"Living for something I can't even define"
One million plastic Lockheed Martin keychains, bobbing in the ocean
I often wander with students through the art gallery where I work and encourage them to ask questions and think about the artwork they’re looking at. Recently I read an artwork’s label and it moved me to tears yet also made me angry. Something about it seemed wrong, but when I thought about it later, that uncomfortableness was also what made it so powerful. Despite my anger, I thought to myself “this is why controversial art has an effect.” (The piece below is not the controversial piece I’m referencing to.)
Working in an art gallery has me thinking more than ever about what makes art valuable/good and to whom. A few weeks ago I attended a talk about determining objects’ and artworks’ significance in galleries and museums. “Significance” is a great word to describe it; something bigger and more important than money, although like art itself, significance varies from beholder to beholder. It is often subjective.
A conversation I easily get sucked into with friends comes back to art and why it matters, what it’s saying. Which matters more, the maker or the consumer? Is it more important to pursue art for the joy, the journey or the achievement? I could go on. My partner makes videos and he and I argue for hours about whether the commercial work he makes for companies is art or advertising. (That deep dive is for another day.)
One of my favorite song lyrics is by Ani DiFranco. She sings
“art is why I get up in the morning,
and my definition ends there,
you know it doesn’t seem fair
that I’m living for something I can’t even define.”
(Please read all the lyrics. They are so fucking good.)
Along with talking to kids in the gallery, this week I’m working hard to help make a big family-friendly street art festival happen in Newcastle, The Big Picture Fest. Back in 2019 on a street art tour in Bogota I learned about Bastardilla, a feminist artist who often paints with tools like toilet brushes to make a statement. She doesn’t take money from the businesses where she paint their walls, as it is more important for her to have control of the message. (An example of her work is on the last slide in the series of images below.)
And some street artists not only don’t get paid, they paint illegally. I contrast their strong political messaging with the street art commissioned by boutique shop owners who tend to be prefer pretty images, occasionally with a mildly political slant but never anything too risky. The intention is clear: tourists, stay an extra day looking around and spend more money in this beautiful city without any dark sides. I love spending my money on exploring new places, yet my thoughts linger on significance and creation with meaning.
Art doesn’t have to be political. Some “political” art seems try-hard and that’s the worst… political, people-pleasing art! That’s worse than one million replicated, plastic Lockheed Martin keychains, scattered across the ocean. I like art that stands for something, but only when it’s based on genuine beliefs, preferably well-thought-out ones. (Perhaps NOT like this Substack, ha.)
On Friday night my friend Sophie and I went to a lovely collage making-workshop where we let images and words from old books and magazines speak to us. Eventually artworks manifested onto blank page. Sophie is a designer and multiple people at the workshop commented on how good her collage was.
(Myself, on the other hand, drank several glasses of wine, ate lots of cheese and ran my mouth the whole time, smashing out a chaotic collage at the end.) Mine didn’t get as much praise, nor did I think it objectively should. It was fun, but it was not my best creation. Whatever, it’s the journey not the destination, amiright?
Alongside emotions, voice and the desire to speak, skill and talent matter too. Art is subjective but experience, knowledge and wisdom is not.
Creative intentions and their results are on my mind, but also subjective-ness, superfluous-ness, and maybe my own insignificance should be factored into it all. Do I judge art more because I haven’t pushed myself to create more? Fear of judgement can prevent people from ever picking up an instrument. Surely that’s just as sad as one million cheaply-produced Lockheed Martin keychains dissolving into the ocean.
I don’t know, readers. It’s been an arty last few weeks, but it’s also been a big last few weeks. Tell me if you disagree with me. Tell me if you even get my point.