?

This may seem a bit unsolicited, but for my prep class, we are supposed to post three journal entries a week. No posts like, “I really hate my life right now” or “I like every boy!” (because that would be weird). No, these are posts where I speak intelligibly and about something of merit and value. So for the semester, it will be more writings than drawings. That is my disclaimer for not posting as much art on an art blog. 

Lately I have been thinking about what questions I should be asking myself. In at least 4 of my classes, the concept of asking good questions has been brought up. So, naturally, I am thinking about art that asks good questions, and many (including myself) would venture to say that the best art asks the best questions, rather than insisting on the best answers. James Joyce said that the artist creates the “uncreated conscience of the race”, the human race. Does this mean that the artists expose what we don’t yet know about ourselves? If there are things to learn about ourselves, is it better learned by a posed question or statement? I would like to explore the questions asked by a collaborative project I recently took part in. It is called “In Order to Receive” and I included here the project statement:   

Responses construct and even essentialize the history of art. This project is a collaboration that involves 12 artists who have responded to the artist directly before them. They each had one week to create their response, with the project lasting a total of 12 weeks. This is a simulation of the linear responsive process that has been happening throughout the existence of humanity.

Art has recently been able to reach global audiences. Instead of creating art to be contained in physical space, the artists in this project 
have created art on 12 individual websites that are specific to this medium: the internet.

The project is not complete yet, but I would like to consider one response in particular that has been the source of much drama. Having said that “the best art asks the best questions”, please consider the response submitted by Trevor Christensen. In the original one, he screams a few obscenities while smashing the lamp with the bat. The project was intended to be shown at BYU and so the sound and subtitles have been removed. Needless to say, it upset many people. Countless conversations (one that was even 3 hours long) have been had over his piece. Despite the offense taken, many of us have been fascinated by the questions his piece forced us to ask ourselves. Here are some questions we (the artists) and others have asked ourselves and each other.

How is his response true to the chosen medium of “the internet”?

In regards to viewers, who does his response relate to and who does it alienate?

Is it fair for him to lump all the art that came before him together under such a generalization?

Whose fault is it that the art fails? His or the artists? Were there flaws in the foundation and guidelines of the project from the beginning?

What is each artist responsible for? In my case, am I responsible for the art that is in response to mine? As a collaborative project, am I responsible for everybody else’s pieces, even the artists before me?

We all know there is a difference between constructive criticism and just being mean. Is saying that someone’s work “sucks”, being helpful or mean? Could his criticism help any of us artists?

Question for you: are these the right questions? Is there a better way to ask them?

Works Sited: May, Rollo. The Courage to Create. Toronto: Bantam, 1976. Print.