Thoughts On Abstraction
Connecting abstraction to meaning.
Even when they land on style and are able to create a marketable body of work, artists are always evolving and looking for new ways to express ourselves in our work through whatever lens we are looking through at the moment. We are living in chaotic times so, finding steady moments is so important. What is keeping my attention focused and helping me be grounded these days is connecting with others seeking that same steadiness and, often, thoughtful exploration of abstraction.
Lately, I’ve been quietly doing this in a way that is really integral to the busy, decorative trees that so many people know me for. I’ve never believed that abstraction comes from nothing, especially for a brand new artist, and I resist what I call “scribble abstracts.” This approach, common in workshops that blend art practice with self-help (just paint your feelings!), may echo what Jerry Saltz labeled “zombie formalism”. Whether or not an artist’s work is likable, profitable, exhibitable or even fully understood, I believe an artist should be able to describe it in terms that reach beyond saying, I just painted my feelings.
The word that helps me understand my own unique desire to move towards abstraction is distillation. I find myself asking, how I can take the smallest, identifiable element of a more representational piece and give it its own path forward? What’s its emotional register and can it sustain itself over time? Can it grow into a body of work that feels coherent and alive? When I use the word unique I don’t mean special ability, but that abstraction can be as singular and authentic to an established practice and a lived experience as any representational image.
Distillation, for me, reveals itself when I look at the world, especially nature, more closely and start to see the places where one thing becomes or meets up with another— this is a concept that I find literal, as viewed in places, as well as metaphorical. These are just a few photos I took this past fall on the trail I walk regularly, but my photo roll is full of this concept that includes endless inspiration for colors, shapes and compositions and brings with it a way to talk about my own human experience. Much of it continually comes back to noticing. Documentation of this with simple photos I take on my phone while in the world is wildly and artistically inspiring for me.
What’s the mystery of your lived experience that piques your curiosity and brings you back to the studio to begin the problem solving that making art presents day after day?
What a lovely and inspiring essay, Dar! So thought provoking.