Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Portrait of the Artist?


I just finished reading a basically sound book, Gigi Rosenberg's The Artist's Guide to Grant Writing.  But I'm still stuck on a sentence in the middle: "An artist statement reveals your philosophy, why you do what you do - your themes, your processes, your obsessions, and all the other details your audience needs to know."

Now, to be fair, I would not for a moment deny the importance of an artist statement to grant writing, which is the subject of her book.  And a little later on, she has a very valid point about how the process of writing such a statement can help you understand and focus your own work.  But why does "your audience" need to be told about "your themes, your processes, your obsessions"?

Is it the artist that matters?  Or is it the art?

There is a great line in 1776.  (Okay, there are, at a very rough estimate, 2,347 great lines in 1776, but for our purposes right now there's only one that matters.)  Thomas Jefferson has drafted the Declaration of Independence, and now every member of Congress has to put in his two cents about wouldn't it be better if you included this, or took that out, or changed this word, or…  Through it all, Jefferson sits there, silent, agreeing to every change.  Finally, in exasperation, John Adams demands when Jefferson is going to speak up for his own work.  And Jefferson answers:

"I had hoped that the work would speak for itself."

Art is self-expression, yes.  But that is its process, not its purpose.  It's the difference, if you will, between agent cause and final cause.

Which brings me to my favorite painting, Rembrandt's The Painter in His Studio.


Given that we don't even see the painting here, just the artist, it might seem an ironic choice for this post.  But the painting is so much bigger than he is.  And the painting is in the light (one could argue that it is creating the light) while he is in shadow.  And Rembrandt didn't provide us with an artist statement.

Looking at this, I think of St. Augustine.  In a sermon on John the Baptist, he wrote:

John is the voice that lasts for a time; from the beginning Christ is the Word who lives for ever.  Take away the word, the meaning, and what is the voice? … When the word has been conveyed to you, does not the sound seem to say: The word ought to grow, and I should diminish?  The sound of the voice has made itself heard in the service of the word, and has gone away, as though it were saying: My joy is complete.  Let us hold on to the word.