| "I am fifty years old, and I have always lived free; let me finish my life still free. When I am dead they will have to say of me: He never belonged to any school, to any church, to any institution, to any academy, above all not to any regime, unless it were the regime of liberty." - Gustave Courbet, 1870. |
I have since had the opportunity to read a great deal about this painting. These readings have increased my appreciation for certain aspects of it - its composition, its meaning, and its place in history, etc., but these verbal explorations have in no way altered my fundamental feeling for it.
The highly educated, the uneducated, and all those in between have opinions to express about art. Seldom, though, is anyone's opinion powerful enough to cause the appearance of a completed artwork to be altered. In cases when this actually happens, it is more the power of the person behind the opinion, than the opinion itself, that brings about the change. Generally, regardless of what is said about them, artworks do not change. Paintings, in fact all of the visual arts, being objects, have an existence totally independent of the words said about them.
In my ideal world, there would be art creators, and there would be art appreciators. The creators would enjoy making objects, and the appreciators would enjoy looking at, and commenting on them. While there would be a close affiliation, the two parties would agree to establish and maintain a conscious barrier between themselves, recognizing and respecting that their differences, their right to autonomous actions, and their separate contributions were both required to bring a wholeness to the enjoyment and interest of art for everyone concerned.
In my ideal world, no one's income, notoriety, power or influence would
depend on making art, or talking about it. In this one aspect of life,
people could express themselves freely in works or words, and not worry
about what effect this might have on their, or another's well being. The
oppressive pursuits of gaining status or struggling for survival
could be reserved for the more practical areas of life. Art then, instead
of being a means to an end, would become an elevating diversion;
a pure recreation; a food for the soul.
| "But the times belong to the spiteful, and we talk to the mute and the deaf" - Theodore Rousseau, 1859. |
While I know this world will never exist, amazingly enough, I can unilaterally act as though it does. I do not need the whole to be in place before playing my part. I can be a creator. I can easily separate the act of creating from the pursuing of income, notoriety, power and influence by choosing a lifestyle that allows it. I can separate the act of creating from the words that might follow by simply creating, and not worrying one way or the other about what might be said. I can be a free and independent maker of objects by simply choosing to be so.
That I never get rich, famous, or even noticed for what I make is the
equivalent of artistic death, and I know that such a death likely awaits
me in this Arcadia of my making; but so too does artistic freedom, and
I am willing to suffer the one to know the other.
