the fresh air school

MFA Thesis Exhibitchin': check

2011-05-11T19:48:00.000-07:00

the artistic constraints of my father

2011-01-10T14:38:00.001-08:00

home on the new england coast for the holidays!

2010-12-20T14:22:00.000-08:00

an attempt at getting my hands dirty

2010-12-02T17:18:00.000-08:00

I have been at odds with, and seeking an antidote to the precious-ification (if any of my wordsmith friends out there know a real word that means this, please let me know) of the natural world in a new way since moving to Portland last year. This region is filled with true appreciators, adventurers, environmentalists, and so on. But there is also a very prevalent aesthetic in the depiction of the natural world specific to this region (and more widespread, but it's endemic here) that makes me absolutely recoil. When I first arrived here and started to see it everywhere I looked, it had a huge effect on my own practice. I was making work that, outside of this context, felt genuine, and exciting to me. In this new context, it suddenly felt completely cliche and flat. I came to a screeching halt with the series that got me into graduate school. I shoved it into the darkness of my portfolio. The work I made thereafter was stark, and described to me by some as "academic" or "specimen-like". In many ways, this aesthetic fell in line with my conceptual path, but part of this jump was absolutely a response to this place. I was reacting against the contemporary picturesque. I felt vehemently against it. I've spent my time since then working on articulating why.

Historically, the idea of the picturesque allowed for the artificial composition of landscapes for the sake of including those qualities of nature that best emphasized its untamed, wild beauty. Whether the natural features all truthfully existed within one picture plane or not was thought to be less important. The unintended consequence of the picturesque, as described by Malcolm Andrews in Landscape and Western Art, is that “The Picturesque view of nature is one that appreciates landscape in so far as it resembles known works of art.” One does not have to think hard to see the harm such attitudes could have on the preservation of actual nature – if it does not resemble a grand landscape painting, is it worth preserving? Is the true value of nature merely in appearance? To make nature precious is to put it at grave risk. While I believe the Romantic and Naturalist artists and writers' motivations to preserve nature were authentic, I see problems in the way their words and treatments perhaps unintentionally perpetuate nature as decoration, and as commodity. The Contemporary Picturesque can be just as vapid.

The reality of nature is not accurately depicted or experienced when one's interaction with it is heavily mediated. We want to be outside, we want to be off in the woods, but we don't want the violence. We don't want the danger. We bring mountain goats into Olympic National Park (perhaps to make it look more like the picture in our head of rugged western mountain scenes), and then when one fatally attacks a hiker, for the first time since their introduction to the park in the 1920s, the public outcry includes calls for their removal and/or complete elimination. This trend can be traced back to the development of pastoral living as an upper-class privilege. The manner in which the new class of rural residents integrated themselves into the countryside was problematic. While many claims were made of this more pure, natural lifestyle, it was an extremely mediated existence. The residents of Villas were incredibly selective with their interactions with the natural world, using their gardens and lawns as buffers or transition zones between the home and the wild. One might argue that the level of mediation negated the entire claim of a more natural lifestyle.

At the risk of stepping out of my academic, specimen-like zone, I will say that this is a conflict that really tugs at the core of my being. We all want to try to be a part of something, and do it all the way. Often, that is dangerous, and we have to risk parts of ourselves, emotionally, physically...therefor, often we are selective with our leaps. How high we will leap from. What ground we will trust to leap upon. Jarring loose parts of ourselves that we prefer to leave uninspected in the shadows. Those who leap without abandon make us defensive and anxious. Those people are less afraid than us, and it highlights our fear.

I had a moment on the train this summer looking through a dirty glass window at a stretch of rich brown soil, and I knew if I could just step off the train for a moment, and push my hands wrist deep into the dirt, I would remember it forever [perhaps I will anyway, because the desire itself was so strong], and that my experience would be much more whole. If I had been able to do that, I would probably be able to tell you what the light was like, if it was warm out, if there was a breeze, and if there was a breeze, what did it smell like. My experience would have transcended the cerebral relationship to the dirt that I was limited to that day. Because really, who wants a cerebral relationship to dirt? I remember more about the subsequent day in the mountains when I was stung by a scorpion.

In some new drawings, I am working on ways to visualize this conflict. Everyone knows that animals can be violent, and some would argue (though I might disagree) that their behaviors are entirely instinctually motivated. That which sets us apart from them, in part, is our higher consciousness. I am very interested in the real psychology, as well as the mythology of nature's effect on the human psyche, as far as bringing out our more animalistic qualities. I want to confront that violence, in a broader sense. I can't help but to intellectualize it. Nevertheless, it is visceral. As difficult as it can be to digest on that visceral level, it is completely whole, and unmediated. It can shake us out of our domesticity of the mind. It may be what is most feared in our animal selves, but what better way to remind someone of that part of us which has tremendous value, than to take it to the extreme? Isn't that a valid and effective way to learn something deeply? To be confronted with that which is uncomfortable.

Obligatory Presentation Post

2010-11-21T13:52:00.000-08:00

I don't expect anyone to be able to garner much from the visual aspects of my presentation without my words, and I simply don't know how to post a PDF on a blog.

So.

I suppose the most helpful thing you could do for me, dear audience, is to watch my video in its entirety. I warn you, it is 15 minutes long, so of course I will only be able to show a clip during my presentation.

You can find it 3 posts down from this one. It is entitled "Across the Country in 15 Minutes".

As far as questions, I'd really rather not pose any. It doesn't feel realistic, and coming up some some would be forced. I'd rather leave it open, and simply take in your reactions to the work. Just as it would be out there in the "real world".

Forgive my slight insubordination in this matter.

Good day.

Anecdote of the Jar

2010-11-18T13:26:00.000-08:00

Anecdote of the Jar

Wallace Stevens

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion every where.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

two letters to lonely men who live in trailers in the mountains

2010-11-17T14:18:00.000-08:00

across the country in 15 minutes

2010-11-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

Across the Country in 15 Minutes from jillian vento on Vimeo.

this video piece is a manifestation of a trip i took this summer, in which i traversed the united states over a one month period via trains. in this edited format, i tried to capture the slow transition of the landscape, from east to west, along a southern route. i am also quite interested in the conflict between the engagement and indifference of the train passengers pertaining to that which was passing through our window views at any given time. often, bits of dialogue take on a new meaning and level of interest when taken out of context. here, i think the context is precisely what makes the words so interesting, regardless of their level of connection to the passing landscape. the context is inextricable.

[note: there are still some edits to be made, for example, the obvious incongruity of the title with the actual duration of the video. this will be fixed. i am also still open to some further manipulation, but for now, i want to get this version out there and ready for feedback, as it is very closed to resolved for me. feedback welcomed and encouraged.]

worms, white noise, and so on

2010-10-22T18:45:00.000-07:00

so i suppose i should get this blog going again. here goes.

i overwhelmed myself this summer with source material, and have perhaps doomed myself as a result. going into my second year, i should maybe feel a bit more streamlined, conceptually. focused. but this summer, i opened up an existential can of worms...or maybe i would rather arrange that phrase as can of existential worms. yes. i would. it is taking some serious time and reflection to sift through it all.

and speaking of worms. i started the new academic year off with an experiment in installation. worms were only implied, and not actually present. maybe that's what it was missing. i don't think the piece was a success, but it is a new mode of working for me, and one i assembled very instinctively, which is not something i often allow myself to do. in that regard, it felt very good. i have no images because i broke my camera at the coast again.

i am re-reading one of my favorite books - don delillo's white noise. i cited this book in last year's "personal canon" paper written for a theory class as an influential piece of work. i think of it as a particularly first-rate example of the aestheticization (this should be a word) of death, among other things. speaking of aesthetics, i love this first edition cover design. typical.

last year, in late summer upon first moving to portland, i did something similar. i passed up my modest pile of books-i-own-but-have-yet-to-read to re-read an old stand-by. wow, that was a lot of hyphens...sorry.

and now, instead of drawing, i am reading interviews with, and academic analyses of delillo's work.

i HAVE been doing some work, contrary to the tone of this post. sometimes i get into a place where the source gathering feels equally, if not more satisfying than the production. i am in a grey area between the two places, currently. here's a quick low-quality cell phone shot of a sample of said work...or rather re-work:

in recycling and reworking past pieces, they have a way of feeling brand new, once i decide how to actually resolve them. even if it does take almost a year. yeah...i'm one of those.

2010-06-21T23:30:00.000-07:00

self-taught filmmaker and haircutter, Brent Green

2010-05-25T19:04:00.000-07:00

gravity was everywhere back then, trailer

just came across this fella today...brent green. watch that trailer!

it's been pointed out to me that i have recently gotten really into people recreating houses and/or sheds. so i have, haven't i?

i'll be spending some more time on that there website, for sure.

what do people really want?

2010-05-22T16:39:00.000-07:00

cat on a cool shingled roof

2010-05-21T13:10:00.000-07:00

animals in gutterz

2010-04-30T16:48:00.000-07:00

some quotes on drawing and studio practice from william kentridge

2010-04-27T12:11:00.000-07:00

i went to the kentridge show at moma while in nyc this past week. it was pretty epic, and i feel like i gained a lot from seeing it. i'm still sort of processing what it means to have seen that show, and the marina abramovic show in the same building, on the same day, with the same eyes. more on that later.

"I believe that in the indeterminacy of drawing - the contingent way that images arrive in the work - lies some kind of model of how we live our lives. The activity of drawing is a way of trying to understand who we are and how we operate in the world."

"Walking, thinking, stalking the image. Many of the hours spent in the studio are hours of walking, pacing back and forth across the space gathering the energy, the clarity to make the first mark...It is as if before the work can begin (the visible finished work of the drawing, film, or sculpture), a different, invisible work must be done."

all dialogue from gus van sant's Gerry

2010-04-27T11:51:00.000-07:00

new duds

2010-04-08T14:41:00.001-07:00

i just wanted to show everyone that i got a new backpack.

what a view!

2010-04-06T16:47:00.000-07:00

i noticed this across the street from the art building, behind the law offices by the max turnaround. looks like they were offended by their view of a concrete slab of wall, so they painted this green jungle scene or some such, just large enough to cover the peripheral view from the window. awesome. they must really feel like they work in a scenic place now.

more museum museum work

2010-03-02T00:44:00.000-08:00

Over on the Museum Museum blog, I have just posted some brief explorations of the artist Coco Fusco, in relation to the work she has done that I see as pertinent to the course content. I am glad to have had this reason to investigate, as she is an incredibly intelligent and pointed living artist.

Have a look-see if you are inclined.

I also sent her an email, and although the chances of a response are most likely slim, I find myself hard pressed NOT to email an artist I care about when handed their email address.

postcard

2010-02-15T17:56:00.000-08:00

Another [altered] postcard to Mark Dion.

museum museum

2010-02-12T18:45:00.000-08:00

Rather than post it twice, I will simply link you to my account of my recent visit to the Oregon Maritime Museum. I chose to visit this particular institution as part of an assignment for the museum studies course I am taking. This is the class blog:

http://psumuseummuseum.blogspot.com/

but in the end it is a love story.

2010-02-12T18:02:00.000-08:00

Dirty Projectors are one of my favorite bands, and this letter was written by the front man of the band, Dave Longstreth, in 2005. I love this, because as much as it can be viewed as simply a letter addressed to Don Henley, it's much more than that - it is an artwork in and of itself. An accompaniment to The Getty Address, the album it speaks of. I see this letter as a part of that "series". If those songs were hung on gallery walls, I would hope this letter would be up on those walls with them.

I think this letter fits well into that grey area between an "artwork" and an "artist statement". A hybrid. Where the words are not just an explanation of what you are looking at, or in this case listening to. But they stand on their own as an important creation.

best documentation of my current work in progress

2010-02-04T12:52:00.000-08:00

pessimism is complicated

2010-02-04T12:49:00.000-08:00

Lexa asked me to send her this quote. I got carried away. Good thing I don't have Photoshop anymore.

what it has come to

2010-02-01T13:53:00.000-08:00

http://portland.craigslist.org/mlt/wan/1581281300.html

the best times are maritimes!

2010-01-31T18:58:00.000-08:00

today i went to the oregon maritime museum, which floats in the willamette river between the morrison and burnside bridges. it is a steam powered tug boat built in 1947. this visit was prompted by the 'museum museum' class i am taking this term and next, being guided via satellite/speaker phone/postcard by mark dion. mark is an artist i have admired for years, so this is all very exciting of course.

anyway.

i am glad for acts like this one, prompted by being in this graduate program. it falls in the category of something-i-could-do-any-old-time-on-my-own, but if not for being in this program right now, probably-would-not. it's a very ambiguous category, as you may have gleaned. but one very dear to me.

i chose this museum, of many, for a few reasons. my main reason being my most gut reaction: i love the sea. i grew up on the ocean, and i FULLY romanticize it in every possible way. just hearing the word "maritime" hooked me (get it? hooked..?).

i also chose it because i have less experience in museums like these...those that focus on a very particular subject matter that is not art. i had a feeling that it would be a fruitful experience, personally, and i was right. for instance, i have never spent 3 hours enjoying conversation with a volunteer docent at MOMA, that is for damn sure. [charlie haughey is a swell guy. and very insightful.]

i took many photos, and when my memory card filled up, i took some with my cell phone, and even one with a disposable camera (that one got me some looks). i will probably write an illustrated entry about my visit, more in depth, when i upload them all.

for now, here is sam. the most inquisitive small child i have ever encountered. he is pictured here employing the sonic powers of one of the ships many variations of whistles.

a "sketch book" post

2010-01-28T18:29:00.000-08:00

Ursus arctos horribilis and Timothy Treadwell

2010-01-28T18:15:00.000-08:00

graphite on paper

altered postcards

2010-01-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

my most recent postcard to mark dion. altered with acrylic paint.
[i wonder how much of it will chip off in transit?]

this one might be better for that experiment, considering i covered MOST of the map with the paint, leaving just the borders and the oregon trail itself.

after these, i'm moving on from the geographically themed postcards. what a world there is out there.

this is sadly all i have time to write right now. expect a much better blog entry soon.

closer to higher power when flying on airplane?

2009-12-17T15:40:00.000-08:00

Just recently, I was discussing with someone the death of the "wrong number" phenomenon. Our various electronic devices are programmed to pretty much eliminate the chance of dialing or receiving a wrong number, except for the rarest of situations. In a way, it makes me sad. Wrong numbers never annoyed me, and it was a nice reminder that people outside of my own personal sphere still existed. I'd often let my imagination wander in my interpretation of who the caller might be.

So by some bizarre chance, about a week after said conversation, I received a "wrong number" email. What a rare bird! The title of this post was taken from the subject line of said email. I think this might actually be my first, and at first glance I thought it was spam that snuck through my filter. But it seemed so personal, and there was no poisonous attachments, or links, or religious suggestions. I wrote back to confirm whether it was a real person or not. I received a response.

"hmmm, odd. maybe my friend's address is the same as yours but at yahoo or hotmail or something."

Yes!

So obviously, my goal is now to start a dialogue with this person. She shared some pretty personal things in her accidental first email, so I feel like this might be fertile ground. The doors have been opened!

Not sure where I am going with this. But so far, I'm pretty interested in the possible outcomes. Perhaps I am bored because school is over for the term. But perhaps more will come of it than I think. At least in the form of my own musings. That is almost guaranteed.

getting back to nature

2009-12-10T17:48:00.000-08:00

this is one of the drawings i completed during fall term. it might be a one-liner...i'm not sure yet. i'll think on it.

pretend you don't see the clips on the corners. i have to do some more serious photographing of new work.

and so it begins

2009-11-18T16:55:00.001-08:00

an obvious post

2009-11-16T15:38:00.000-08:00

i'm in the midst of learning an important lesson in art making: mail order is completely unreliable...buy local at all costs!

unfortunately, i was not able to find what i wanted locally, so i am a victim of back orders and slow shipping. what i thought would be some end of the term fall projects are going to end up being beginning of the term winter projects. alas.

i've been doing so much research and reading, but i also feel the need to be DOING. so i have started some drawings as pretty immediate interpretations of what i've been thinking about. the result of just diving in is perhaps that the content of the work is a bit "obvious". but work begets work, especially for me. tell me, dear reader, do you believe that obviousness is automatically negative? i don't think i do, but it merits more thought. it reminds me of the video that lori posted, of david foster wallace talking about fluff words.

here are somethigns i have been thinking about and/or researching:
-english gardens/versailles/history of house plants
-democratizing art
-beauty
-novelty nature
-a quick phone conversation from 6:31pm-6:55pm about chaos theory
-laurel nakadate's discription of her work as "hilariously sad"
-"people want relationships to be everything or nothing...but in between, there's a lot" -laurel nakadate
-the benefits of limitations
-the willing suspension of disbelief
-ghettoization

i also moved this weekend, so that destroyed my studio time. i still have no images to post as a result of my still broken digital camera. i also no longer have internet at home, so i find my entertainment from raccoons peeking into my windows at night.

a stormy brain

2009-11-08T23:54:00.000-08:00

i've been trying to do some big time deconstruction of my ideas in hopes of better understanding their roots, and my motivations. filling pages of notebooks, putting them down for a few days, and coming back to them with fresh eyes. drawing web graphs in hopes of connections revealing themselves to me as i work through them.

i recently watched the documentary about r. crumb, and he made a simple statement that i really related to. he said "i don't work in terms of conscious messages. i can't do that. it has to be something that i'm revealing to myself while i'm doing it". now i differ a bit in that i do start off with an idea of the message, but i purposely begin a piece before i have the entire message completely fleshed out. i relate to crumb in how the learning occurs for me during the process of making.

i've had a good amount of studio visits and critiques by now, and more than once, i have received the comment that i have strong drawing skills, followed by an implication that perhaps i shouldn't automatically rely on them. i could be reading that into it actually, but nonetheless it is something i have come to think about. is drawing necessarily the best way for me to convey my ideas? it is something i believe i will always do, but is it a requirement for every piece? i'm thinking more about the ways i could work outside of drawing, and most likely after some experimentation "out there", i will find a way to bring the two ends of the spectrum to some balanced middle ground.

i have some ideas for some sculptural, photographic, and installational works. i also have thoughts on pieces that focus on the collection of information or dialogue, but haven't figured out how i could exhibit my results. for those ideas, i almost think of the experience itself as the piece, but of course if i wish to communicate it to an audience, i have to formulate that aspect.

this is a pretty vague entry. perhaps i am finding that i am uncomfortable speaking too much about my ideas in a public forum until they are under some manner of execution. i will say that one of the web graphs i drew today started out with the concept of overpopulation among deer and humans, and that some of the outer circles of the graph ended up with subjects such as faux bois, human denial of animal instincts, modern illusion of nature, and wallpaper. i assure you that the middle parts of the chart are completely fascinating as well.

at first, the various ideas i've been coming up with have felt pretty disparate, but i am beginning to see that they share a common theme, which has revealed itself to be Control...or Loss Of Control (i capitalized to show how important it is...of course). there are separate intricacies to each idea, and i am more than okay with that, but i still feel very compelled to seek a connection sometimes.

2009-11-05T21:02:00.000-08:00

"Works of art have to be free enough in the culture to sustain reinterpretation over the years, and they have to continue to happen, and that's very difficult."

sing it, dave hickey

an email

2009-10-24T18:22:00.000-07:00

coming soon to a studio near you...

2009-10-24T16:55:00.000-07:00

Stephen Pat Brown

2009-10-24T16:27:00.001-07:00

The above portrait was done by a former classmate of mine at the Hartford Art School, Mary Anne McCarthy. The drawing is of Stephen Brown, a painting professor at HAS. Stephen passed away a few days ago.

I owe this man a lot. I never even had a formal class with him, but he was the person who originally reviewed my portfolio for admission, and accepted me into the school, effectively changing the entire course of my life. Ever since that, we had a very friendly, fulfilling, sarcastic, snarky relationship. Stopping to speak in the halls, dropping into his classes, fielding his prank calls at the front art office. I signed up for a class with him at one point, and he was unfortunately unable to teach that semester because of his illness.The next time I saw him back at school after that, he came over and hugged me. We sat in his office and talked for a long time about his recent incidents of cheating death. He could switch from a cocky "Do you know who I AM?" to completely tender and thoughtful at the drop of a hat, and I loved that about him.

I remember that portfolio review vividly. I had never received much helpful or constructive criticism before. I went in there, opened up the portfolio, and watched in horror as this towering man in a Red Sox hat flipped through my drawings one by one, telling me what was wrong with each of them. I wondered why he insisted on going through the whole stack, given that it was obvious, I thought, that he hated them and that I was going to be rejected. At the end, he stopped, and looked me right in the eye and said "Two weeks in a class with me and all of that will be fixed". He told me that I had talent, and he told me I was accepted into the school. I nearly fell over. I was still reeling as he talked to my mother about my issues with value scale and composition as she intimidatedly nodded along as if she knew what any of that meant.

Stephen is one of the people that inspires me to someday teach. In the days since the news of his death has spread, I am seeing an epic outpouring of love, anecdotes, and time and time again hearing the phrase "He changed my life" and the thing is, I believe it. I really do. I am so sad that I can't be back east for his services.

Stephen's work is nothing like mine. But his passion for what he did was contagious and he knew how to spread that in a very universal way. When I teach someday, I hope I can have even half the effect that Stephen had on those that passed through his studios.

I also really wish I got to be in one of those classes that he brought outside to play kickball and piss off all the students still stuck inside painting.

can you see me, deer?

2009-10-18T13:53:00.000-07:00

I recently had an idea to work with a scientifically developed camouflage that was specifically designed after extensive vision testing on deer. Supposedly the design is nearly undetecable to their eyes (which are actually poorer than ours, I've learned), to give hunters an edge. In my reading, I found some interesting asides, such as the prediction that hunters would snub this new camo based on the FASHION of hunting gear, and their traditionalist sensibilities, despite it perhaps being more practical.

Anyway, this was a New York Times article, and so of course there were about 8 pages of comments that I KNEW would unravel into a moral war about hunting, rather than much discussion on the actual topic. Call me masochistic, but I couldn't resist reading them, even though typically internet comments and feuds make me furious.

What I concluded about 6 pages into the comments was that I actually do not know enough about hunting to even dare to make any artistically depicted judgements on it. The pissed off conservatives were right about that. My plan was not necessarily to comdemn hunting anyway, but more to highlight the absurd interference of technology on nature. But it's a very loaded subject, and a slippery slope. I think I'll let it stew for longer before I do anything with it.

Here is the article, if anyone is interested. It truly is bizarre to me. And here is the accompanying NYT Blog entry that inspired the pages and pages of arguments.

Line Economy, and Leonie Guyer

2009-10-11T18:58:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about image making lately. Being in this program at PSU where half the students are working under the umbrella of Social Practice, where the other half are in Studio Practice, I have wondered a lot about the line that divides one from the other. One of the MOST refreshing things about the program is that the line is not given a tremendous amount of importance, and students from both sides seem to take on elements of both.

But long before I entered into this program, I wondered about my role as an artist that produces "things". Some artists perform, some make digital work that can be contained in a tiny chip, etc. But I continue to feel compelled to make actual objects. I wouldn't say I do so completely confidently, but I have, over the past 2 years, started to find ways to reconcile this insecurity in a world, and a personal sphere, that has plenty of stuff in it as it is. I have begun drawing on paper. I have begun to be super economical with my picture plane and my mark making. Less is more. This feels like a more natural way of working for me.

This past Monday, Leonie Guyer was our visiting artist, and she did address some of these issues in her lecture, and during our post-lecture visit with her. Leonie does mostly installation/site responsive drawings these days. Her forms are abstract, and I would say that one of her most powerful tools is negative space. These tiny little forms that she draws on vast white walls are sometimes indiscernible upon first glance. She spoke of working reductively as being a panic attack of constantly asking herself "Is this enough?". She sees this as a response to living in a culture in which things of value are always BIGGER and MORE. As she put it, "It takes courage to do less".

This resonated with me, but had me wondering how the same sentiment might apply to working more representationally. Is it more forgivable for Leonie's abstract, unearthly shapes to be floating in vast space because as it is, they are not recognizable forms that our brain wants to put into a particular space anyway? What happens when I draw recognizable images that are in this vast space, where the viewer's brain DOES immediately have a place it wants to put the form, and yet the place is not all there?

I am working on some of my most stark work yet, perhaps as an experiment in this very question. [I am unable to post any of it here, Dear Reader, until I find the USB cord for my digitial camera. My apologies, as I know this would be much more interesting with visuals]. I am eager, if not a bit trepidatious, to hear how my classmates and professors respond to it. I have thought about the power of negative space, and my own economy of line for some years now, but perhaps it will not ever feel completely resolved. Perhaps there are just separate schools of thought, and I have to concede that you "can't please everybody". But if there is more work to be done to hone this sort of practice, I'm very willing to listen.

Michelle Blade

Josh Keyes

Felix Gonzalez-Torres

Artist as Student

2009-10-03T14:20:00.000-07:00

I am very interested in the various philosophies and methods of teaching, and learning. I think it is important to include the "learning" part of that statement. When I read articles, or listen to lectures about the state of teaching in the contemporary world, that is how I apply it to myself. Someday I hope to teach, yes. But currently I am a student. Beyond this MFA program at PSU. I believe I will perpetually be a student of one thing or another.

I recently read the transcript of a speech entitled "Why Schools Don't Educate" given by John Taylor Gatto in 1989 when he won New York City's teacher of the year. Perhaps it speaks to Gatto's incredible insights and experience that I didn't realize until later that this speech was 20 years old, or perhaps it is sounding an alarm that not much seems to have changed. The reason the speech intrigued me so much was because of how universal the problems are that he spoke of (and to think this is even all BEFORE the phenomenon of the internet becoming what it is now!) They are by no means exclusive to the classroom. I think many of the issues he spoke of apply to our general interactions with one another, how we carry ourselves as people in the world, and definitely how we as artists balance learning from each other with staying loyal to who we are as individuals and cultivating that to the extent that it deserves to be cultivated.

I certainly don't agree with all of his arguments entirely, for instance I think some of his views on the influence of the nuclear family are a bit narrow for sure. Although I do think the idea of family is important, I also believe that it can be interpreted and constructed in any number of ways beyond what he seems to emphasize here. [I also don't think that "casual sex" is killing us as a nation, either. Oh brother]. But if you do read the article, dear blog reader, bear with him through those parts.

Since I know not everyone will endeavor to read this three page transcript, I will put some excerpts here that stood out to me. As I step back into this world of academia, this article is my most recent influence, and what has been echoing most in my head lately.

Children and old people are penned up and locked away from the business of the world to an unprecedented degree; nobody talks to them anymore. Without children and old people mixing in daily life, a community has no future and no past, only a continuous present. In fact, the term “community” hardly applies to the way we interact with each other. We live in networks, not communities, and everyone I know is lonely because of that.

What does it say that many of his arguments are specifically about early education, but that I find them as compelling reasons for why I decided to enroll in a Masters of Fine Arts program? Hmm..

It is absurd and anti-life to be part of a system that compels you to sit in confinement with only people of exactly the same age and social class. The system effectively cuts you off from the immense diversity of life and the synergy of variety. It cuts you off from your own past and future, sealing you in a continuous present, much the same way television does.

Perhaps I am attending in part as a rebellion against my own childhood education? To begin now, as I believe it is never too late, to do what I should have been doing my whole life?

In centuries past, the time of a child or adolescent would be occupied in real work, real charity, real adventure, and the real search for mentors who might teach what he or she really wanted to learn. A great deal of time was spent in community pursuits, practicing affection, meeting and studying every level of the community

The following quote is particularly frightening to think about NOW, considering how what he said here 20 years ago has only been exacerbated by online social networks, in my opinion. People are more terrified of face to face intimacy than ever before because of their reliance on this. I strive to not become a victim of this myself, but admittedly do not always succeed:

The children I teach are uneasy with intimacy or candor. They cannot deal with genuine intimacy because of a lifelong habit of preserving a secret self inside an outer personality made up of artificial bits and pieces of behavior borrowed from television

We do WANT it, don't we? I mean, I am sitting in a coffee shop writing this, and a very little girl just walked in with her parents and is freely saying hello to everyone, and everyone is noticeably uplifted by the presence of this little girl. Everyone is glad to get a hello from her, and I think we all envy her lack in inhibition in communicating.

I particularly like all that this next quote implies, or can be applied to as an artist. It makes me think of the issues we spoke of in Dan Attoe's class, about going outside of your normal realm to make yourself a more rounded person, and thereby a better artist. Here, Gatto is speaking of a more ideal educational philosophy used in Europe for thousands of years:

Everywhere in this system, at every age, you will find arrangements that place the child alone in an unguided setting with a problem to solve. Sometimes the problem is fraught with great risks, such as the problem of getting a horse to gallop or making it jump. But that, of course, is a problem successfully solved by thousands of elite children before the age of ten. Can you imagine anyone who has mastered such a challenge ever lacking confidence in his or her ability to do anything? Sometimes the problem is that of mastering solitude, as Thoreau did at Walden Pond, or Einstein did in the Swiss customshouse.

So yes, after reading this, of COURSE I voted to go surfing for the first time in the Pacific Ocean in November.