I was fixing another professor’s computer, and he had the painting below on his office wall (about an 8-10′ canvas). It looks like it could be a Jackson Pollock, but it’s not. Or, that’s what the professor told me: he and his 10-year-old son regularly buy or construct canvases and then paint wondrous works such as this. I love it, either way.
I recall going to the MoMa as a kid for a school assignment: abstract paintings such as this befuddled me; i didn’t understand how randomness could be art, how seemingly “just throwing paint all over the place” could be so venerated and applauded, celebrated, and/or whatever other adjective one wants to use.
At the time, i preferred artwork that had a “purpose,” works that were calculated and detailed. I wanted to see artistry that had a “my name is” sign, that told a story, that had its meaning shown w/o much need for personal interpretation. I was used to things being easy, for me to understand them without deliberation, or being able to ask a question, receiving an answer. That was life to me. Why? And then given the answer.
Artwork celebrated as the ones at the exhibit were new to me.
I cannot remember the artist or the title of one such painting, one that told a back-story, as well as the present situation, but i recall one that was of a distorted apocalyptic scenario. I wish i knew the name or who of the canvas. I’m sure i have my old paper from whatever grade it was, but it’d have to be in my mother’s house, hiding in some crevice of my old room. Not something i feel like searching for.
Growing older, i came to appreciate all forms of artwork, understanding that each type or each piece is to be interpreted personally, each is to move (or not move) whomever’s viewing or experiencing. Seeing my mom’s various assignments and going to her shows and whatnot while she was earning her Parson’s degree definitely helped to expose me to all forms of artwork. From personal portraiture to self-sculpture, tetrahedrons, magenta and fashion, to jazz music and spoken word, as well as a love for Paris, looking back at it now, i truly understand how my artistic evolution was influenced by her and her schooling. Diversity of the mind.
Looking at the photo, i like the juxtaposition of the digital with the old school technology of paint and canvas. On the screen is art in the form of software; graphical user interfaces are both a science and a creativity that illicit emotions of either euphoria or angst at the difficulty of understanding how to use the program. Art and technology both can be soothing or jarring, of course in different ways, but that excitement in each, interests me.
The convoluted thoughts of the brain and the interconnected relationships of people in the world, to me, are both represented in this artwork. I love the color palette, as well. (You can click the image for a larger version of the canvas.)
I will have to check back with the professor in several years to see if he and his son craft anymore of these. If so, i wonder if they’ll ever be showcased in a gallery or for sale. Not everyone likes to sell parts of them, though. I wonder …
I shall just have to wait to see.
Thanks for reading.