Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Contradiction - The artist' definition.




Contradiction means many things to many people.  For me growing up, it meant what is a guaranteed thing to get you in trouble for doing to your parents. Especially, never contradict a parent in front of one of the other adults, that’ll get you prison time for sure.   Now, as a budding artist, well rather budding late life artist, it takes on a new meaning altogether.  Contradiction for the artist is merely taking a new class or workshop from a different teacher.  As the late bloomer that I am, I decided the definite way to catch up with the painters of my generation, is to take lots of classes from lots of different teachers, learning all different kinds of styles and techniques.  That ought to work, right?  Most of my colleagues fondly remising about the class they had with Old So in So, or how much more loose they paint now that they workshopped under Miss Lucy Goosey.  So, in my need for speed, I have now, in only a couple of years, studied long term under 5 different artist who hold class schedules and workshopped under half again as many.  

Recently a painting buddy, (see how loosely I use that term, because they actually pity me and try to help me by suggesting things way over my head and would hardly call me a buddy.)  I am a hip artist now ya know, so I play along and go with the group anyway I can.  Anyhow, recently this person invited me to join in a new class under a locally acclaimed teacher.  Of course, I am game.  It seems I am on the quest to exhaust all teachers locally so I can move on the big leagues and take from those master artist in the Artzy Fartzy places they congregate, (usually out west somewhere.)  In order to take in Artzy Fartzy lands, you need to have developed a skill or style of some kind or at least be a very good bluffer.  I digress...back to my story.  Today was the first day of this new class and boy do I feel befuddled.  Everything I have learned so far now may be a sham!  My brushes are not up to par, my paints are lacking, and medium is completely wrong.  The sad thing is that I think they are completely correct.  Yikes!  

Why is it that there are rules in life, yet in art specific rules are completely changed by the different leaders of the game?  In History, there are facts and facts are facts, yet each teacher I come across contradicts the previous lessons learned.  Here I am trying to convince myself how cool this is and my shrinking brain can't remember all I learn.  What was that?  Did you hear something?  Plink! Plink! That is the sound of my brain cells falling out of my head and bouncing on the floor.

More and more I am understanding just what drove Van Gogh to whack off the ear!  Since I don’t like blood, I may just have to start with a tuft of hair instead.  Oh the agony!