Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Art as a Universal Language, Part 2: Artist as Historical Storyteller

As I pointed out in Part 1 of this series (Art as a Universal Language, Part 1:  Why Understanding Visual Art is Essential), engaging with visual art of different cultures helps us understand our similarities as a human race.  It helps us develop empathy, and thereby hopefully contributes to a more peaceful global society.

In this, Part 2, I’d like to explore how certain contemporary artists use visual imagery to reveal historical realities.  One of the most acclaimed contemporary artists working today is Chinese American artist Hung Liu.  I have represented Hung Liu for more than a decade, and she continues to be one of the most inspirational artists I have ever known.  She grew up in China under Mao, during the Cultural Revolution.  Her father, an intellectual, had been sent to a labor camp, and Hung only saw him again shortly before he died.   Hung was sent to the countryside to work in the fields with Chinese peasants for four years, as part of the “re-education” system in China.  For a fantastic description of Hung Liu’s life in art, go to this link:  Smithsonian Journal of American Art article on Hung Liu.





Hung Liu, Western Wind
oil on linen, 80 x 80"
Turner Carroll Gallery




Hung’s story is rich and complex, and she dedicates her life to giving the downtrodden people she  worked with a life of beauty in her paintings.  She paints from historical photographs, because for Hung, “Every day is Memorial Day, and every day is Thanksgiving.”  She is grateful that she escaped the turmoil of Maoist China, but she simultaneously immortalizes those who did not, so we will never forget that their struggle.  In “Western Wind,” Hung paints a difficult journey in a manner of grace and beauty.  The drips represent the blurring of  memory.  




mixed media, 1989
Permanent Collection, Dallas Museum of Art



In her painting “Goddess of Love, Goddess of Liberty,” Hung references the historic treatment of women in China.  She reminds us of the  atrocious practice of binding their feet.  Hung was inspired to create this painting after seeing a photograph of a woman who had removed her bandages to show her tiny, 3 inch feet, permanently mangled by being bound.   Hung shows us that unlike European images of female power and strength, in China, women were as subservient and “invisible” as the blank blackboard hanging next to the painting.  The broom in this work references the brooms women used to sweep up the blood after the Tiananmen Square massacre.




Hung Liu, “September
jaquard tapestry
2014
75 x 75”
Turner Carroll Gallery

Even when it isn’t immediately apparent, there is always a strong historical reference in every painting Hung Liu creates.  She feels a sense of urgency to document historically altering events.  “September”, though an exquisitely gorgeous image, was created to memorialize the tragic events at the 9/11 World Trade Center.  Hung uses a Song dynasty bird in this image, emerging through the body of a beautiful Chinese bride, to represent the planes and the towers.  She uses her images to recount monumental historic events, but she can’t help but to “heal” the event by making her images beautiful.  In doing so, she actively participates in our understanding of history.  She says:


History to me is not a noun. It’s a verb. History is constantly changing… You can rewrite history; history was written by the winners. In China, specifically I remember during the Cultural Revolution, one high-ranking comrade was somehow ousted as the public enemy. Way before PhotoShop or the digital age, there were images that were erased from historical photographs. When you saw that, you were shocked at first. How could you change history? He was there, he was with you, but they erased him completely. In China, we always had great slogans: “Serve the people heart and soul.” But who are those people when it comes down to it? Who are the heroes? I learned that history is a verb, and when you have new discoveries in terms of evidence, materials, and witnesses, new kind of recall, or maybe a regime change, history can be rewritten. So that [realization] really liberated me.

For the most comprehensive book on Hung’s art and life (in Chinese and English), click here.



tf_thewall-smHR.jpg
“The Wall” (“Oltro il mure delle parole”)
intaglio etching, a la poupee
ap/30, 29.75 x 22”
Turner Carroll Gallery


Some artists use iconography from the history of art, as Visual Code.  Traian Filip, Head of Romanian State Engraving Studios under dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, used symbolism to relay the suffering of Romanians under Ceausescu, and ultimately to orchestrate his own escape. “Oltri il muro delle parole” (After the wall of the words), portrays Traian’s assessment of life in Romania during Ceausescu’s Communist regime.  He places the dictator’s head on the body of a starved dog (Romania), with a birdcage on his head, symbolizing that “his thoughts were bought.”  A self portrait of the artist with a sword, caught between the oppressive dictator’s “wall of words” and the sword, shows how trapped he felt.  In the background, an angel juggles and the floating ship represents a hope for escape.  There are many more examples of symbolic cries for help in this etching.  When it was shown in Italy, it was purchased by the Vatican Museum.   Romanian story of oppression.  

Traian exhibited imagery such as this, throughout the world, to tell the Romanian story of oppression.  He could not attend these exhibitions himself, but his images told the secrets of the repressive Ceausescu regime.  When Filip’s etchings were exhibited in Sweden, the Swedish government understood his visual messages and initially helped him escape.  Filip’s highly symbolic images are now found in museums throughout the world.  I wrote (with Michael Carroll) a book about Traian, titled Traiain Alexandru Filip:  His Art and Life.  




Traian Filip, Il Chaos
a la poupee intaglio etching
Turner Carroll Gallery


Traian writes an Italian inscription in this work, that translates as “The sky, the earth, and between the earth and the sky--chaos.”  He places the likeness of the Romanian dictator on the body of a child riding a rocking horse and donning a dunce cap.  Meanwhile, a wicked-looking cat claws off the face of the harlequin, aka the fool, or every-man, in traditional iconography.  Traian speaks volumes about the ridiculous political situation in Romania, with this etching.



Traiain Filip
"La Pace del Nulla" ("The Peace of Nothing")
a la poupee intaglio etching
1985
19.5 x 19.4”
Turner Carroll Gallery


This etching is titled “The Peace of Nothing.”  Traian shows the desperation of the times, with hungry child and dog lying on the floor beneath the empty table.  The bird, as if the soul, has already flown away, and the city of Bucharest is swallowed by a deluge in the background.  





Traian Filip “Massacre of the Innocents
mixed media on wooden door
1993
72 x 31”


“Massacre of the Innocents” takes on an even more grim meaning today, considering the recent barbarism of ISIS.  For Traian, this painting was his quintessential statement of the historical trauma the Ceausescu regime inflicted upon Romania’s innocents. He painted the painting not on a traditional surface, but on an old door.  He did this to show his willingness to sacrifice everything--including warmth and shelter--to express the desperation of Romanians.




2013, wood, paint
Turner Carroll Gallery

Alan Rath and Shawn Smith document our contemporary history in the U.S., by creating objects that portray our immersion in digital culture.  Americans spend massive amounts of time (up to 11 hours per day, according to a recent Nielsen report), “watching” electronic screens.  Televisions, computers, smart-phones, game consoles--these devices have become our primary mode of communication with the outside world.   Shawn Smith spent his urban, 1980s, childhood, playing video games.  The pixelated Atari game was his window into the natural world.  Describing his gaming life in an interview in Wired magazine,  “I’d never been camping, so I thought that’s what it was: wrestling crocodiles living in pixelated lakes, jumping over scorpions,” Smith says. “The whole idea was to avoid nature and win some gold coins.”


Alan Rath “Neo-Watcher IV” 2001, mixed media sculpture with video Turner Carroll Gallery

Trained as an engineer at M.I.T., Alan Rath embodies the new artist/scientist meme.  His digital, robot-like sculptures “watch us back,” as we watch them. To incorporate how the concept of singularity is ever present in our contemporary society, Rath’s sculptures do not repeat themselves; they evolve and change as they progress.  

From documentarian to commentator, the artist depicts history in a visual language all people can understand, regardless of the language they speak. In so doing, the artist creates a transparent global society, and reveals integral realities that might otherwise go unseen.



End, Part 2
725 Canyon Road
Santa Fe, New Mexico 87501
United States of America
turnercarroll.com

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Art as a Universal Language, Part 1: Why Understanding Visual Art is Essential


As the owner of Turner Carroll Gallery, I spend a lot of time talking and writing about artwork by the phenomenal artists I represent. Lately, I've been consumed by the destruction of some of civilization's greatest artifacts.  Ancient art is one of my passions, and I am devastated to see sites all over the Middle East, one after the other, lost forever. The Buddhas of Bamiyan, Nimrud, Aleppo, Palmyra--all contained visual information that helped us decipher the values and wisdom of the ancient civilizations that created them. With the loss of these artifacts comes the loss of our ability to understand the important messages contained in the history of the cultures that shaped our own.  With these “irreversible acts of annihilation,...the entirety of humanity...loses a piece of its memory as surely as if a slice of our collective brain had been removed by a mad lobotomist.” (Simon Schama, 3/13/15, Financial Times).

•••

Often people remark that they feel visual art is “an inside joke,” filled with its own lingo and mystique.  In reality, visual art is (by nature) the universal symbolic language that can be understood not only by art critics trained in deciphering the meaning of its symbols, but by any human being who cares enough to engage with the image. To ignore the visual image is to make a conscious choice to close oneself to messages other human beings attempt to share.




Cave painting, Rock Shelters of Bhimbetka, India
     
Ancient cave painting, Chauvet Cave

Throughout the history of civilization, humans have told stories visually, to communicate with other humans.  Stone Age cave paintings, Mesopotamian cylinder seals, Egyptian tomb reliefs, Native American petroglyphs, religious icons, political propaganda posters, Communist Era Social Realism, and contemporary images of social empowerment all present themselves as creative manifestations of our shared human experience.  




Ancient Mesopotamian low relief image, depicting governance, religion, rites of civilization



Ancient Egyptian relief image depicting love
Human beings have always needed to procure food, governance, emotional connection, and spiritual beliefs to make order of chaotic civilization.  These are the same basic needs human beings possess in contemporary life.  If we take the time to seriously contemplate the art of other cultures, we see that we are one human-kind, and that our similarities far outweigh our social, religious, and political differences.



Thousand armed Avalokitesvara, Budhha of Infinite Compassion
stone Buddhist carvings in Leshan, Sichuan, China.  
(Photo  by McKay Savage)

Navajo drawing by Shemar George

This ancient Chinese carving of Avalokitesvara communicates compassion for all living things. Likewise, a contemporary drawing by a young Navajo boy in the American Southwest uses natural symbols for the four elements to depict the innate harmony of nature.





hl_dandelion11-72.jpg
Hung Liu, China,  “Dandelion 11,”  oil on linen,  2015

Hangama Amiri, Afghanistan, “The Wind Up Dolls of Kabul” 2011

Though from cultures as different as Afghanistan and China, both Hung Liu and Hangama Amiri found the humble dandelion as a symbol of female strength.  Afghan and Chinese cultures might prefer women to be beautiful and graceful, like flowers.  By using the dandelion as an autobiographical symbol in their paintings, these artists show us that while women may be regarded as pretty, fragile, flowers, they are simultaneously strong, stubborn, resilient, and able to spread their essence throughout the world.





Unlike a written or spoken language that takes much time to learn, the pictorial language has immediate impact on both an implicit and an explicit level.  Therefore, if we allow ourselves to engage with the images we see, we can’t help but increase our appreciation for perspectives, cultures, values, and ideas other than our own.  Visual art is the language that helps us realize our interconnectedness in the vastness of the human experience .


This quotation by Mohammed Rabia Chaar, about ISIS's destruction of ancient artifacts in Syria, appeared in the New York Times. "Go and see...how all the ancient (artifacts) have been destroyed and looted, how bulldozers are digging." he said. "The feeling of sickness is growing more and more, day after day….Daesh wants people with no memory, with no history, with no culture, no past, no future."

When we focus on the differences, rather than the similarities, in what the visual language portrays, we disrupt the progress of our global society.  We divide and destroy, rather than enhancing the greatness of humankind.

End of Part 1
Tonya Turner Carroll
Turner Carroll Gallery and Art Advisors
725 Canyon Road
Santa Fe, New Mexico 87501
United States of America