Monday, November 06, 2006

Things I wish I'd seen...Notes on the Remote and the Invisible

I suppose it's maudlin to post about a show I couldn't get to, but I wanted to remark on the Tauba Auerbach show that just closed at Deitch. Or rather, I wanted to remark on the sadness I have for not seeing it. Sometimes you find out about these thigs too late, sometimes they're three thousand miles away. This looked like something I really should have seen...if only to make me feel stuck in my ways and unoriginal. Now and then, a kick in the pants like that is good thing. From the images on the Deitch site, one can see that Auerbach's work is playful with language, if not staggeringly original in its maneuvers or approach to the subject.

Perhaps because I’ve been reading thesis papers and thinking about influence and context a great deal, I feel rather without context these days. I read Steven Millhauser’s story, In the Reign of Harad IV, in a recent New Yorker a few days ago and it’s been haunting me. In it, the master miniaturist (I don’t pretend to that level of authority…) realizes the potential for his craft and embarks on a journey into the invisibly small. At the conclusion, two students come to see his recent work and there is - literally – nothing to see. It’s too small. They compliment him on it nonetheless, and the master miniaturist

…returned with some impatience to his work; and as he sank below the crust of the visible world, into his dazzling kingdom, he understood that he had traveled a long way from the early days, that he still had far to go, and that, from now on, his life would be difficult and without forgiveness.

This is what I thought being an artist was – finding that thing that you want to see, whether anyone wants to see it or not, and making it visible…if only to yourself. As I think about the humor and charm of Auerbach’s work, I find myself at once humored and charmed and slightly annoyed. Playing in the same field with language, I’m not too terribly interested in the kind of cleverness I see in that work. But I’m interested in something it contains or reflects.

And so, with some impatience, I must return to my work.

2 comments:

Gruber said...

I think I am caught in a perpetuating cloud of questions concerning motivation and value in my own work. Perhaps they are lingering, competitive feelings from my athletic days? What then is my excuse for not trying to show/ apply to competitions more, hmmn?
Finding a valid reason and direction for my work is a constant search, as is finding a legitimate measuring stick for judging whether anything I am doing is any good. I found some empathetic ground to stand on in this post, relating my struggles to others who are working intently to achieve something that others can't even see or understand. Like the master miniaturist, how often I find myself grinding away at something in my work that I know is present, even if I am unable to see or comprehend exactly what it is, or it's artistic worth. But the key is finding a fuel that gets me into the studio day after day, contributing to a lifetime involvement in an unforgiving pursuit.

tess1175 said...

Hear-hear K.!
Perpetual questions are for finding fleeting answers!
Preparing for thesis has been daunting. Deciding what is important to my practice...deciding who/what makes the cut. I suppose it can be compared to an addiction at times. Beyond that, keep working. Don't worry so much about the measuring stick...if it is something you feel is important enough to express. You are in a comfortable environment for discourse now...even if work is not "good" there is room to figure out where it can be and feed on making adjustments that fit you. Sending you more empathatic thoughts.
Hope you are well...nice to hear what you are thinking.
Terri