Monday, February 26, 2007

The Roots of Friendship

Tony, Me, Tripp

It may seem disrespectful to suggest that laughter and smiling faces could be considered proper etiquette when mourning the loss of anyone significant in your life. After all, how many funerals, or memorial services are joyous occasions, obviously not many. The overwhelming grief and shock that often surrounds the loss of a loved one can be very powerful, but the memories of those who are left to remember are extremely powerful as well. I’ve recently discovered that a smile can be more than a therapeutic device for coping, it too can be instrumental in connecting with those who are also mourning, but are still living. I’m not suggesting that tears should be avoided, only that laughter should not be, especially when the one being mourned was the source of so much laughter.

After recently losing a friend -- a friend who was always looking for a laugh, or a way to make you laugh, it became obvious how important and rewarding it is to remember that loved one with smile. Life has a funny way of bringing people into your world and then sending them off in other directions, often becoming nothing more than a page in a book that was read and forgotten. But through the loss of this friend I’ve been reminded that any good book is worth re-reading and some are so special that they are never forgotten. Everyone who knew Tripp has a story (or 10) about him. He was the branch on our unique tree of friends that would sprout leaves of toothpaste or Stove Top stuffing to get a laugh. His brand of humor will be sorely missed but always remembered. This special group of friends that I have been fortunate enough to know are no cheap dime-store paperback novels. I know now, more than ever, that when I pick up one of these books it will be as good as the last time I read it, maybe even better. I regret not spending more time with Tripp recently.

My friend, whom we affectionately called “Tripp” was part of a group of extraordinary people who, even though they each lead very separate and distinctive lives are invisibly connected in a way that I feel very blessed to be a part of. At a party that was arranged in his memory, this large group came back together, and for a moment were cradled in the comfort of familiarity. Perhaps it is just that our own sense of vulnerability taps us on the shoulder at such a time and reminds us of our own impending fates and automatically makes us feel the need to reconnect. Whatever it is, I’m grateful for it. Today I feel more connected than ever to the people that I have been fortunate enough to know in my life. Closer even, then when we were like books jammed together on well stocked library shelves. Even though today I sit separated, like a coffee table book from these people, I know they are still there, ready to offer support that keeps us all standing straight. What a gift, what a precious and irreplaceable gift to be part of such a group, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for them and for my accidental connection to them. Michelle, Tony, Joel, Darryl, Jason, Susan, Beth, Chris, Melanie, Crystal, Joe, Kevin, Theresa, John, Mike, Doug, and on and on. For the first time in my life I realize that time is inconsequential when it comes to history. Time is only a circumstance, history, once recorded, cannot be erased regardless of the infinite power that time possesses. I love each and every one of you and when the time comes I will smile through my tears when I remember what a joy it was to know you, just as I've done with Tripp, and I hope that you will do the same for me.

So many people spend their lives trying to become something, some figment of perfection within their mind and they sever the ties to their past, as if the past were a blemish on the map depicting their new destination. What a monumental mistake it is to live your life planting new seeds while abandoning the old ones. A great novel can’t be printed on the product of a sapling, it must come from a well established tree that has grown and withstood storms of every making, only then can a book worth reading be written. I am so glad to be a character in the story of our lives and I look forward to reading each page, regardless of the unknown trials that lie ahead.

Thursday, February 8, 2007

Picking on Pollock

I've been spending some time conversing within the group pages on Flickr and have posted a new topic concerning Jackson Pollock which has spurred another wonderful debate. The question I posted is below, along with the painting that prompted the post and my response to the current positions. I'd love to know your thoughts on the subject.



In the “How do we know if art is good" thread the following Jackson Pollock painting was posted along with the question “can you tell me what this is communicating” and the comment ‘tell me honestly that you get this painting’ was also offered. Well, being that I’ve seen this same subject come up in several other threads I’ve decided to open discussion on this subject and was wondering if I am alone in getting this and other similar types of non-representational works. So, the question is: Do you get it? If so why, if not why, I’d love to know.




All right, I’m going to stay away from the above discussion concerning galleries, their owners, and the richer segment of the population, although I do see a ‘Bergeresque’ discussion in the future, perhaps a new thread, but for now I’d like to comment on the magnificent “McDonald’s” floor pictured above. If Mickey D’s floors actually looked like this, then I’d probably be spending a whole lot more time chompin’ on French fries, and not because I’ve been mystified, fooled, or manipulated in to believing that the floor is the work of an important artist, but because I find the floor to be mezmerizing and artistic to the power of 140 or so.



Pollock’s #5 from 1948 is spectacular for many reasons which I will be glad to share with those who can’t seem to get past the "punk rock attitude" or the ‘anybody can paint like that’ mentality. ("Bob") mentioned that he wanted to see "humanity" in art, well these drip paintings have an extremely deep human connection that has nothing to do with "immature random violence" or "utter greed and tastelessness of the fat cats who have bought and sold it." Allow me to explain.



I’ll begin by pointing out the simple complexity, and complex simplicity, inherent in his drip paintings. Like a meandering labyrinth of action, these monumentally large canvases invite the viewer to experience a straightforward and almost transparent view of the world. Like life, a simple action can be responsible for a complex situation, just as complicated situations often find resolve from the simplest actions. How many of us can relate to this idea?



This dichotomy represents precisely what was happening in Pollock's life when he painted these. Which, as Paulsydney brilliantly points out, is vital to understanding his work, “Pollock belongs in the pantheon of fine arts where a little extra knowledge of the man, his thoughts and methods, and context of the artistic world of the day are important to overall appreciation of his works.” Well said.



It wasn’t until after Lee Krasner, Jackson Pollock’s wife and emotional foundation, convinced him to leave the city and to stop drinking, that he was able to clear his mind enough to paint. This somewhat simple lifestyle alteration allowed him to escape years of mental instability and blurred objectives, severe alcoholism and self-persecution, an overwhelming desire to be known and respected, alongside an ever-constant fear of success. To finally find an uncomplicated and comfortable environment to express himself was paramount to his “breaking the ice” as De Kooning said of the drip paintings.



Simply stop, and all of the tortuous, convoluted, entangled problems will resolve themselves. Some might say that my thoughts represent a somewhat poetic interpretation and not one based on concrete foundations. Nevertheless, I think the paralells are quite clear; on occasion, a poetic interpretation is one that assists when we really have a desire to “see” something, especially these paintings.



Another more concrete observation rests within being able to follow every movement of the artist. This fixed action creates a unique experience between the artist and viewer, and on top of that Pollock was able to achieve this relationship in a considerably unique fashion unlike any other non-repwork before. He successfully developed a relationship with the viewer without any traditional methods, other than a pleasing finished product and a few conventional compositional elements. There is an obvious balance to the composition (it is not random), a depth and three dimensionality to the lines created, the drags and drips communicate the action of the paintings evolution, a rare treat for the viewer. Not to even mention the sheer size of his canvases! Not only do they allow the viewer to practically immerse themselves in a tangle of color and motion all while standing perfectly still, but they also relay a message of clarity among turmoil, and this, my friends, was and still is monumental.