Note: The first part of this post
is in addition to a gently edited version of my presentation at Ekphrasis[i] 3 (July 30, 2023), an
art and literary joint project of Mulgrave Road Theatre and ArtWorksEast, in
(primarily) Guysborough county.
Coincidentally, I was recently made aware of a brief essay by my friend Dr. John Curtis who, along with his partner Mary Khosh, is a regular contributor to The Artisan in St. Petersburg, FL. Their article posits that “no matter what [the] creative process … [art is] about making meaningful emotional experiences….”
“Artists create fiction to tell the truth.” In turn, meaningful art causes “meaningful” experiences.
“Even in the womb we are trying to understand our environment … categorizing the world, differentially between words and music, for instance.”
I do not believe anyone proposes that the unborn child processes stimuli cognitively, but rather unconsciously or maybe ‘precognitively.’
“The artist lives in an imaginary land of concepts which are ‘in the head’, unlike categories which … are part of the real world [sic?]. Artists present auditory and visual concepts … which arouse within the recipient a range of feelings that must, above all, be sensed….”
In turn, we (viewers/consumers) create our own interpretations and evolving concepts. We experience a world of our own constructs. Sometimes our interpretations/conceptions are in sync with others – sometimes not. Even in the womb, writes Dr. Curtis, “we are trying to understand our environment … differentially….” Almost from the moment development begins, we are observing and processing information which contributes to further development.
Tennyson (1809-1892) opined “I am a part of all the I have met.” Scholars and other thinkers recognize Plato’s concept of our three persons, further explored and popularized by Freud as id, ego and superego. I often wonder whether the Christian trinity (father, son and holy ghost) is a representation of the Platonist (and Freudian) trinity. (I don’t like the term Platonic because that related concept of Plato’s philosophy has come to mean something else.)
So, we each respond to our worlds on several levels – perhaps more but certainly three – and that response can depend on how we know the world, and how that world has known us or how it has treated us.
If we take Marshall McLuhan’s
famous but somewhat obtuse invective “the medium is the message” at face value,
and if we apply it to our contemporary, highly mediated world, we can see that we are not
given enough time for our ego to contemplate our superego (and I suppose vice
versa), let alone our id. We are interacting with and reacting to a world
dominated by the need for speed – and for speedy responses. An example is when a politician hesitates; hesitation is a sign of weakness unworthy of our respect. We want answers immediately, and "he who hesitates" loses (malaprop intended).
So, how does this relate to my contribution to Ekphrasis 3 in Guysborough? Read on.
Presented at Ekphrasis 3, ArtWorks East, Guysborough, NS, July 2023
(and including some afterthoughts)
Mike R. Hunter
A lifetime ago I earned a living in photography – retail photofinishing and film, etc. My shop displayed a few lucky images of mine to catch the attention of passers-by, and people naturally assumed I was more than just someone who understood the physics and principles of exposure and the chemistry of processing. I went along with expectations and assumed the role of local photographer.
Photographs were my business. When I looked through the lens, I mentally processed what my eyes were seeing as something, or someone, having monetary value.
Those images were an assemblage according to basic principles and objectives. With lenses, flashes, tripods, etc., images had potential return on investment. Planning, composition, lighting and of course timing are involved in making photographs, whereas I was taking pictures.
After some years – some successful, most not – as cameras became more automatic, and those more affordable, it became easier for everyone else to take their own pictures. Copious digital memories trumped film processing, photo albums and picture frames. Photography became even more about taking pictures than making them. It also became more and more difficult to make a living. I moved on.
While the principles and physics of light and aesthetics of composition stayed with me, I found that digital photography made me lazy. The effort required to craft pleasing and meaningful images gave way to grabbing as many as possible. Automatic cameras mean I don’t have to work at images anymore. It’s all done for me – not necessarily for the better.
In truth, I couldn’t make the newfangled cameras produce what I could see with the naked eye. Reality is infinitely more interesting and pleasing. My brain and imagination translate, or at least reflect upon, the world, but not the new-fangled cameras.
Cameras are tools, instruments. Like many things, though, in the right hands and with the right eye, imagination and talent, the tool can bring some things to life. Some people still make photographs.
What delights me about Kas Stone’s digital images is that they give me pause. I really have to look at and study them. Some are more or less obviously digital – well-crafted, but obviously digital – but even those require a prolonged gaze. They require one to stop, to take the time to look. To stop and truly see them as the artist intended. And to take pleasure in that.
Artists call upon us to consider the world through the eyes of another, especially to pause and consider it alongside our own visions and understandings. Without contemplation, what we most often confront is superficial.
To illustrate, take a moment to hold out one hand in front of you and look at it. How many fingers do most people see? Four. Now, focus beyond those fingers. How many fingers to you see? Eight![ii]
Without contemplation, without true or deep vision, we tend to accept things as presented. There is no need or time to consider them. Our gaze doesn’t penetrate. We see, we move on, and when we look back, we don’t question.
It took a little while for me to affirm that some of Kas’s images are clever, remarkably detailed, photographs as opposed to paintings. And, I must mention, well printed and nicely presented.
The Crack evokes in us something special. And I do mean in us, as it speaks to the id – as any work of art should – not just for us or our walls and wallets.
The title Kas assigned confirmed and then reinforced my attraction, because it immediately evoked for me a song by the late great Leonard Cohen (1934-2016), who wrote in his “Anthem” (The Future 1992): “There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
Sometimes you have to squint to make sense of it – sometimes it’s obvious only after contemplation.
In Kas’s image, darkness almost overwhelms. The cliffhanging tree awaits an inevitable death-plunge into the abyss. As The Crack suggests to me, in the present precarious state of humanity, as we sense then watch for the seemingly inevitable “end of days,” there are rays of light, enlightenment and hope within reach.
The tree, bent under the burden of cones which, having reached the end of the growth cycle, have clustered at the treetop and closer to the light. Perhaps it senses that its days are numbered. It must produce an exaggerated number of potential offspring to ensure continuation of the species before it lets go.
That tree is surely going to fall, but just as surely the sky is going to clear – even if there’s no one around to see or hear.
Kas displays many intriguing images that give pause and, like The Crack, they remind us to open our eyes and minds to possibilities. That’s how the light gets in.
~~
I want to expand on the underlying theme of art and creativity, but in a forthcoming post. In the meantime, and in conclusion to the above rant around Ekphrasis 3, consider the following.
Here in Cape Breton (in 2023) we are enjoying an unprecedented growing season. Garden plants, lawns (unfortunately) and trees are visibly responding to unseen forces – climate change among them. At the same time we stand in wonder at unprecedented natural disasters: hurricanes, floods, wildfires, etc. Further still, we sit and wonder whence comes the rampant conservativism that is trying to turn back the clock: pointless soviet aggression, desperate and futile attempts to reverse gains in human rights so recently won – you get the idea.
As ardently as leaders, oligarchs, preachers and potentates parade in the name of righteousness, they are in fact exploiting and expanding society’s weaknesses. The more they (we) try to close up the cracks – seen as gaps – the more they in fact call attention to them and the more they are exposed.
But – that’s how the light gets in.
=30=
[i] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ekphrasis
[ii] In the Robin Williams film, Patch Adams (Universal Pictures 1998), a physician (Williams) treats the whole patient by triggering their inner child, just by clowning around. There is a scene in which Adams is chastised for not seeing the whole picture, and it demonstrated this four-vs-eight-finger way of seeing.
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