Mel Jacobson on sun 2 nov 97
i am always fascinated by the concept of what is hard, what is easy...and
who has it the best. all art is hard, difficult, mind searing. if you
have any feeling about your work, if you care at all, it is a difficult
task at best.
in my forty years of doing `art stuff`, i have found that fine art,
painting in my case, is like going into a black hole. the rules are few,
ideas must come from me, and keeping my mind from becoming `tricky`....is
the most difficult process that i attempt.
making pots has many advantages...first and foremost, we have some basic
rules to live by. we have several thousands of years of models and
examples of how to do it. craft lives by its models, those that have gone
before us. the science part alone restricts us to clay, water and fire.
we have to learn to control those elements before we can do `art`.
when i paint, i cannot step into my painting studio,hmmm, today i am going
to be `milton avery, or phillip guston`, but when i step into my clay
studio, i can say, hmmm, love that hamada form, that mackenzie handle, that
uchida mug, hmm, think i will make one like that, no one will care, and of
course, no one does. and then i say, like that dannon shino, i will just
use her idea, how about a little soda ash, painted on the pots. `
because we are crafts people, we can share ideas, techniques, formula.
we can share forms, textures, recipes. we, in many ways can
`interchange`. it is very, very difficult to do that in `fine art`.
when you stand in front of a blank, white canvas, that is as alone as you
can be. in your hand you have a stick, with hair on the end, a bunch of
colors to smear around until you think it is done. not easy.
in 1962 i made a conscious decision to leave painting and make pots...i
needed the structure and stability that the craft offered. i turned my
back on `andy wormhole` and the gang of anti-art people. art had become
verbal `blather`......pots offered me clay, glaze, kilns, fire,
construction, making things that had purpose, and it was an endeavor that
adored `skill`. so that is what i did, built a pottery, but like bad
relatives, painting always showed up at my door, and i always let it in.
in many ways the dual life i lead makes me sane. when i cannot any
longer find images that i like, color that turns to mud, and compositions
that look like a `how to` book, i go back to the wheel. i start a series
of pots, build a new glaze, fuss with my kiln, look at pictures of pots,
talk to kurt about pots, look at new pictures from - ? , think about old
pots that i have done.....and then the stream begins, and i do not think
about painting. and then one day, out of the blue, walk by the easel,
pick up a brush, touch it to the half done painting, and bingo.....solve
the problem. then i have to stretch a new canvas.
nothing of value is easy. we just do what we do, most often we cannot help
ourselves, cannot change.....we are born to the visual world of art and
craft and are bound within it forever. i do know however, that the most
difficult task that i face in my life is that blank canvas. it is hell and
heaven all mixed up, sometimes i do not even know what venue i am in.
making pots, most days, is a joyful activity...when your skills are in
place, and you have time to do, you can sort of put yourself on auto pilot,
turn on mozart, and let the pots roll out, and even when you have a sorta
crummy firing, you can find a dozen or so gems lurking in the middle of the
kiln, and they help you forget the bad ones.
mel
http://www.pclink.com/melpots
Gavin Stairs on mon 3 nov 97
At 11:13 AM 02/11/97 EST, mel wrote:
> a whole bunch of blather about how hard art is. (ed.)
Hi mel,
At last one of your posts I feel competent to comment on.
Yes, art is hard. It is hard like any other thing is hard. However, many
people do things without noticing they are hard. They are the ones who are
wise or foolish. Children who are not yet spoiled don't think art is hard.
I had to choose, many years ago, whether to become and artist or some sort
of scientist. I wanted to be an artist, but I could not get past this
problem: art is hard. You have to "say" something, and I felt that I had
nothing to say. I noticed that others about me were simply getting on with
it, but I couldn't. I was your classic left brain dodo. So I went for the
science, and thereby saved myself from early starvation.
But what I was actually embarking on was a quest for something to "say". I
wanted Truth, but no-one had any for sale. I looked in all the wrong
places (universities, institutional religions) and came up empty.
Then I chose a practical line of work, and set to work. I didn't have to
"say" anything: that was decided for me. All I had to do was master the
craft. In my case this happened to be engineering design. I found myself
at a university designing apparatus for physics research. I found that I,
oddball extraordinary, fit in. I had a place, and I had a craft which was
needed, and I became a master of that craft.
Now I find that I am becoming one of those fools who don't notice how hard
things are. I don't know what's good and what's not, and I don't care. I
observe that bad pots are being exhibited as good art. I observe that
kitsch is masquerading as high concept. Who cares? I want to make pots
that harken to their roots. I want to make a simple, honest pot. If
someone tells me it is art, that's their problem.
My problem is to migrate from the university laboratory to the potter's
studio. I figure it will take me a few years, but I have a few years.
What's the rush? In the mean time, would anyone care for a cup of tea?
Sit, sip, enjoy the universe.
Gavin
stairs@echo-on.net
http://isis.physics.utoronto.ca/
416 530 0419 (home) 416 978 2735 (work)
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
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