2009: the good, the bad and the ugly

Before launching into the new decade and contemplating New Year's resolutions, I've been thinking about the year that's almost over. Here's a snapshot of 2009:

The Good:

1. Going to the Gym.

In June I visited the doctor for an annual checkup. On leaving, the dr. recommended I reward myself with something "nice". On my way home, I spontaneously stopped at the gym and signed up with a personal trainer for 3 x 30 minute sessions per week. Ok - that's not exactly "nice", but becoming a gym bunny has changed my life. I am now pain-free when studying and I'm wearing the type of clothes that I haven't touched for years.

2. It's all Greek for me!

In recent years I struggled a lot with the personality-driven art history department at my university, so in 2009 I switched departments. In entering the Classics department, a new love was borne. Greek history, Greek art, Greek philosophy and Greek religion - I love it all!

3. Tennis.

As a bit of a social hermit, it was a big step to join the local tennis club and play competition tennis. Through tennis I've met so many wonderful people. I heartily recommend joining a sporting group!

4. The Teaching Company.

This organisation commission the top U.S. lecturers to give talks on topics as diverse as philosophy, history and fine art. They are a wonderful to listen to when mosaicing or travelling.

They won't appeal to everyone, but I love them!

Here's the link:

http://www.teach12.com:80/teach12.aspx?ai=30315&cm_mmc=Google-_-Search-_-na-_-na

5. Sharing in my children's achievements.

I know it's corny, but when they achieve I feel as though I do too! For years I've told my sons that it's not about how bright you are, but how hard you work. This year, they worked hard and achieved highly. I'm so proud!

The Bad:

1. Loss.

The year started with the sudden loss of a close friend, and it continued that way with a cousin and a friend's wife. Cancer seems like Russian roulette, and there's no magic formula to avoid it.

2. Break-ups

I suppose it's another form of "loss", but I am always saddened to hear of break-ups. Last weekend friends came to stay. We had a great time, and we made plans to go to Istanbul in 2011. The next day, my friend phoned to say they had broken-up. What? How does that happen? How can everything go askew in 24 hours?

The Ugly:

1. Nursing Homes.

I learnt all about nursing homes this year, and they're darn right ugly! My Dad's nursing home is not physically ugly - it's just so terribly sad that this state of living is a real chapter at the end of so many people's lives.

On my last visit on Monday, an elderly lady - with tears running down her face - beseeched me to give her a hug. She was hugging her dolly, and when I hugged her I was shocked by how terribly cold she was.

Every time I visit Dad, I want to whisk him away.

I'm not sure what 2010 will bring - but it's probably more of the good, the bad and the ugly!

If you're reading this, I send you love and best wishes for the next decade.

"Landscape" or "land"?

What makes a landscape distinct from the land? When you walk in the country, do you see the area as a whole (ie. as "land"), or do you divide the whole into little scenes and create "landscapes"?

I may be wrong, but I think artists tend to do the latter. Each morning I walk along the beach "framing" little landscapes, and trying to remember the way the shadows fall on the trees or the colour of the water.

Yet, in doing this, I inadvertently position myself as an outsider because I am no longer mentally immersed within the environment. Paradoxically, in observing the landscape, I separate myself from the very thing I want to be part of.

This dilemma is not new. It's interesting to note that landscape painting - as a genre within art - only emerged following the rise of urbanisation after the Renaissance. In other words, the land was only considered worthy of being a subject in its own right after man had separated himself from it.

Conversely, when land is the fabric of life and a source of livelihood, people relate to the land as "insiders" - that is, they see the land as "land" and not as landscape.

When I look at my mosaic work, I notice that I continually position myself (and the viewer) as the "onlooker." In a series of mini landscape scenes created this year, the viewer is invariably positioned looking at the landscape rather positioned within it. The scenes, like the one above, may invite the viewer's gaze but she or he is prohibited from entering the scene. Consequently, like the artist, the viewer remains the wistful onlooker.

I'm in a lull now - the artist's equivalent to writer's block. One part of me wants to move away from creating landscapes. Perhaps, underlying this urge, is a deeper urge to cease being an observer of life and to immerse more fully in my environment.

Tristan and the Christians....

My son Tristan attends a Christian school. As none of the boys going into year 12 wanted be House Sacristan, Tristan volunteered. Last week ,Father Brian (your typical plump Irish priest) asked Tris if he had been confirmed. Replying to the negative, Father Brian said, "hmmm, well, you'd better go straight away and fill out a form so that ye can be confirmed."

Unbeknown to Father Brian, Tris hasn't even been baptised - let alone confirmed. Moreover, Tristan is adamant that he doesn't want to be! He supports Christian values, but he grew up in a household that followed an Eastern philosophy.

This reminds me of the scene in the "Life of Pi" when the young Indian boy encounters the leaders of his local religious groups in the local market place - each of whom thinks the boy is a follower of HIS religion.

Now we are waiting to find out whether the Christians will be "Christian" to a non-Christian Tristan!

Artwork: "Tristan and Isolde" by Edmond Blair Leighton

A fresh look at the "Is Mosaic art?" debate ....

This debate is undoubtedly well-worn and treads on sensitive ground. And so I'll extend an apology first in case I inadvertently offend anyone.

I believe that the reason why there is resistance to mosaic art in the contemporary art world is because the mosaic medium doesn't lend itself easily to the complex themes explored within contemporary art.

This may sound harsh, but I'm discussing the nature of mosaic art - that is, the innate qualities of mosaic art.

Mosaic art is ideally suited to emphatic declarations. The emphatic religious concept of Christianity is perfectly represented in Byzantine art. Similarly, the political murals by Diego Rivera were ideal for the mosaic medium.

But today's world is not so sure .... and a lot of contemporary art reflects this uncertainty. Our world is far from emphatic - in fact, it's the opposite. Our world is complex, subtle, sensitive, multicultural, paradoxical and Ex-treme.

The challenge is for mosaic artists to introduce these complexities within mosaic art.

The emphasising of meaning - rather than medium - provides the key for the acceptance of mosaic art into the contemporary art world. Rather than being limited by the medium, the meaning within mosaic works must transcend the medium. Bill Viola's works provide a good example of an artist working with video installations or film. The sensitivity of his works are sensuously captured in this medium, and yet "film" is simply the medium in which meaning is conveyed. In manipulating the medium to suit his meaning, Viola's works have transformed and redefined the definition of film.

History shows us that it's definitely possible for a new medium to enter the fine art world.

In the early 1900s there was much debate about whether photography could be considered a "fine art". After all, photography contravened the sensitive nucleus of the fine art world because photography has no "original work of art".

Film came on photography's heels, and demanded to be considered as "fine art". Film shattered the art world's walls further in its innate requirement to be mass produced. How could something mass-produced enter the hallowed walls of the fine art world?

Both photography and film were SUCCESSFUL! Not only did they enter the fine art world, they transformed the entire nature of art.

There is a space for mosaic art. But, the more pertinent issue concerns what an artist is saying rather than which medium an artist uses.

Raphael versus mosaic art!

I had a short-lived thrill today. In writing an essay on the philosopher, Hegel, the word "mosaic" jumped off the page.

"Oh, Hegel is mentioning mosaic art," I thought excitedly.

On reading a little further, I slowly comprehended that Hegel was no fan of mosaic art. Whereas Hegel praises oil painting for its translucency, subtlety, and gradual transition of tones; he mentions that mosaic art is the medium in which these aspects are LEAST able to be achieved!

The irony in this statement does not elude me. Hegel's admiration of Renaissance oil painting is because it contains three-dimensional perspective. For Hegel this illusionary space helps to manifest a feeling of inward subjectivity that he considers appropriate for the Christian belief. Yet, up until the Renaissance, mosaic art was the foremost art medium for expressing the Christian belief. Moreover, it must have been a pretty good medium if the rapid expansion of Christianity throughout Europe in this period is any indication.

I agree with Hegel in that Raphael's Madonna is awe inspiring and succeeds in portraying a "spiritual inwardness." However, mosaic art also managed to inspire religious awe. Rather than employing perspective to create inwardness, Byzantine mosaic art employed colour (especially gold) to dazzle viewers.

Hegel had obviously never stood beneath the mosaics in Ravenna if he made such callous observations about mosaic art!

Searching for the "classic" mosaic ....

In the previous post, I discussed how the Greek artists fascination with illusion influenced mosaic art. In an ironic twist, their mastery of illusionistic effects led to the decline of the medium.

The problem encountered by Greek mosaicists has prompted me to think about the ideal form and/or format for mosaic art. In using the word, "ideal", I am referring to which application most suits mosaic art. Perhaps, I'm also influenced by Hegel, the German philosopher. Hegel espoused that 'each art medium has to show itself particularized and to convey its appropriate subjective inwardness'.

Marble, for example, was the perfect medium for the Ancient Greeks to use in their sculptured forms of the human body. Could any other medium have the same impact upon us as the marble seen in a Greek kouros? Even 2,000 years later, we feel the congruity between form and content when we stand in front of these sculptures.

I'm aware that Hegel's way of thinking goes against contemporary art practice. In the last ten years, huge developments have taken place in the mosaic art medium. The rules that previously governed the medium no longer exist. Today, mosaic and sculpture combine; andamento can be eschewed; and different laying technques (opus) appear within the same mosaic.

Yet, although boundaries are being pushed, is our admiration for the technical virtuosity evinced within a work or for the virtuosity of the medium itself? Of course, one impresses the intellect; whereas the other touches the heart.

As a history student, I believe that history provides lessons. I'm searching for the time when mosaic art was celebrated as more than a technical achievement and for the time when it touched hearts. In essence, I'm searching for the mosaic equivalent of Greek sculpture. I'm seeking the "classic mosaic" - a time when the nuances and idiosyncrasies of mosaic art were celebrated and not denied.

But this discussion will be for another blog!

The paradox within Mosaic Art

My recent study of Ancient Greek mosaic art has focussed upon the Greek fascination of incorporating illusionistic effects within even the simplest mosaics. It seems that every aspect of mosaic production - from the way a mosaic appeared within a domestic room through to the way the tesserae was laid - was concerned with illusion. Yet, Peter Fischer (the art historian) wryly observed that the Greek mosaicists' mastery of illusionistic effects ultimately pointed to the decline of the mosaic medium. And this, observes Fischer, 'is the paradox of the greatness and tragedy of mosaic art.'

If we think about it, this is a pretty wild statement to make! How can mastery lead to decline? Isn't that in itself a paradox?

Firstly, for the Greeks, mosaic art always tried to be something it wasn't. For example, a floor mosaic wasn't appreciated because it was a "mosaic" but because it created the illusion of being a rug on the floor. This is why many of the motifs in Greek mosaics are also found in carpets and other textiles. Similarly, mosaics were positioned in doorways to announce a division between rooms. But, once again, these mosaics were more concerned with being pseudo-doormats than a celebration of the mosaic medium for its own sake.

The developments in mosaic art during the Greek period were also prompted by their ability to introduce more illusionistic effects. The invention of tessellated mosaics, for example, afforded more opportunities than pebble mosaics for mosaic art to resemble wall paintings. And if you think about the laying technique, Opus Vermiculatum, you will notice that the continuous lines conceal the fact that the mosaic is the assemblage of hundreds of separate pieces. Each new illusionistic development inadvertently concealed the intrinsic nature of the mosaic medium!

Fischer's controversial statement led to me wonder why mosaic art continued to dominate Roman and Byzantine art for so many centuries. And, in pouring over pictures of Roman and Byzantine mosaics, I realised that the answer was staring me in the face! The geometric motifs in Roman art are much simpler and stylized than in Greek art. Neither Roman nor Byzantine mosaics were concerned with naturalism, and so mosaic art was the ideal medium for these cultures.

So how does this effect mosaic artists today? Fischer's words contain a lesson for all contemporary mosaic artists to celebrate the intrinsic nature of the medium.