing to the masses. However, Artistotle disagreed and stated that imitation is not only natural for humans but even pleasurable. He felt that tragedy could educate people about adversity and offer a catharsis, although he did take exception with Euripides' Medea, where a good person chooses evil. Aristotle believed that the hero should have an unflawed character and simply makes mistakes.

Chartres, 1200 A.D.

This thriving medieval French city is home to a famous gothic-style Notre-Dame cathedral. Freeland notes that the main entry portal has statues of pagan philosophers like Artistotle and Pythagoras, amid hundreds of saints and apostles. Why? Chartres was known for its school of theology, which was really a liberal arts institution where all classical authors were studied. Therefore, the builders were influenced by these philosophers and incorporated them into the ornamentation. But, it was Thomas Aquinas who developed a theory about art at that time that became truly influential. His idea was that beauty is an essential property of God and that human art works should aspire to be God-like. Cathedral builders thus concerned themselves with proportion, light, and allegory to build what would represent God's heavenly illumination and to reveal sacred truths in the stained-glass windows, sculptures, paintings, and architecture. Hence, the role of art was a spiritual one.

Versailles, 1660-1715

The famous Gardens of Versailles, commissioned by Louis XIV, were designed by Andre' Le Notre around the theme of Apollos, the sun god. Greek mythology was important to the plan. The purpose of the garden was to signify Louis' dominance as an absolute monarch and to serve as a venue for official gatherings. Although Kant never visited the gardens, he saw engravings of them and commented that it seems strange that landscape gardening may be regarded as a kind of painting and added that it is art since it allows for the free play of imagination and that it is beautiful. Kant's ideas gave rise to new genres of landscape painting and Romantic poets.

Premier of Wagner's opera Parsifal, 1882

Richard Wagner was a Romantic who was in the patronage of King Ludwig II of Bavaria. Parsifal was his last opera. Philospher Friderich Nietzche, who was in the audience on the opening-night of this five hour opera, was so impacted by Wagner's work that he wrote and published The Case of Wagner in 1888 to praise the "psychological knowingness" of this opera but also to criticize its "sick" plot. There began a clash between aesthetic and moral concerns.

Warhol's Brillo Box, 1964

According to Freeland, Warhol helped spark the transition from macho New York Abstract Expressionism to playful gender-bending postmodernism. Warhol's brillo boxes exactly replicated the ones in supermarkets, which lead art critic Arthur Danto to question whether this was art. On the other hand, philosopher George Dickie offered in defense of Warhol's work the "institutional theory of art" which states that any artifact which has been conferred upon it the status of candidate for appreciation by some person or persons acting on behalf of a certain social institution (the art world) is art. Danto eventually concluded that a work of art is an object that embodies meaning. It is Danto's theory of art that enabled the artworld to accept the works of Warhol, Serrano, Hirst, Koons, and other "controversial" artists.

What Freeland demonstrates in this historical narrative is a broadening of the term "art" from narrow in its early history to almost all-inclusive today. The historic notions of beauty, morality, and form are very rigid by comparison. But, even today, not all that is "art" is "good art." We'll expand on this thought in the next few posts.

And now, your thoughts??

Kant's Legacy

Goya's Executions of the third of May 1808

But is it art? by Cynthia Freeland


Moving along in Chapter 1, Freeland continues her discussion on Kant's philosophy. As you'll remember from yesterday's post, Kant was interested in defining "beauty", although he didn't feel that all art must be beautiful. The influence of his ideas extended to art writers over the next two centuries, including Bell, Bullough, and Greenberg.


Bell, whose writing coincided with the emergence of artists like Cezanne and Picasso, emphasized "Significant Form" rather than content. By that, he meant the combination of lines and colors in a work of art that appeal to our aesthetic emotions. He thought that artists should avoid creating works of art that are concerned with life or politics.


Bullough, on the other hand, emphasized "psychical distance" as essential to experiencing art. Similar to Bell, he felt that sexual or political content would block aesthetic consciousness.


Greenberg, a great supporter of Pollock, "celebrated form as the quality through which a painting or sculpture refers to its medium and to its own conditions of creation." So, content is unimportant and the surface and paint are all-important.


Freeland moves on to discuss Serrano's highly controversial work (e.g. Piss Christ, Morgue, Heaven and Hell, etc.) How was his work defended by art critics? In particular, the author notes the writings of critic Lucy Lippard (Art in America, April 1990). Her defense of Serrano's work is based upon three aspects:


(1) its formal and material properties - a very large (5' x 3') Cibachrome photograph

(2) its content - evidently, Serrano wanted to condemn the way that culture pays only lip service to a religion without truly endorsing its values. His work was done not to denounce religion but its institutions - to show how our contemporary culture is commercializing and cheapening Christianity and its icons.

(3) its context - the artist has strong ties to Spanish art, especially Goya who was concerned with extreme situations in the human dilemma. Goya lived during a time of terrible atrocities, which he witnessed and expressed symbolically in his art.

Freeland asks if the comparison between Serrano and Goya is a fair one. She writes: Goya is different from Serrano because his artistic ability was greater, and because he depicted violence not to sensationalize it or to shock people but precisley in order to condemn it. However, Lippard argues that Serrano is a skilled and thoughtful artist. Freeland goes on to say that Goya's message might not be morally uplifting after all, but merely a comment on the dreadful condition of human nature. If so, then maybe the link between Serrano and Goya is defensible.


In any case, the shocking art we see today has precedents in Europe. This isn't new, but maybe the meaning is. That's a matter for debate.


Your thoughts??

Taste and Beauty

Brillo Box by Andy Warhol, 1969

But is it art? by Cynthia Freeland

We all know that taste in art is subjective and each person has a different opinion of what is "tasteful." In her book, Freeland examines the historical philosophical debate about taste between Hume and Kant. While both men agreed that works of art can be classified as superior or inferior, they disagreed about why some people have "better taste."

Hume's idea is that "good taste" is acquired through education and experience. He added that it is these educated people who set the "standard of taste" for all, and who differentiate between good and bad works of art. In contrast to that opinion, Freeland notes the skeptics' viewpoint that Hume's taste-arbiters only acquired their values through cultural indoctrination. In other words, these few elite weren't raised in a vacuum, so the culture they grew-up in influenced their opinions. It's a passive way for society to maintain a form of stasis in aesthetics.

On the other hand, Kant was more interested in explaining judgements of "beauty" in order to address "taste." He felt that good judgements in aesthetics are grounded in features of artworks themselves, not just in us and our preferences. Unlike Hume, Kant believed that judgements of beauty were universal and grounded in the real world, even though they were not actually objective. His definition of what makes something beautiful is that it has "purposiveness without a purpose." Say what????

The author unpacks this for us (thank goodness!). She uses the rose as an example. Although we could say that the purpose of a rose is to produce more roses, that's not what makes it beautiful. Beauty is found in the color, texture, and odor of the rose that seem "right" to our senses and elicits pleasure. This is its "purposiveness without a purpose." Kant believed that to make beautiful art requires human genius , the special ability to manipulate materials so that they create a harmony of the faculties causing viewers to respond with distanced enjoyment. So, Freeland interprets Kant's ideas by stating that beautiful objects appeal to our senses, but in a cool, detached way which satisfied our imagination and intellect.

It's interesting for me to read Freeland's comparison of Hume and Kant's ideas. I think that today we operate in a mixture of the two, since society tends place high regard in the opinions of educated art critics and museum curators while also placing value in what satisfies us personally. For instance, I've been to museums and art exhibitions where a few art objects that are proudly on display don't make sense to me - they lack content and/or skill. For me, the art doesn't have to be beautiful, but it must satisfy my emotions and intellect. There must be some sort of significance for it to be included as an important work of art among others that are deemed "great." When I read a lengthy narrative by a curator about the importance of a work of art, sometimes I'm convinced and sometimes not.

This may seem unimportant, but we artists are part of an industry that is worth bazillions of dollars and has some historical significance. Therefore, the opinons of Hume's few educated elite greatly influence the market, which affects even the smallest artist like me. It's somewhat paradoxical.

What are your thoughts??