Personal is Political

The phrase "personal is political" was coined in an essay by Carol Hanisch, a women’s rights activist who suggested that the personal psychological ailments of minorities, especially women, was a result of larger political and social injustices suffered by these people. The feminist movement questioned why there were so few established female artists in society and why they were being barred from achievement of such a position. Women’s sexuality, spirituality, and nurturing role came to be artistically celebrated as a result of the feminist movement, and previously ignored aspects of women’s experience often became the subjects for such works. The personal and the political were fused together for the sake of a common cause: to liberate and celebrate previously the suppressed self-expression of all peoples who were not white males. The woman’s experience in particular became accepted material for art for the first time, and many female artists have since gone on to sustain professional careers and receive public commissions and awards.

As a female, I am extremely grateful to the brave women’s rights activists of decades past for making success possible for me as an artist. The role of women in society has been completely transformed due to their efforts. I am free to explore my passion for the arts, and I am free to network and promote my work without opposition. Though my own artwork is not particularly feminist in content, I feel that the messages I aim to send to my viewers are equally important, and I am thankful to have the right and the ability to make my voice heard.

Protest

Protest art seeks to bring about such strong feelings in a viewer so as to mobilize them to action against an adversary. Often times a specific historical event of moral or ethical atrocity is selected as subject matter to demonstrate the purpose for protest, such as Goya's The Third of May, 1808 or Picasso's Guernica. In fact, Guernica was actively used as a public means of protest during the Spanish Civil War, and its powerful anti-war message still ruffles feathers to this day. Protest artists have a tendency to a politically align themselves with the left, with some groups such as the Surrealists tying themselves with international communism. Due to the multi-layered nature of politics and resulting effects on society, documentary and memorial art have the potential to become political statements as well.

I have noticed that much of modern art could be categorized as protest art of sorts, even if the artist is simply protesting the stereotypical conventions of what it means to make art. I think some modern artists actually delight in rabble rousing, whereas others simply seek to confound their viewers and force them to reconsider the definition of art itself. Personally, I don't do protest pieces because I don't like confrontation and don't want to align myself with a particular political party. My focus is geared more toward self-discovery and inner peace.

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.