I was wondering what to post about today and then I got this brilliant idea that I should just make another post about art. You just can’t go wrong with that.
Of course there are people who have wrong conceptions about what art is. Look at this fantastic frame from Bronson. A guy who represents chaotic, destructive foreces (I won’t say evil too fast) that is to be tamed. And frankly a prison cell is not enough, Bronson is running out of control, no matter what ‘they’ do. After he got a chance to draw he saw that he liked it. So there we go. A dangerous prisoner is sitting here ‘doing art’ while a guard, out there, in the darkness is set to control him, to watch if he is ‘doing his art’ properly. So they think that this ‘doing art’ has to be pure goodness, crystal clear, creative, pro-social behavior. Just some colors on the paper, no harm, only profit. So he should become a one, fine man eventually.
But no, it didn’t worked out. He was always a confused, ginsberg-character, rejected, he was one of those who leave no broken hearts…
who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts
A. Ginsberg- Howl
I mean Bronson was an artist of a kind after all, see what he did to the ‘art guy’. He brought about the destruction artistically. My question is: do those dark shadow, criminal people have any rights to do art their way? I mean we’re supposed to know this but every time everyone is so surpirsed when a great novelist is a dick and a famous director was an abuser. Yet chaos, destruction, pain, violence is known to result in great art.
E. Munch – Self-portrait in hell
We had so much trouble to come to terms with it. Instead we try to paint artist in brighter colors, excuse their behavior by difficult situation, hard-work, pain, unfairness of the society. This shows how hard we want to belive that art is the medium of the good. Most of the beats lived lifes full of drugs, alkohol, betrayal, abortion and even death (Lucien Carr? Burroughs and Vollmer?). And they did leave their mark, that to many bring only joy, pleasure and insight.
Modern and too controversial art is said not to be art at all. It’s only provocation they say. But everybody loves artists that are dead as soon as they forget events that took place while they were alive and sinning. Hooligans for their contemporaries are now only remembered for they art and judged for the aesthethics only. We want to belive that art is good. It is not. Plato is long dead. They wanted Bronson to ‘do art’ in order to become better, but he did art his way and all hell broke loose. Some of those who are rich in artistic abilities are also:
Followers of obsolete unthinkable trades, doodling in Etruscan, addicts of drugs not yet synthesized, black marketeers of World War II, excisors of telepatic sensitivity, osteopaths of the spirit, investigators of infractions denounced by bland paranoid chess players, servers of fragmentary warrents taken down in hebephrenic shorthand charging unspeakable mutilations of the spirit, officials of unconstituted police states, brokers of exquisite dreams and nostalgias tested on the sensitized cells of junk sickness and bartered for raw materials of the will, drinkers of the Heavy Fluid sealed in translucent anber of dreams.
W. Burroughs – Naked Lunch