Most art that I enjoy you have to look, look again, and probably look once again at to get under the skin of. The fleeting joy of translating the literal comes and goes but the satisfaction of unpicking the less obvious and the unexpected, stays. When upon closer inspection we discover something new, there is a little more satisfaction to be taken from the act of looking. Art can give us something deeper to think about.
Over the years as my practice has taken twists and turns and ups and downs, one question has grown tall above the rest: “what do I want to communicate in my work?”.
The visual language (for visual artists) is a powerful form of communication that we can tap into in a way that outshines other methods for us. Through art we can say what we want to say without literally saying it. And through this indirect method, we’ve said it better than we would have if we had simply...said it.
These days, even during moments where I am painting casually, there remains an undertone of a theme or mood I am attempting to capture. Ideas close to my heart have a way of spilling out onto the paper. Interests, pieces of news that resonate with my worldview, injustices that conflict with my values, feelings and thoughts I am experiencing. All the way from A to Z my work is shaped by the way I interpret and perceive the world. The art is a mirror to me as I am a mirror to my art.
This takes us to the next big question. When we see the art of one artist, do we want to see consistency in their output and style? Or do we want to see the world through their eyes, however it may appear?
When visiting exhibitions solely dedicated to one artist, what has captured me most has been their mind. There are usually several key themes that we see but these ideas can be random, unconnected, varied. Varied like the inner workings of the artist, like all people, are.
To go to a show and see room after room of the same, consistent style can start off well. There may be phases of deep exploration into a topic for periods at a time. This might be a year or five years or a decade. Or perhaps the artist had several parallel work streams they rotated their efforts on for many years. The output of these phases could be a series of paintings all stylistically very similar (think the blue paintings by Picasso from 1900 - 1904). Or it could be a body of work that spans drawings, notes, sculptures, soundscapes, photography that are joined up by the common thread of the topic.
We as the audience get to see the commitment that is made to master a style or covey a subject and develop it to a point that it becomes a signature style. The artist has created a body of work that makes sense together. The very essence of them is felt in the work.
But if the body of work lasted a whole lifetime, if that was all that they made, if all the rooms in the exhibition had different versions of essentially the same thing...wouldn’t we get bored?
I’ve always loved the moment you enter a room of a retrospective and your jaw drops. Where the work shocks you. Not because it is controversial but because you wouldn’t have expected it. This is it for me. The moment the mind of the artist takes precedence over their style and technical ability. We fall in love with them because of how they dared to think differently and do differently. How the artist led the viewer on a journey they couldn’t have predicted.
In today’s world, I feel we are losing the element of being surprised. Holiday destinations can be researched in advance to the point that we have basically seen the place on social media before seeing it IRL. People go on dates or job interviews and everyone has stalked everyone beforehand. You go to your favourite artist’s Instagram page and we see lots of the same type of content - to deviate too much could wipe out a following and an income.
But I am starting to get tired with this. Without change there is little growth. Perfection is shallow. I am all for committing to a body of work, to digging and digging into a subject until I get to the bottom of it. But I don’t only want to dig. I don’t want every square on my Instagram to be so curated and stylistically on point that I’ve turned into a brand that has guidelines and rules and consumers who expect everything to be just-so.
NO THANKS.
As an artist - and many may disagree here - I believe we have a duty to not always do what is expected of us. To rebel sometimes. And yeah, break the art rules.
We are complicated people. We think creatively, often in abstract ways, connecting dots that may seem less obvious to others. Sometimes we can seem illogical and irrational or scatterbrained but it is because our brains are going fast. We are often in another world in our head thinking five hundred thoughts others have no idea about. This is often difficult to explain to people. It also makes it difficult to constantly stick to one standard way of doing art.
So to any artist reading this and wondering if they should be following some sort of art formula I say this - do what YOU want. Do it. When a topic requires deeper attention and you feel it in your gut then trust that. Dig. Dig for twenty years and investigate every corner if that feels right to you. If you want to experiment, because the old stuff is boring now, because the thrill has gone, then experiment. Do not hesitate.
If you care about your work, your inner signature will shine through. It always does. And the people who follow you, who enjoy your art, will want that. Not a post everyday of the same ol’ same ol’ for the next however many decade. This advice might not win the algorithms and it might not win as many commissions and followers and sponsored deals. But being authentic will allow your artist’s mind to continue flourishing. You will liberate yourself. And your audience, your fellow explorers, will walk a road less travelled with you where they can be truly surprised.