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08/04/2006: "Philip Pavia"
This afternoon, I sat in the shade under my pergola, and nearly wept as my wife approached with lunch on a tray. The two wrought iron chairs and the little table, covered with thick layers of green paint, made me think of Natalie Edgar and Philip Pavia. In the fall, I’d been over to where they were living, and they’d given me this set they had used for many years, for breakfast on their balcony. They also gave me two Venetian glass chandeliers, and, now as I sit thinking about it, the most troubling gift of all – Philip’s tool box, with all his palette knives, his pencils, his chalks, measuring sticks, and coils of aluminum armature wire.
Philip has been a part of my life for the last twenty five years. He was always old, but never seemed to age any more. He’d always walked with a cane, and talked like the Godfather, and his laugh was as fresh as it had always been as we sat drinking wine among the boxes of things he was getting rid of. They were moving back to New York, having sold their top floor apartment in Pietrasanta at the very moment an elevator they’d asked for twenty years ago had finally been installed.
I never saw him again. He died in April, going out with a bang at ninety four, doing a show at OK Harris, and getting written up all over the world. It’s hard to know how much someone affects the world when you’re having a glass of wine with them and talking about how the Euro has driven prices up in Italy. But as you distance yourself, and read what people have to say about someone like this, you start to see how history is made, and how close each of us is to having an influence on it.
Pavia lived in Paris before the war, and befriended Henry Miller. Coming back to New York in 1938, he founded a place called the Club, and published a magazine called It Is. Not a big circulation. It was just…it was just conversations between DeKooning, Jackson Pollack, and Franz Kline, nothing special. One day it would be about nothing, nothing whatsoever, just written down as it happened, without a strategy. Another the concepts of the New York school crystallized into statements that would symbolize the entire movement. Who were Mercedes Matter, Jack Tworkov and Landes Lewitin? Who was Tom Hess? I don’t know, ignorant as I am, I just know that history remembers the few, and not the whole group who formed what made the few famous.
Mortality is on my mind right now. Artists are, and then they are no more. How much of an impact are they going to have? How much impact are we who want to call ourselves artists going to have? Can we buy ourselves an impact by putting full page ads into Artnews or Art in America magazines? Of course we can. Does this say anything about how good we are? To the readers, it does, because the ads, the pictures, sink into their consciousness permanently even if the work is mediocre. I walked past a sculpture in Fort Lauderdale a few months back, in the garden of an apartment complex, and recognized the artist from an ad I’d seen years ago in Artnews. I wouldn’t have put this in my yard if you gave it to me, the concept was so pitiful, the fingerprint of the artist’s hand nowhere to be found, but it was made of stainless, made to last, and someone paid a lot for it, which means it’s going to be there until they tear the building down, and then find its way into a museum.
Last summer, I had a small dinner party in my front yard, and invited a gallerist who’d been dying to sit down and talk with Pavia. There were just six of us, Philip, Natalie, my wife Irenka, the gallerist Marco, and an absolutely beautiful Polish girl named Virginia. I mention that because Marco became glued to Philip the moment we sat down, and she was his dinner partner for the evening. He proposed a loud and eloquent toast, to Pavia the Maestro of the New York school, and ignored Virginia for rest of the night. The language became a problem, as Philip retreated into not speaking Italian, and Marco didn’t speak English. He started nudging me to translate. Somehow, the evening flowed on, and nothing went drastically wrong, but the thought came to me that for all these years, Philip had just been Philip, and to Marco, he was somebody else. Or that in getting too used to his mischievous grin, and the sparkling eyes, perhaps it was me that had forgotten who he was.
There was always his passion, and at times it was hard to be around. I was happy he didn’t explode at Marco. Philip wasn’t one to mince words. A woman called Amaranth walked up to our table at the bar one day, and politely asked if she could sit with us. This was a walking glom on artist, a person who spent every waking minute trying to hobnob with collectors and well known artists. We’ve all seen these people.
“No!” he said emphatically.
“Why not?” she said, “we’re friends.”
“No, we are not,” he said, raising his voice. “I’m trying to have a conversation, and you’re intruding!” People turned to stare.
Amaranth was gone before he finished speaking, not wanting anyone to see this exchange. Pretending as she passed another table that he wasn’t speaking to her. These outbursts were not unusual for Philip, always saying what everyone around him wanted to say, but was afraid to. He could make people sitting with him very uncomfortable, but the memories of these incidents become the chili peppers among all the mediocre exchanges I’ve ever been there to bear witness to. Powerful, and rare.
Philip in the studio was dangerous even to his friends. He’d be walking around and around what looked like a pile of broken rocks on a table, and would suddenly move in to change the position of one of them. Without looking up, he’d say,
“Andrew, what do you want?” I might tell him I just came to say ‘hi’.
“Another time. I’m busy!” It wouldn’t pay to hesitate in leaving.
If you read the conversations recorded in back issues of ‘It Is’, sometimes reprinted in early copies of Artnews, you’ll see that this directness, this total lack of political correctness, in conversations between artists, was what dominated the abstract expressionist movement. Pavia as instigator, Pavia as catalyst, brought out the best and the worst in people; he brought out their passion. That was the reason for the Club’s existence, and it needed someone with an unusually strong character to move personalities and get their strongest ideas recorded.
Absolutearts and this forum has the potential to move people into passionate discussion of arts issues if we can just take our masks of politeness off, and let it all hang out. If we do that, not only will we stop massaging each other into a hypnotic and powerless state, but perhaps even draw other people to this arena to see the passion that moves us. Passion is after all, what’s missing most from ipod twenty first century life. It just might be that if we display our passion, we will draw spectators to our debates like Artnews was drawn to ‘It Is’ many years ago, before the former became the advertising rag that it is today.
I don’t believe the greatest art movements were planned or orchestrated, ‘created’, if you will. In the past, perhaps a conductor, like Peggy Guggenheim, would find one, and get the artists to play in harmony. The creation of art movements is a new phenomenon, and revolves not around a real ‘movement’, but around the public’s belief that there is one, and the commercial exploitation of that belief. One looks into the past for an example of something real, and then creates a facsimile to mass market today. The restaurant business has done this with chains of restaurants decorated as if they were ‘working man’s home cookin’ spots’, where the walls are decorated with wooden farm implements, and the tables have red checked table cloths. The menu, and the decoration, is the same all over America, and the ambience, the perception, makes the food taste almost as if it really were home cookin’. Like the lighting, the architecture, the articles and the presentation make schlock look almost as if it really was fine art.
The New York school was a real movement. Perhaps the last one. Pop art didn’t have the depth, or the wide span, that the artists frequenting the Club did, and there wasn’t a common place like that where they all met. Conceptualism was about hiding the source of the artists’ inspiration from the public, not printing their most intimate conversations about it. What is now printed in the art journals is sifted, sorted, and carefully placed to lend credibility to some ‘movement’, whereas ‘It Is’ was raw, filled with chaff, and in no way a painstakingly constructed PR effort. It would be hard for us to do this today, because we’re too savvy, and there are too many of us. We desperately want to create the ‘just right’ image for ourselves that we can respect, feel is important, and most of all, keep our words above criticism. Contrast this with a bunch of non college educated post war buddies, sitting around drinking coffee or other things, and talking freely. Insulting each other. Screaming. Storming out, never to return, and then, hours or months later, coming back for more. We are those who would have had a hard time being noticed at the eighth street Club. Philip was there, and alongside of being a participant, he made sure he recorded what was occurring. He could say in an instant, “You don’t know sh*t!” to another artist, to the director of any museum, the editor of any art magazine, or to any collector. The potential is here and now, in this blogspace, for artists to do something similar. When has any of us ever said, “you don’t know sh*t!” to another artist? If we crystallize our passion, we’ll probably make ourselves more eloquent in the process of creating a visibly powerful venue in which to expose our work, and the philosophy that backs it up. But we have to overcome the urge to remain safe from criticism for our demeanor, and say what we really feel, and forget about whether or not someone’s going to be offended. The only comment like that I ever got for a blog was sent to me privately, by e-mail, a rip snorting three page tirade that remains for me…outstanding! A chili pepper! If it didn’t have so many cuss words in it, I’d reprint it.
In the catalogue of a show Pavia organized in Pietrasanta, placing De Koonings alongside middleweights and unknowns like me, he writes,
“The diversity in the show pays off. A silk thread is here. Sculptors are going beyond the physical hardness of their bronze and stone medium. They are reaching a stage where they are more concerned with the spark of life in their own bodies and in its sensibilities. I think this diverse show, shows that their authorship is more important than ‘style’. And that the spark of life in them is their true expression. It lights up their sculpture like another light, or like the light we are told we have in our eyes.”
His own light, the last one of the movement he so faithfully documented, has gone out. But in my mind, it will live forever.
Replies: 24 Comments
on Thursday, September 7th, heather said
andrew-
you are so fortunate to have known- personally- philip. i believe that he is one of the courageous ones, to do, and feel, and speak as his mind directs or even demands him at times, i'm sure! treasure what you had with him. i wish i had a philip.
on Saturday, August 19th, Andrew said
Mark, the loss I feel is personal and not likely to enrage me because of what you or anyone else has to say here. And Philip, if he's looking down, enjoyed debate, and would have been fascinated by the responses you all have written down here. Not that he would neccesarily agree! It would have been interesting to hear what he would have had to say, but no matter what, know that in spite of his roughness, he was a generous man in spirit who did a lot for other people.
on Thursday, August 10th, Jackson said
Pollock not Pollack guys
on Wednesday, August 9th, Mark said
I must apologize to Andrew; you have lost someone and that is a sad thing, and I got caught up in the whole rudeness thing and forgot that, and in doing so I have been rude myself. I am sorry for your loss Andrew, I know the feeling of loss having lost my father and brother within six months of each other, though it was long ago they are both missed. Loss of family or friend is hard. Perhaps Pavia is looking down at your blog and our comments and giving his strong opinion.
on Wednesday, August 9th, josé freitas cruz said
Picking up on what has been posted here so far and calling on a very interesting contribution by Gary to a previous blog (by Michael Corbin), I’d say that even in those cases where there is an understanding and recognition amongst peers, resorting to rudeness and yelling does not favour communication.
Thinking back on the fellow I told you about I can see how there are two different moments that I merge into a single mental image of him. There are the times when he’s obnoxious and keeps me on my toes – insecure, questioning, doubting, fearful, lost, though never really angry because I’ve gotten to know him and his moods. And there are the moments when we manage to sit down and talk and we go quietly over the things he yelled at me on the previous occasion. Both aspects make up the man. Without the first, the second may not seem like the sweet reward it is. I think this is what Andrew is talking about, and to loose somebody such as that is, well…
That the moments of rudeness happen when my friend is intoxicated or tense is of no concern to me. That he believes that he must be intoxicated to allow the genius to pour out of him is of even less concern. My respect and admiration for him would never allow me to be so shallow as to suggest that he be someone else. I live my life, he lives his, and we both bring different things to the table when we manage to get there. Sometimes we have a feast, he’ll go back with his memories, I’ll go back with mine. When we meet again we always find our friendship has grown – if he yells again he knows I press the ‘pause button’ in my mind and move on and he waits for the ‘fast forward’ moment when we meet again.
People aren’t easy to deal with as it is, artists even less. We often hear it said that artists are sensitive fellows, but sensitive need not mean weak and we need to learn how to go about the life we have chosen with a bit more guts. If we want to learn and grow as artists we’ll necessarily come face to face with others, and at some stage with somebody who will not have the patience or disposition to put up with our s**t and say so to our face – the question is will we have the stomach to press the ‘pause button’ and does this somebody generate in us the curiosity to wait for the ‘fast forward’ moment when communication can resume?
on Tuesday, August 8th, Mark said
HHHMMMMMMMM! Drinking, getting drunk and drinking some more and still creating great art? That's it, that's what I am doing wrong! I am not drunk enough. Sorry, but there was so much refrence to drinking in Hyacinthe's comment I feel I need a drink. Bourbons my choice. I have had many great teachers in art even though I have never met most of them. But I wonder would they tell me now that the key to success is drinking? No, I think not. I have read many a book on the artists Hyacinthe mentioned and I respect many of them and thier ideas, yes there was a lot of drinking but not to help them create art, but because life was hard and so was success, the drinking, like it or not was a form of "whinning." No one gets drunk to be a better artist. I am sure that is not what Hyacinthe ment to say. What she ment to say that back then men were men and women were women and those of us today are just whinners when they can't be a success, and back then rudeness was the rule and that was good. Rudeness, too, is a form of whinning. And to quote Bambi! God how Disney makes me shudder. "If you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all," is not what we say here but say your piece with respect is all. One can make one's opinion heard and still be kind, still show respect, rudeness is lack of respect for those mightier then us and those who have not yet reached our level. In my thirty plus years of art and fifty plus years of life I have come across the rude and the generous, the suportive and those who felt they must tell you what they think, even when unasked for, because they are honest people and must inject their opinion whether it was good or not, as if they know more (when in truth if they didn't they would explode). The rude are rude to cover weakness and nothing more, to seem better or have more knowledge then others. To look back at what once was is fine in an historic perspective, but what was will never be again and thank the stars for that, why go backward. Lets take the good from the past remember the bad so as not to repeat and move forward creating our own movement of art that encompasses all who wish to contribute and not just for a few elite drunks who hide their insecruities with rudeness. "Drunk with eyes wide open."?????? I have never been THAT drunk I guess.
on Tuesday, August 8th, Hyacinthe Baron said
The adage is from Bambi when his mother says: "Thumper if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all." Here is implied something sorely missing in interractions today, especially on the internet and that is RESPECT.
My generation has always taken those words seriously, and always respected those who have accomplished.
Of course many go on to teaching full time while keeping up with the idea that they can still develop and execute their "own" work. Within the academic world there are always opportunities for exhibition within the closed context. Here is the breeding ground for Curators. Many of these go on to put together exhibits in museums and such and remember the teachers who are so locked in to the working world.
Reality check in visual art seems to be that art must come first and work for a living second.
That was certainly the case with DeKooning and Pollack and their compadres. The Cedar Bar by the way I believe was two doors down from my flat on Christopher Street and subsequently became the StoneWall Inn. They all hung out by the way at the White Horse Tavern where many a young woman such as myself who were filled with awe at their gigantic figures and presence made ourselves very available to these artists who worked as moving men during the day, painted most of the night and drank the rest away.
I don't recall Pavia, though I remember you asking me about him Andrew, but he sounds so typical of that group. They were all worth knowing and hanging out with because they were men and they were not afraid to make committments to their art. They were frustrated, they tried everything, copied every style, searched deep into their drunken selves to find their form of expression and succeeded.
They never whined at lack of success as many artists take the opportunity to do on this site. They perservered, worked harder than many others I have known and reaped greater rewards than many others.
These guys, as I call them, inspired me to keep after my dreams and to take success in stride and go forward to the next phase. They knew how to have revelations and precious aha moments.
If a drunken Pollack pied all over a canvas he had unstretched and thrown to the floor, it was not wasted. He recognized more in that action and was never afraid to follow through. Drunk, with eyes wide open. Not afraid to admit that he wasn't very good at figures or landscape or even had a style of his one. He was not afraid to pick up on a moment that offered possibilities.
If a drunken DeKooning hated the painting of a woman he had on his easel he was not afraid to wipe her out, and find the remnants and develop them and wipe them out again and bring forth a new expression of an old subject. He had complete confidence in his draftsmanship.
Now there seems to be a generation who are afraid to go with their convictions, who feel failure is their only reward or have so little respect for previous art makers that they refuse to use any form of art standard but prefer to do as they please and call it art.
Walt I believe you used as an example on one of your blogs a mother and child painted with buffalo dung. Are art teachers now expected to accept such rebellious stands to be accepted? Where is the respect.
Thank you Andrew so much for this wonderful homage. I for one truly appreciate it. I certainly hope on my passing there will be those who will remember me in the way you have Pavia. The stand that you have made for honest appraisals and sincere discussions instead of whining and laments.I agree blogs on art web sites and in particular absolutearts.com are an opportunity to reach such a large audience that it is a pity when lame individuals interfere, or do not address the subject. Art needs to be put back in perspective through sharing of experiences and knowledge.
on Tuesday, August 8th, walt said
I've found that by attempting to stay courteous it tends to be easier to stay on subject. When we are too eager to get to the 'truth' at all costs it often all goes to s**t...as I've often seen it happen here on aa in the past.
Courtesy, in my experience, doesn't mean one can't speak honestly...just means that the tenor is carefully strung. The problem here on aa is not that we have a hard time speaking the truth but that we are so diverse across such a wide range of experience and knowledge. One of the reasons schools work, when they work, is because they organize students around knowledge levels and skill sets so they can speak to each other without having to come down or reach too high to even out the playing field. There should always be some reaching and because of that there will always be some stooping. But the trick is to keep the two reasonably close together. It is hard when a sophomore mangages to find their way into a senior discussion. Often times they hear a word they think they understand (although most likely out of context) and end up at cross purposes to the entire discussion. That happens here a lot and is sometimes the reason that ad homenin accusations begin to fly...which isn't in the least bit helpful.
I heard a story from Robert D'Arista when in grad school. He said De Kooning once visited the show of a rather young painter. The young painter didn't know to whom he was speaking. De Kooning spoke to him about his work very cautiously, gently always asking permission to speak honestly. He didn't really know the young artist and didn't want to screw him up.
On the other hand, at the Cedar Bar I've read he was just as likely to get into a drunken fist fight as anyone else (with the exception of Pollack). There they were all equals.
on Monday, August 7th, Andrew said
I stand corrected.
on Monday, August 7th, Matt said
Can history be repeated? Sure. That's not what I said though. A bygone era as illustrated by this interview Walt supplied us is what I refer to.
www.abartonline.com/html/jrw_writing_ll_1.html
on Monday, August 7th, Andrew said
Sounds like that's what you're trying to do.
on Sunday, August 6th, Mark said
I forgot to mention Andrew that there seems to be an undercurrent of anger to your words, not passion, but something dark, not healthy perhaps. Maybe not, hard to tell in the written word, I could be wrong, but I think not. Rudeness does get reaction, true, but not always honest reaction, just reaction. Crits from others can be helpfull, but being cruel serves no purpose, one can be deeply, truely, and even hard edge honest without being mean.
on Sunday, August 6th, Mark said
Andrew I never reffered to history repeating itself. As for courtesy, you are dead wrong. Rudeness never helps, it does not show honesty, it is a mask for inadequacy, a cover for weakness, a bully who tries to show power when it does not exsist. Being couteous is not dishonest, but respectfull. Your comment says much about you.
on Sunday, August 6th, Andrew said
What Walt says is to be respected, and this comes from all the stuff you've written that I've read here. But let's take a look at who you are, Walt and how you got to the state which makes you say what you say. As a teacher, you find yourself surrounded by students, a group which needs to be controlled, and is notoriously hard to control. One of the main tools you work with is a strong stance against rudeness in any form. What we do most of the time is what makes us who we are, and affects what we say, and the way we say it.
Those of us who are not teachers don't face this particular gamut...we have others. Mark and Matt; History does repeat itself, so I am not of the opinion that Pavia's situation will never emerge again, but that it will in a different guise.
And, there is a reason not to be courteous, if courtesy prevents you from hearing or speaking the truth. It is another layer, like on an onion, that keeps you one step further from the core. The adage, '...if you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all...' could be the motto of our group here on absolutearts, and Paul Dorrel personifies that more than anyone else, so carefully avoiding offense, that sometimes I feel like I'm not even being spoken to.
And skipping quickly to another issue, if we say something others don't like, often times we get no reaction at all. That's poison to the development of an artistic maturity, in that you're slowed down in achieving it. It is also a form of ostricism, passed down from on high, and as such, rude in itself.
Paul's responses to comments make him a likeable guy, but don't give a whole lot of information. I'm not attacking him...he's raised some very important issues, and has started some of the most involving discussions we've had.
The best criticism I've ever gotten, were the ones that were the hardest to listen to, because they were harsh. WetCanvass crits came the closest to that of any I've found, but were still too weak for me. Something in the air of our times...Let's all be nice to one another, supportive. But will doing that make us stronger artists? It's not just crits of work I'm talking about, but those of a way of working, of a way of living, of a way of discussing, of a way of seeing. That's the crit I'm giving you all, in this instant. I think a lot of you are holding back things that in the long run, would be helpful to hear.
Olga, lunch on a tray is often what I bring to my wife as she sits at the table under the gazebo.
on Saturday, August 5th, Matt said
A bygone era which, most likely, won't be repeated. What a privilege to have known such a person.
An interesting blog Andrew with some good points and I think I hear what you are saying. Although I have to agree with Walt that there is no reason not to be courteous.
on Saturday, August 5th, Michael Fornadley said
Question should be asked to who are we trying to communicate with our art and if not accepted is it invalid. Personally I too would like to see more passion involved with the arts instead of the quest for that all mighty dollar, see too many artists riding the gravy train producing nandy pandy work. What every happen to taking risks with your work in content and subject matter even if it means failure. For the artists on the fast track it would mean upsetting the powers that provide the ego fulfillment, far too much of a risk, as a result we get the same old, same old, etc. Really getting tired of SAFE work and real frustrated with it getting critic praise or award. Want the secret of getting ahead in the arts, forget about mastering your craft and put on a clown outfit and become a con artist and chances you will go far. With this crowd it is required to be noticed, silly game as it is.
Here on absolutearts any debate to the merit or critique of an artists work even when asked has to be tempered with the ages of the artists involved. By age I mean the experience and actual age of the artists, I would be inclined to be more honest with an artist with the same number of years producing and life experiences as myself. I know their egos can take it, this can be positive for both parties and could produce that passion that Andrew is looking for. Seen a number of good debates and confrontations on this site, and for the most part people did not go to the name callng phase of any heated exhange of ideas or opinions. For the sake of argument is it a line that should be crossed or are we too civilized for our own good.
on Saturday, August 5th, jose said
Andrew, what I was trying to say is that on the internet we are beyond the realm of 'the naked ape' and that the kind of engagement we have with people such as the Philip Pavias of this world requires super human powers of restraint from our side not to be offended and respond with hurt or anger.
So far we haven't seen this happen. Apart from the truly crass and empty remarks of anonymous readers there have been some positively delivered comments that have prompted responses of indignation and, or, a lack of response, suggesting hurt. As human beings we need to be able to read the signs and the signs become harder to read over the internet unless the guy is a remarkable writer and manages to convey to you in his criticism his ultimate intention to help you out of the morass he sees you in.
On the plane, on the train or on the bench feeding the pigeons the guy sitting next to you has a whole set of body language that helps you to read beyond his words... if you're an open minded guy and you're feeling particularly receptive on that day you'll read those signs and consider his point of view. On the internet all that is gone and Desmond Morris would probably add a few more chapters to his book.
I do agree with you, however, that it would be great to hear constructive criticism of our work on this forum. Amongst a core group within aa it actually is already possible, but it would require that those coming at us from out of the blue make a tiny effort to provide the extra signals we can’t see through the screen.
The internet is an amazing contradiction: it fuels the idea that we are coming closer. The reality, though, is that it’s speed and code of conduct – fast, short messages, anonymity – leave little margin for the extra signals that would reassure us of ultimate intentions and so only contribute to keep us further apart – in a state of delusion about our belonging to some global village.
This is all very new, and because the younger generations overtook us in mastering the technology this is the anarchy we are living in – where childish anonymity still rules. A community – a village – comes into being through the individuals who make it up. Individuals who show a face and share the results of their achievements within the community and are therefore accepted (if not always loved). The real Global Village is still in the making and will grow out of this very same principle. In the not too distant future those who choose to waste their energies anonymously will find that they belong to no such thing for they have contributed nothing of value to their peers and the generations who follow.
on Saturday, August 5th, Andrew said
I think from the comments so far that what I meant regarding gloves off, passionate directness, is being mistaken for pointless name calling. In previous blogs, there has been some lively discussion, for example in Michael Corbin's last one where people got wound up about defining art. That last lengthy paste by Gary is brilliant! Some said it isn't worth talking about, just bury yourselves in your work and let others define things. And then there's Pavia, very busy talking about and defining in words what was happening, and then defining it again with actions in his studio. Artists after all, define what art is in the moment they produce it. Passion, or the lack thereof, is visible the moment after. There's a big gap between someone commenting on what I do as a figurative marble carver saying, 'Marble bathroom tiles for sale', as someone who doesn't like my work once did, and more tangible criticism that I could actually use - which I've never gotten. The internet isn't the place for some types of discussion, and yet, sometimes, you don't want to discuss things with people you see every day. Ever meet a person on a plane or train, who tells you something really personal, because they know they're never going to see you again? The internet provides that, a sort of virtual strangership, which opens up some opportunities as it closes down others. I think we need to explore this.
on Friday, August 4th, jose freitas cruz said
Andrew, for something like that to work it requires some kind of implicit respect for [and amongst] all parties involved – not respect in the sense of being nice to one another or politically correct, but in the sense of recognition of the validity of each other’s projects and endeavours.
Blatant disregard for an opinion or a stance, without prior mutual recognition of each of the parties involved in such an exchange is useless – a pure waste of time and energy – and leads to nothing constructive. It only acquires purpose when [for whatever reason] the one who is so violently called to reason has accepted his aggressor as someone worthwhile ‘listening’ to.
One of my mentors I mentioned in an earlier post sounds pretty much like your friend Philip. I still remember the times, when I would watch him yell obnoxiously at people around him and [mis]took him for a crazy fool - the people he yelled at appeared always at a loss with what to do with so much verbal abuse. I knew, through friends we had in common, that he disliked my work and so I watched him from the safety of my table at the Café before heading off to work. One day, however, he approached my table, quite purposefully, and told me in the face that he disliked my work and felt that the subject matter I was exploring was feeble in its possibilities.
What is my point? I had a face, I had information: He was eccentric, yes, but he was said to be one of the few left over from a generation of artists I admired, and he had the guts to come up and say what he thought to my face. I was able to respond looking him in the eye and inviting him to talk over it over a glass of wine. We became very close ever since and he still yells at me. This, I’m afraid Andrew, is what is lacking and difficult to recreate on these blogs. There is generally no face [no name] and no information to be had on some of the guys who usually react with more venom to what is being said and so the basis for an honest debate with such people doesn’t exist, and responding to them becomes a waste of our time and energy.
All is not lost, though, and I think that as Mark and Walt have pointed out, what some have achieved here on this forum is as close enough to an honest exchange and debate of ideas as is possible given the lack of our physical presences which would validate our going for the jugular in a meaningful way – a way that comes from the heart.
A great blog... and, oh! what a lucky man you are [as in the ELP song] to have met such a figure.
on Friday, August 4th, Andrew said
That's a great interview. I highly reccomend it!
on Friday, August 4th, walt said
By the way, I found an interesting interview with Pavia if anyone is interested.
www.abartonline.com/html/jrw_writing_ll_1.html
on Friday, August 4th, walt said
there is no reason not to be courteous. I have never gotten a handle on what is politically correct. I guess it depends on which political party you belong. But courtesy and fairmindedness is an essential to any good discussion or crit, no matter how passionette one becomes. I've slammed my fist down many a night at the pub in disagrement with some friends idea. But the evening always ended peacefully and friendly.
Especially on such an open ended venue as aa. With students and artist friends at a local pub I will say more or less what I think and feel. But I'm afraid that this group is far two diverse and often times "can't handle the truth". There has to be a toughmindedness from the start or it devolves to name calling and the thread gets lost so easily as we have often seen when folks try to be brutally honest.
No, I must disagree. I don't think the web is the place for those kinds of artistic discussion. I don't think it can every really gel here. Too public. But, it is a good place to run into other artists who have deeper passions and a stronger constitution who would be worth meeting for drinks and a good argument once in a while. Problem is we live all over the place. The web is supposed to cure that problem but it really doesn't. In fact there are times when I think it is such a tease as to be disruptive. I should be spending more time with people who live nearby where I can see them face to face and therefore really have a sense of what they are saying. It is always better when you can actually smell the beer or wine on their breath as they are deconstructing your argument in front of everyone while you feel like a fool.
But Andrew, it is a great thing to have known someone like Pavia. It is an important thing to find connections to that art of a previous generation... to just hang out with them and see them as real human beings rather than famous photos in a history book. I studied with Robert D'Arista who was around the 8th street group. Pavia may have remembered him. He was a protege of Phillip Guston and for a while shared a studio with Franz Kline. Later he taught at American University in Italy and Wash. DC. and taught at Boston Univ. for a year while another Professor was on sabbatical. I also spent two years working with James Weeks from the California (SF) Colorist movement... you know, Diebenkorn, Park and others. I sat through some really deep crits with these folks and not once could I call them anything but curteous and kind. Honest, but never cruel. I've listened to crits by some faculty that were simply cruel and unusal punishment and served no purpose whatsover. But these older profs were gentlemen. They could clarify or wipe away your ideas in a few words and a smile. But they never left you bleeding and always had a suggestion or a principle that held the nugget of a new direction.
on Friday, August 4th, olga said
Ha-ha Andrew! Dream of men...".. wife approached with lunch on a tray".
on Friday, August 4th, Mark R Brockman said
I am no fan of political correctness, I feel it hides a persons true feelings. But nor am I a fan of rudeness. I believe a conversation can be deep, animated and exciting, but still be civil. What once was, such as what took place in the fifties, can never be again, in fact it was the attitutes of many artists back then that created the canyon between the artist and the public. So maybe what once was should not be again. Art movements had their place as well, but in this day and age there are to many types of work hanging side by side and that I feel is a good thing. An art movement in the past may have just happened but in todays world it would be created intentionaly, (as happens in music, movies and books) and that would be unpleasant, artificial and misleading.
This is a great place for conversation, and we should speak our mind without insult. My ideas and opinions are mine and no one needs to agree with them, but I see no need to be mean about expressing them. Artist of stature seem to feel they can say what is on thier mind and the rest be damned as if they are all that matters. So be it, if I should ever reach a level of that kind of stature (not likely) and when I pass I hope peole do not speak of my unbridled opinions but rather that I had good ideas, good opinions but was willing to hear what others had to say as well. One can be direct but not unkind. I do not know of Pavia's life and I mean no insult to him for I can not judge a man by other people's words, so I mean no disrespect to him either. But no man, no artist is better then another and none have the right to look down on others in any way, to treat them badly or with insult.
So lets have good strong opinions and not worry about hurting someones feelings, but does rudeness, unkindness, and a dictorial attitued need to be? NO. This is just my strong opinion on the subject and if you don't like it, go $#%* yourself, :) :D