The art proofs are in for Sound Of Music. Anyone who has ever proofed a written text or something about to be printed will certainly attest to the idea that this is as far from art making as you can possibly get. All you engage with is spelling, punctuation, cut lines and bleed marks, the DPI of JPG files - the list is endless and if something can go wrong, trust me, it will.
When I was ten I made a painting of “Washington Crossing The Delaware.” I worked very hard on it and then painted the title on the top part of the canvas. I wrote “Whashington Crossing The Delaware.” How stupid could you be? I mean, really, there the teacher is showing this painting in front of the class and everyone is obviously looking at my misspelling and not the painting itself. It’s like displaying your biggest foibles for all and sundry to see. “Yeah maybe the kid’s got a little talent but he can’t spell for s—t.” It haunts me today so I have Tony look over all my spelling for ZXE. The packaging for the CD will have no spelling errors - I promise. But that brings us to the other side of the equation. The painting itself (that no one can see).
I call myself an artist but really have no idea what art is. That’s not entirely true. I know what it is, it’s just that language is so desperately inferior in its description; plus my spelling is bad. I’ve heard and read so many definitions of art that my head is spinning just thinking of them all. One of my favorites is from Marcel Duchamp who wrote: “It’s not what you see that is art; art is the gap.” I also like Henri Matisse’s advice to artists that seems to have gone unheeded in the university system today: “Whoever wishes to devote themselves to painting should begin by cutting out his own tongue.” It reminds me when at the MOMI I saw David Lynch’s Lost Highway. This was before the premier. Before it ever hit a theater. Even before there was a review. No one knew anything about it. After the movie showed the entire audience was perplexed. When the lights came up you were allowed to ask questions. The very first questions was, and I quote: “Mr. Lynch, can you tell me what I just saw?” David Lynch gave the best answer I have ever heard from an artist trying to describe their work, perhaps with the exception of Duane Michaels. He said “you saw it. You just saw it.”
Which brings me to the cover of Sound Of Music. Is it art? Yes it is art. I’ve been asked numerous times what it means and have even heard a friend say; “It looks like a blob of white with some circles.” Yes, it is a blob of white with some circles. It’s also an X-ray of my father’s head, neck and shoulders taken just prior to his death overlaid by two opposing diagrams of black holes. Someone asked “do the two black holes represent the choice, upon death, between heaven and hell?” I have no answer for that question. In fact I would never have thought that question. But maybe, just maybe, that is the very gap that Duchamp speaks of.
I make art. My entire life is consumed by art in one way or another. Most all my friends are artists. I make art because that’s the world I wish to inhabit. And it’s never been easy. I remember my father, who was a minister, said that I believed too much in the human endeavor and was wanting in spiritual aspects. Later in life he changed his assessment and saw within me a different kind of spirituality than his own. But I never disagreed with him. Yes, I do believe in the human struggle which may not seem lofty in principle compared to religious salvation. Even the tiniest of human artistic acts, like the red hand prints on rocks in caves from thousands of years ago when the only shelter we had was a cold, dark cave, mean as much to me as the collected writings of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Because there, on that day, thousands and thousands of years ago, barely clad in some animal skin, and probably very hungry, a human being imprinted his/her hand onto a rock that boldly and blatantly said “I am here. I exist.” And thousands of years later I can see that handprint and say “Yes, I see your handprint and I am here and I am you.” That is the nature of art.
We’re almost done. Almost home. It was Twyla Tharp that said, “art is the only way to run away without leaving home.” Well, we’re on the home stretch now. Again, I want to thank everyone that’s written or spoken to me saying how much they enjoyed these updates. It makes me think that everything, and I mean everything, has a story. Even this little album of ours. I will leave you with this very short excerpt from my film Here Comes Everybody. This film is a "dream of western history." The small excerpt linked below groups together the Marilyn Monroe, Socrates, and Brynhild sections, where the child narrator implores us all to tell our own story.
Till next time,
Richard