EBrown Chapter 3 response

Frankly, I enjoyed the shorter chapter this week (looking ahead Chapter 4 appears quite lengthy), because it gave me more time to reflect over the reading and to research points of interest.

I didn't find it surprising that we still only see white, wealthier artists listed again in this chapter.  At this point in our American history, minorities remain excluded from the mainstream and many lower socioeconomic Americans don't have the luxury of time to pursue artistic endeavors; nothing I say now can change that reality.  However, we will soon read of the Harlem Renaissance, a time of great production for African American writings, music, and art.  You and I both know that African Americans were making literary, musical, and artistic works prior to this time, yet it's as if our nation began to look outside the "traditional" to see that "oh!  These people make art, too!"  Hopefully, as we move further through American history we will begin to see more representation from ALL Americans.

Marguerite Zorach, and her husband William, have a tiny segment within the chapter, yet the image of her work stuck in my mind throughout the week.  The feeling her piece "The Sea"--created by bright, pure hues and organic, curving lines--was so starkly different from the images of other textiles in our book thus far.  It also stands apart from the works in glass, wood, and ceramics.  Perhaps the jewelry we've looked at reaches the feeling of Zorach's the closest, but most of the A&C work we've seen, even if light in color, has felt heavy in design or over-contrived in design.  To clarify that a little more, A&C artisans sought to create natural works based on originality and handcrafted workmanship, yet most examples we've seen seem reduced to flat, stylized motifs.  Whereas Zorach's work breaks from stylization and from the overly geometric into this realm of "painterly composition."  Her composition is planned out, yet retains the feeling of looseness and happenstance.  I'm sure she was influenced by painters and other fine artists she knew personally and professionally (i.e. the Fauves).  I was particularly excited to read that she and her husband maintained a relationship with Gaston Lachaise, a favorite figurative sculptor of mine.  I can see a shared vocabulary in the depiction of the human form (a style choice of the 1910s, 20s).  But perhaps her work retains this feeling of "painterly composition" because she viewed her work as paintings rather than textile pieces.

I underlined/scribbles/starred frequently in the segment about Janet Payne Bowles.  She, like Zorach, pushed the boundaries of convention in her craft and made surprisingly modern forms.  I found it interesting that she and her husband lived in Helicon Hall community started by Upton Sinclair--as we all know, author of "The Jungle."  This alone intrigued me enough to hunt down a little more information, where I came across this 1909 article from the NY Times about the community and its demise in flames:
http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf_r=1&res=9406E5DB163EE233A25754C1A9659C946697D6CF
It is a long article, but provides lively context into the people we are reading about.  As I was reading about JPB, I was also struck with the thought that it seemed "modern" for her husband to be a drug addict, although addiction is hardly a modern invention.  Sometimes we feel as if our generation has a patent on certain vices, but certainly we aren't the inventors of addictions or other vices from the dark side of humanity.  After these two difficult life events, JPB goes on to teach and make metal art.  I found a 1924 publication of "International Studio" that others might find interesting; it contains more images of her work and insight into her life:  http://www.chicagosilver.com/bowles.htm.  Another aspect the author included in this section about Bowles that I find interesting is that even with all her achievements and accolades, JPB felt compelled to lie about her work.  Perhaps this is a common compulsion for artists?  We feel lots of pressure to remain "at the top" and pad the record because of an insecurity that perhaps we aren't producing at the rate of our peers/competitors.  How often have I read another artist's CV and thought "she showed THAT much in 2010?!  I must not be trying hard enough."

I am taking away from this chapter thoughts on originality and history.  At the start of Chapter 3 we are reminded that the dominant thought of the day was "[to] dispense with references to the past" and that historicism was "bad taste and intellectual weakness."  Again we hear mention of Frank Lloyd Wright's rejection of historical motifs (something that caught my eye in Chapter 2).  Yet the very act of making also creates history.  FLW might be surprised to see how his designs, his motifs, have become a part of design vernacular.  Revivals and trends in aesthetic are cyclical, going back thousands of years into human history.  What we value today, or for the next 50 years, was probably a popular school of thought a hundred years ago in one culture or another and we will be shocked into change by a "new" aesthetic coming onto the scene.  We have to remember that to create art is to create history; we will end up as a blip on that timeline someday, too.