Bliss may be small in its manifestation and large in its effect. If one examines the drawings of the masters, one sees a quality of line that radiates the presence of bliss. This line quality is that of assurance, grace, truth and so - beauty. Without this quality of bliss there is no mastery. A knowing eye can see, smell, feel fear in the drawn line. Fear is the absence of bliss. Fear is the black hole to the radiant star of bliss. There are times when fear in art is compelling and it may be a driving force for remarkable and popular art but it is not a factor in the poetics of mastery. In mastery all fear has been translated into bliss. If a draughtsman misses the bliss, he must proceed to his bag of tricks to deliver a work worthy of sharing. If you miss the bliss in oil paint, then toil on the canvas may suffice. If you miss it in watercolor try again another day. A painting produced in a state of bliss allows room in its being for the full participation of an enlightened viewer. There are blank places, rest stops, easy places to enter the work, to share the joy. Paint speaks: “join me on a journey to a magic place, a stunning place, a vital, vibrant and powerful place.” Matisse invites you in, Turner invites you into his storms, Chardin invites you into his kitchens and dining rooms. Jasper Johns and Eric Fischl invite. Inferior art tries to seduce with vague or arcane concepts, hyperglycemic colors, crowded composition, over-worked technique – work that transmits of a fear of not pleasing an audience. Inferior painting reeks of the fear of failure. It is blah. Bliss allows you entry and takes you on a journey of delight. You share the bliss of the creator – the artist. Fear art is a one-trick pony, a one-note Johnny, a one night stand. It is worth a one minute perusal in a museum and can inspire reams of text. It is often over-sized. Inflated scale is the first trick of bliss gone south. The second trick is polish and shine. Knowing that the human touch will reveal you – erase the mark altogether, thus our Warhol induced, celebration of the machine-made object. See Murikami, Koons, Hirst: active masters of the assembly line. Although the bliss of the act of creation may be missing from this work, it is nonetheless conceptually rich and fun to look at. Russell Chatham’s postage stamp size watercolors carry more bliss-freight per square inch than even Turner’s late vapor. Blissful art attracts, blah art explodes in your eyes then bores you forever after, see Caravaggio.
#1 written by Joe February 23rd, 2010 at 16:04
Loving the writing, and the observation that “A knowing eye can see, smell, feel fear in the drawn line.” is every bit as true in my own little practice. Much of the photographic art is often described as technical, f-stops and shutter speeds and math after math aftermath. For me, really making a great photograph involves leaving this behind (or reallly, having this knowledge inside my reactions and habits to the point where it’s automatic, like driving), leaving fear behind, leaving everything behind so that all that’s left is the quiet and the bliss that already preexists in an amazing place. Once the mind is quiet enough that I can clearly hear the That-Which-Moves-Me, the rest is just follow-through, not standing in the way of the natural momentum that turns that seeing into pixels and paper.
#2 written by Joe February 23rd, 2010 at 16:05
ps: A different riff on the relationship of fear to art is Bayles and Orland’s little book “Art and Fear”. Sort of an introduction to dealing with and embracing the existence fear as an artist, particularly where fear intersects the non-art part of living as an artist. Brilliant little book.