I’m intermittently reading Art Practice as Research (2005) by Graeme Sullivan. It’s giving me a much-needed context for the thinking I’m doing at the moment, and is making me ask myself more coherent questions. During the Enlightenment art was seen as a research practice on a par with science:
[...] artistic practice mirrored the mindful activity of these times. For instance, the study of anatomy saw the artist-as-analyst at work in much the same way as the rational philosopher where “dissection interrogated the inert body by violently laying it bare – much like the deductive dismembering of a coherent thought by a syllogism” (Stafford 1996, pp. 36-7). So art was a visual tool for recording. (p.9)
In my last two abortive and confused posts I wondered about the relationship between (spurious) auto-psychoanalysis and the content of my work. I have had in mind that it is my own psychology that I’m researching through my artwork. This seems to tie me in bundles. I think it’s worthwhile keeping in mind that my artwork isn’t necessarily working that close to the bone. Inevitably my own brain comes into it, but that doesn’t mean it’s about my own brain.
In my imaginary future retrospective view of my work there’s no reason to assume I’ll be the star of the show. My work will be. So there’s no reason to assume my imaginary future viewers will be looking at the work to answer questions about me. Of course they won’t be! Of course artwork isn’t about biography! My artwork might be talking about art, about language, about silence, about repetition … about a hundred brilliant things, so why do I keep thinking it has to all be about me, a small and paltry and confused subject?
