Icon

       Icons were images of revered religious figures created by artists for the Orthodox Christian Church. Despite the controversy of the Iconoclast, the church remained a major patron of these figural paintings. This caused the Western art world to adopt strong theological components, and in countries such as Greece and Russia, the tradition of iconography is still regularly practiced to this day. Icons were thought to be sacred representations of saints and holy figures, and over the years artists did not change their form or style of depiction for fear of disgracing the presence of the divine. Iconography was (and in some places still is) a very important part of the Orthodox Christian tradition, and the practice of a commonly reproduced image has made its way into modern art as well in forms such a Pop art.

       I learned about the iconoclast for the first time in an art history course freshman year. I remember pouring over the pictures of esteemed churches and basilicas of old such as Hagia Sophia, trying to imagine what the mesmerizing interiors would look had the wall paintings not been picked to pieces. I felt that it was such a pity that so many wonderful works were destroyed as a result of the controversy. If only those highly religious instigators could see what modern artists have done with religious images! They might decide that the polite, sanctimonious rendition of serene and pious saints was nothing to get worked up over after all.

Body as Medium

Using the body as a medium not only connotes a strong sense of human presence, but also a timeless immediacy so as to take the viewer directly into the moment the work was made and the life that made it. Sometimes artists create works through use of their hair, nails, blood, etc. extracted from their own living bodies, and other times the dead bodies of others are utilized. Historically the latter has occurred frequently in funerary arts and ritual adornments made either for or from the dead. Since everyone had a body, it is acts as a universal medium that is relatable to all viewers. At the same time, it is perhaps the most individual and personal means an artist has to incorporate him or herself into the artwork.

When I was an adolescent I was privileged to be able to visit New York City on one occasion. In one of the museums my mother and I toured during our stay, I saw a strange piece of performance art that I will never forget. Upon coming to the top of the stairs to the second floor of the museum, I was shocked to behold a small, thin wisp of a woman dressed in a white body suite and writhing in slow motion on the floor in the corner of the hallway. My inexperienced brain did not see it as art at first... I was troubled and concerned for the woman’s health/sanity. To this day I have no idea what message she was trying to send, but I appreciate the learning experience. That woman showed me that the human body itself can be used as a whole to create art.

Later in adolescence I went through a rather dark artistic phase during which I often used my own blood as a medium for painting and writing. Even now when I see those works, the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention and I immediately flash back to the intoxicating moments when I was so overtaken with emotion that I could spill my own blood for the sake of artistic expression. Though I am grateful to have had those powerful experiences, I couldn’t do it again. To many humans, myself included, the body is quite sacred. Perhaps it is this notion in particular that serves to send such a poignant and personal message when an artist choses to visually share his or her own flesh with viewers.

Anatomy

       Accurate renditions of the human form have been a part of the art world since ancient Greece, but the practice of dissection to learn more about the anatomy provided artists with the information needed to direct their focus underneath the skin. Once knowledge of anatomy, science and other disciplines become elements of artistic training, artists such as Da Vinci and Michelangelo were able to capture unprecedentedly realistic bodies. Their familiarity of the interplay between muscles, ligaments and tendons underneath the skin allowed them to share that knowledge with viewers through meticulously lifelike depictions of the surface.  However, once this information became widely available, it became widely practiced and thus lost a bit of its original luster. Modern anatomical artistic practices such as plastination revive the original fascination and simultaneous repulsion viewers feel when beholding what lies beneath the flesh.

       I have always enjoyed drawing the human body. There is a beautiful depth to the subtleties and natural details within that is incredibly challenging to accurately capture but so rewarding once understood. When I was a child, I rarely drew anything but people, particularly princesses in extravagant dresses. By the time I graduated high school, I thought I had mastered the human form. Then I was forced to draw nudes in college and changed my mind. To have a chance at a first-hand glance at the muscular and skeletal structures beneath the skin would be an amazingly informative experience if I could acquire the stomach for it. It’s interesting that this type of intensive study of the anatomy was so heavily emphasized hundreds of years ago, but now artistic training has reverted back to a more superficial academic structure.

Body as Surface

For thousands of year the body has been used as a canvas for self-expression and cultural representation. This has been done in many ways, the most common methods being tattooing, scarification and body painting. The original purpose of such practices was usually of symbolic or ceremonial nature, but the idea of using the body as a surface has now expanded far beyond anything the first practitioners could have ever dreamed. From the chewing gum cicatrices of Hannah Wilke to Orlan’s elective surgeries, the concept of humans as canvas has left a permanent mark in the art world.

Though I have never had the guts (or the money) to acquire a tattoo, I went through an artistic period in which body piercings were my favorite means of self-expression. Indeed, I did identify with a specific countercultural group, and I was eager to show the world that I lived my life without fear of the restrictions of the social norm. Now that I am older and on my way to becoming a respectable teacher, I find myself wishing there was a way to make those holes disappear without a trace. However, I do not regret the initial decision to modify my appearance. I appreciate each one as an artistic experiment and a learning experience.

Concentration #1

I am working with the big idea of consciousness: to be awake and aware of one’s own actions and their potential effects on the self and the surrounding world. This exclusively human attribute is married to free will, forming a dynamic duo that is both the perpetrator and the solution for every obstacle in life as we know it. There are many veins of thought that branch out from this fascinating concept, all of them worth exploring, but this specific piece reflects my own experience and interpretation of what it means to "wake up." This oil painting (untitled, for now) is my best attempt at visually explaining that first moment when I opened my heart and mind to the inextricable presence of my own consciousness and the power within. To be a part of the solution rather than the problem, one must consciously release all vices, distractions and prejudices in the name of focusing on how one might direct their own consciousness for the betterment of the world at large. In this moment, I found my purpose. The lifelong question of “why am I here” was answered in one word: Love. To be aware of this for the first time was an outpour of overwhelming relief and dazzling color over my previously black and white world. Tears fell like rain, and to this day my heart swells to bursting when I remember the moment I was saved from everything inside of me that didn’t belong there. Once purged of the dredge of politics, religion, the media, materialism, societal pressures, and the guilt of our pasts, we as human beings can be truly free to think for ourselves. Only then can we know wisdom. Only then can we know peace.

Documentary

Though art frequently serves documentary purpose, its visual nature makes it impossible to shut off all imaginative properties. Visual art, no matter how straightforward and factual it is meant to be, can always be interpreted a bit differently from person to person. British filmmaker John Grierson described his documentaries as “The creative treatment of actuality.” For filmmakers and photographers, artistic endeavors are often investigations of reality requiring both critical thinking and creative analysis. Art can serve as a means to provide a first-hand account of one moment in history to be honorably preserved and passed on to generation upon generation.

I feel that this chapter left out a critical aspect of art as documentary. Yes, art can be used as an objective record of facts and events, but it is also a most excellent means of recording personal growth. One of the projects I am working on right now involves a culmination and analysis of my own artwork created throughout my 22 years of life. It is my treasured artistic autobiography, an honest record of my progression from scribbles to full scale photo-realistic paintings. I can look back on my past works and reflect upon how life’s events influenced my development as an artist, as well as how I dealt with those events through my artwork. I own no other artifacts that cause childhood memories to come flooding back in the same way. It’s the most accurate and meaningful documentary I will most likely ever have in regards to my own life.

Satire

Satire turns the traditional purpose of art on its head by means of brutal and often humorous honesty, rather than an appeal to the ego of the viewer. Appearances are manipulated to depict some kind of truth about the underlying reality of the subject, and the further apart these two factors are, the more satirical a work of art becomes. However, it is imperative that the meaning be crystal clear. Satire, when used appropriately, has the power to effectively diffuse the tension of a touchy subject with cleverly crafted humor without distorting the truth of the matter. Metaphor and analogy are often key ingredients in a satirical work, and the content of these works is often intended to speak to a specific audience. Not everyone will agree with such comparisons, and it is because of this that satire has the keen power to offend as well as much as it does to amuse.

My use of satire in my personal artwork is humble at best, but I adore most satirical works created before the year 1950. As a viewer, I know how important it is to possess the historical, social and cultural background knowledge needed to understand satirical artwork. I also recognize that satire is only appealing if I agree with what the artist is trying to say. If these two things do not fall into place, it can be either puzzling or quite repulsive. In recent years modern artists have become much bolder and more controversial than ever before, and due to my personal values and belief systems I have been absolutely offended by some of the things I have seen in modern satire. Case in point, Chris Ofili’s “The Holy Virgin Mary.” While this artist is absolutely entitled to his opinion, I cannot stand to look at his work.