Tag: visual artists

Radiant

I had the opportunity of seeing Tamra Davis’ film about her rather-talented friend recently. Jean-Michel Basquiat is, and remains, one of my all-time favorites.

I’ve written about Basquiat in the past, especially in relation to his part-Haitian background, as I feel that’s an important part of understanding and appreciating his work. But Davis’ film, with its combination of interviews, old footage, music, and visual effects, added much to my appreciation. The balance between the epic and the intimate was achieved with a light, loving touch; footage of her interview with Basquiat sang and shimmered in beautiful harmony with other footage that documented his meteoric rise in the bitchy New York art world of the 1980s. I loved the way she coordinated shots of his art with his bebop (his favourite music), a technique that vividly reflected the kind of energy that so exuberantly exists in all his work. Her interviewees (including Fab Freddy, Kenny Scharf, and Tony Shafrazi, among many others) all offer a unique insight into Basquiat’s special brand of genius.

In watching Radiant Child, I was also struck by the creative possibilities extant in New York in the early 1980s; rent was cheap and art -of all styles -was everywhere. Young people wanted to explore their contributions to the cultural diaspora (though they’d argue they were just as much out for a good time and a hot meal). Cable access shows, indie radio, zines, graffiti, DIY bands… NYC was an incredible cultural stew of punk, rap, dance, and industrial. Everything’s changed since, of course, but as Radiant Child wrapped up, I couldn’t help but think of what Basquiat, a great cultural explorer, would make of the digital revolution. Reinvention, reinterpretation, cultural appropriation, intellectual piracy: what would Jean-Michel say? How would he react? How much would he take/borrow/steal in order to create? How would the ease of digital technologies influence his output? or indeed, his input, his perceptions of the world around him?

I thought about this in reading previews of Piracy: The Intellectual Property Wars From Gutenberg to Gates (University of Chicago Press), Adrian John‘s latest book. To quote the University of Chicago Press’s description, the book “ultimately argues that piracy has always stood at the center of our attempts to reconcile creativity and commerce—and that piracy has been an engine of social, technological, and intellectual innovations as often as it has been their adversary.”

The term “piracy” with its pseudo-romantic (if seriously flawed) notions, can be just as potently ascribed to the world of visual art as to other cultural artforms. Think of the Emergency Broadcast Network, who made video work patched together from a sea of other, seemingly-unrelated clips. In Radiant Child, Davis draw clear lines between Basquiat and his influences -literally, by showing the original inspiration (say, something by Picasso) and Basquiat’s interpretation. How would he respond to the copyright claims brought about via the digital revolution?

It’s a question worth pondering as one considers the genius on display on Davis’ work, and the various threads used to weave beauty in any age. Artists are cannibals, it’s true, and often the best creations are in fact re-creations. It’s the individual artist -mixmaster, curator, interpreter -who takes the clay forms of the past and moulds them into something meaningful -for themselves and others -in the present. When it come to the greatness that touches some artists like Basquiat, they created, re-created, and inspired for their time, and forever, and their works live on, on the canvas, and online. Radiant indeed.

Sow, Seed, Screen


The Seed from Johnny Kelly on Vimeo.

This video is courtesy of awesome Irish artist Johnny Kelly, whose work (alongside brother Mickey) you can find here. There’s also an interview over at excellent British site Don’t Panic.

I love the embrace of the playful and child-like with Kelly’s work; he uses a variety of loud colours, big shapes, and playful motifs. There’s nothing poe-faced about it. His work is an expression of true joy, and this video is proof. It’s a fascinating, compelling two minutes of online video. Gorgeous, and perfect for spring.

Politics. Economy. Art.

One of my favourite pastimes is pouring over the weekend papers amidst steaming cups of tea, with Go or Michael Enright on in the background, nibbling away on bits of toast, egg, bacon or waffles. It was with great interest and more than a little sadness that I read the story of Zakariya Zubeidi in Saturday’s edition of The Globe and Mail:

It was the hardest decision of Zakariya Zubeidi’s life. Slightly more than a year ago, the powerful commander of Jenin’s al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, one of Israel’s most-wanted for plotting shooting attacks and suicide bombings, walked into a Palestinian security office and handed in his gun.

At 32, he had concluded bitterly that his fight had failed. And he had another ambition: to deter this poverty-stricken camp’s children away from the path of violence by rebuilding a children’s theatre destroyed in the last intifada.

Offered, along with other gunmen, a rare amnesty from Israel, he spent time in a Palestinian jail and swore to remain unarmed. On his release, he pledged to dedicate his time to the Freedom Theatre’s workshops and performances, trying to recreate his own boyhood experiences in drama thanks to the work of a Jewish-Israeli peace activist.

But today his past has caught up with him, illustrating the difficulty of starting a new life after one of violence. The theatre, now thriving under the direction of the original founder’s son, does not want him there for fear that he will scare off much-needed foreign donors in the theatre’s quest to expand.

I wonder if anyone in the Canadian theatre world could imagine this happening. We all understand the importance of keeping benefactors happy, and resorting to sometimes-questionable measures to keep its members happy. Juliano Mer Khamis’ has a point about fearing Zubeidi’s association with the theatre; it may truly harm their reputation, their chances of fundraising, and indeed, their physical safety. Still, to isolate someone whose whole being seems so entirely bound up with theatre feels… horribly sad. Isn’t part of art’s purpose to enlighten? Even re-reading it now, the story puts the role and significance of theatre –and its relationship to politics -in a whole new light.

At a time when artists need to stick together, cultivate community and spread awareness, it’s heartbreaking to see possibilities being ripped asunder by politics and nationalism. I don’t know what kind of a suggestion to offer here, but I’m so grateful to the Globe for publishing this story. Yet another example of how art impacts life, and life impacts art.

In that vein, it was with great interest that I read Mark Vallen’s blog this morning about the impact the global recession could have on the livelihoods and outputs of visual artists. While it’s tempting to tut-tut at art’s role in harsh economic times, it’s equally apt to suppose that (to twist a phrase) “art is the mother of necessity.” History would seem to bear out the fact that harsh economic reality tends to yield some wonderful stuff –and that stuff, whether it takes the form of painting, sculpture, performance, writing or otherwise, is a reflection, examination, and exploration of the economic reality we all face.

Hardship knows no bounds; conversely, its unbound nature allows its expression in many creative outlets. And there’s something reassuring about that.

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