June 9, 2016
I remember childhood summers spent at the North Sea in Holland, mixing buckets of sand and water in just the right proportion to drip the mud through my fist, forming what looked like little pine trees. It was a visceral pleasure to grab and release that viscous mix onto the beach. When I look at a Jackson Pollock painting I often wish I could return to that state, using my hands with thick paint instead of mud.
Another favorite activity was raking patterns into the wet sand close to the waves, with expansive sweeps and twirls, running, freeing your body from the constrained movements urged on girls in polite company. I can almost feel my arm swinging again when looking at a Phillip Guston painting, a kinetic experience.
I wonder if the attraction of abstract art which allows not to think about “meaning,” for some of us, then, is the ability to re-live an experiential state. Art critic Harold Rosenberg claimed that painting for Pollock and other abstract expressionists was an event, the meeting with paint an encounter. Perhaps their paintings creates echoes of action rather than cognition in our perceptions, an emotional memory of earlier, freer times. In addition, some neuroscientists suggest that our brains have mirror neurons, which would show activation mirroring the movements of the painters when creating the work. These elusive neurons are a hotly debated topic across perception research; I, for one, still need convincing.
http://www.wired.com/2013/12/a-calm-look-at-the-most-hyped-concept-in-neuroscience-mirror-neurons/
And yet the very idea that a child could paint an abstract masterwork, or that those famous artists had reverted to a more child-like mode, has people question the validity of the art. The best example of this was an affair some ten years ago around a 4 year old child prodigy, Marla Olmstead. Taking the art world by storm with her abstract paintings and making big money, 60 Minutes eventually questioned her abilities and declared she had grown-up help, parents who enabled fraud. A subsequent documentary by Amir Bar Lev installed hidden cameras to catch her in the act, and discussed the media frenzy around it all, itself becoming some sort of exploitation. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j46V9wclBaw (The entire film is also available on youtube).
People were obsessed with finding out “the truth” – to what end? Would a child’s ability to create an abstract master work, devoid of cynicism, painted in child-like naiveté, really void the accomplishment of adults’ paintings? Is the very assumption that that might be possible an acceptable reason that so many people dismiss abstractionism? I’ll continue to explore this tomorrow.
Martha Ullman West
I have been reading your “abstract” posts with some interest on several grounds, Friderike. I will tell you what my father said about Jackson Pollock’s abstract expressionist paintings, and I think it’s important when discussing him to add the word expressionist: “It’s all well and good to splatter your psyche on a canvas, providing you have an interesting psyche.” Perhaps this will resonate with you as a psychologist. We went together, Dad and I, to look at an exhibition of abstract expressionist paintings by a Buddhist monk, in the spring of 1961, when I was covering some 400 galleries on the upper east side of NY for a weekly newspaper long gone called Manhattan East. We both adored them. They were meditative with lovely clear colors, defied analysis, and that was the point.
Steve Tilden
This is a good discussion, Friderike. I have not studied abstract art very much, but I know when I see a piece that moves me. Pollock is OK, whereas Joan Mitchell strikes deeply. I was in a gallery once when a man came in, looked at a rather good abstract painting, and said, exactly, my kid could paint that. I wanted to ask him is he ever wrote, like a letter, or a report, or a story. If he said of course, I would say OK you can write, but can you write a great novel? Applying colored liquids to a surface are basic physical actions; applying them with the final effect of capturing some emotion, of moving the viewer, is not so simple. Elephant paintings sometimes seem to work, so maybe some elephants have something to say to us humans. I think there is an expanse between random and purposeful.
Lee Musgrave
This discussion brings to mind two research projects I recall from the 60s: in the first one several abstract paintings were replicated onto ceramic pots, displayed in exhibits and viewers were asked for their reactions to both… the general comments came down to “great ceramics, but the paintings are terrible”. In other words, people are willing to accept abstraction in some formats, but not in others.
The second project studied the average American home and determined that the overwhelming major of them had abstractions on their carpets, tiles, curtains, wall paper, sofa’s, towels, shirts and blouses. And yet, when these same home owners were asked if they ever brought abstract art, the majority said “absolutely not”. In other words, they were willing to wear a Mondrian on their back, but not hang one in their living room.
These kind of folks feel that abstraction is not appropriate for the high art of painting or sculpture, but its ok for textile crafts.
Think about all of the people you’ve ever seen walking on the beach who pick up a rock and admire it so much that they take it home with them and set it in an honored place just to be able to view it every day. They didn’t fall in love with a rock, they fell for its colors, textures, and shape… its “abstract” qualities. Many of those same individuals would never consider buying an abstract painting because they don’t have enough self-confidence to explain why they would spend money to own it (compared to a free rock).
friderikeheuer@gmail.com
All points well taken – I find it in the end more interesting why some people DO like abstract art than the others who don’t for the very obvious reasons laid out by you all – stay tuned when we discuss abstractionism and the brain on Friday….