Artist/writer Susanna Bluhm asks on her blog Getting to Know You Better why writing is the introduction we all have to one another, rather than our art. Because this is Seattle, and writing is safe. We can gauge one another before we meet to say "ah, you won't hurt me." We're tender shoots and flowers in the Northwest, a precarious balance of loud and soft.
And have you ever tried to approach artists during a First Thursday art walk? It's not impossible, but it can be discouraging. Not that it's stopped any of us, but I'm sure we can all recount a time we approached a hosting artist and turned away with the thought "perhaps next time."
Writing about art is one way we can talk to each other on level ground. We're not social climbing here. We're getting a point across, and we're reaching for feedback. The problem is we've been doing it in solitary confinement. However, the last Klatch held by Scott Lawrimore this past Tuesday showed us all how much we want to talk to each other -- and to the rest of the world as well.
Emily Pothast and Joey Veltkamp regularly contribute to this conversation. We read them because they're not critics, because they're actually artists talking about art on the level we see it. That is to say, art as life. They talk about art in a keenly observant but approachable manner. We get what they're aiming at.
It's not that Jen Graves doesn't; she does quite often. But despite her eloquence and focus on some profoundly amazing art, her approach isn't the sort one takes unless they're entrenched. Perhaps this is a testament to the success of Regina Hackett's blogging career; like her or not you have to admire the finesse in which she distributes her criticism. It's on the table, just the way you like it, no bones about it.
The fundamental point of what these writers have in common is dynamic conversation, a volley of thoughts and ideas. Back and forth. You and me. As Jen challenges us to comment more frequently on her blog, she turns the conversation over to our corner and says, "now you." And so now us.
As always, we'll be careful what we ask for. If any of us in Seattle have anything to do with it, we'll get it in spades.
propelled mobilisation begins with the simple motion of a lever, applied acutely
5 comments:
Sharon,
As a transplant from the South and a working artist since 1990 (and a member of Cornish's 2009 class) I've been following your blog and that of some of your cohorts (Joey and Emily in particular) with considerable interest. I'm responding to this older post and hoping you'll catch it, because I'm interested in joining the fray. I'm a bit old to be classified as a "tender shoot", but that same age renders me a bit shyer than back in the day.
You can easily discover the skinny on me via Livejournal and my website link therein.
Regards,
Michael Williamson
Welcome to the fray, Michael - I'm very glad to have you here!
Actually, I remember seeing you around at Cornish, and we also have in common a mutual friend.
I was just composing an off-shoot to this post to talk about including more people in discussions of art, and I hope you feel comfortable enough to comment here often.
I sppreciate it, Sharon, and look forward to more dialogue. Right now I'm overhauling my space and getting things in order post-Cornish and pre-Goddard. As you noted in another post one can't function in a critical vacuum. It'd also, I think, be most interesting to discuss our experiences regarding the interface of education and making work.
Though I have a feeling who our mutual friend is, if you'd be so kind as to refresh the link you supplied and make it functional. Thanks again.
Oh huh, that's funny the link is broken - ah well, it's no secret; our mutual friend is Marie Gagnon.
What's funnier than a broken link is the phenomenal absent-mindedness on my part, that I would fail to make the connection. Of course.
Post a Comment