Some say any publicity is better than no publicity. I wouldn’t necessarily concur, but I will say this, one doesn’t make friends without making enemies, for one cannot break the stagnant waters of mundanity without making waves. Assumption and presumption seem to be the order of the day these days, for many the Internet has enabled them to voice their opinion, although unfortunately for some this certainly doesn’t come naturally.

Living in an oppressed and creatively diminished capitalist culture, there are few who dare to breach the unwritten code of culturally induced mind control, and some will always resort to their earliest memories of argumentative discourse. In my case, the most extreme will pour out their most subjective and highly personalised world views upon me, a majority being heavily influenced by the media, religion, politics, the very authoritarian constructs I bring into question with every work I produce. The view of the majority.

Others will resort to insult, glibly defensive remarks, sometimes abusive, mainly derogative, hoping in some way to rile their potential opponent. Both are, as I far as I can perceive, manifestations of projected personality. Using another individual as a focus for their own frustrations with their position in life, their cultural heritage, their understanding of the world, and their lack whereby most events that effect them are beyond their control. It is easier to target an individual than a state, it is simpler to blame the tangible than that which cannot be seen, heard or touched, for only those who represent the institution or body of power are manifest, and for the most part elevated beyond the reach of the common man. 

History does not record those who unquestioningly agree with the status quo, it does not relate the actions and thoughts of the subservient within the evolution of our cultural, scientific, technological, medical, political or artistic movements. Those who wish to remain where they are will be left behind, that is the nature of existence, that is exactly what the authoritarian relies upon. For those without power or influence to argue amongst themselves, and those with, to accept their payment, be it political influence, monetary gain, publicity, the gratuity, is as always the compensation for obedience to systematic control mechanisms established before history was even written. The pinnacle of influence is always mounted upon the empiricism of society, no matter what religion or political persuasion.

I create art to empower myself and others who feel the way I do, I do not create in order to destroy, what I dismantle is not real, what I deconstruct is purely myth. The schism of my own life has left me empowered with reason, whilst yet lacking in physical strength, influence in society, and financially secure. Art is my only home.

Secretly I’m what you might call a sensitive soul, an old fashioned creature somewhat out of place with the modern world, though over the years I’ve managed to build a psychological defence perimeter, an emotional blockade manned by pseudo personalities, armed with the weapons of cynicism and doubt, and blessed with the gifts of foresight and cultural perspective. There are most certainly some advantages that come with age, and for me, personally, one of front runners has to be the amassing of experience. A plethora of emotional exchanges and interactions, both positive and negative. Perhaps this is just one of many reasons that can provide some explanation if not currency for my rather skewed vision of the world; the distance I portray, as many of my art heroes have done in the past, including such characters as the infamous forerunner of Post Modernism himself Marcel Duchamp.

Unlike Andy Warhol who literally kept schtum throughout most of his career, Marcel was as vocal as the next guy, yet it was his work, or rather the actions that embodied his particular artistic communications that take centre stage in art history, rather than the pieces themselves, or to clarify further, the sheer audacity of his actions rather than the actions themselves. Fontaine his most infamous work is essentially a urinal, procured straight from the factory and signed by the factory worker who completed it, R. Mutt. The truth is it isn’t what it is that so upset the arts world at the time, but rather the outrageous belief that by simply placing a lavatory in a gallery Marcel had managed to undermine a vast and mostly ecclesiastical history of elevated thought and supposition in one fell swoop. The genius of the man has been vindicated over the years, in fact almost all post modern art must take some influence from the man who dared to question the autocracy of the arts establishment, and quite rightly, for without this one single action I doubt we’d have experience much more than the tinkering with traditional painting and sculpture offered by movement after movement, before and after Duchamp’s existence.

The gallery space alludes to provide a contextual framework whereby anything placed within or on its hallowed walls must be treated as something more than a collation of form and function, a conduit for expression, a referential medium for the exploration of perception versus meaning, a device or even an arena to simulate discourse and debate. What Duchamp did, what Warhol achieved, as have later artists such as Damien Hirst and even Banksy to a degree, is to force the public to ask the question, ‘what is art?" or rather "is this art?".

I have a confession to make, I am not a natural blogger, I am not a diarist, indeed during my college years I had hardly filled my sketchbooks before venturing forth into another project, I just did it. I used to talk until the cows came home, but more so I would expound upon an idea, a theme, a series of inquiries into anything from personal preference and taste in the arts, music, film, theatre, literature, to the essence of being, the dialect and didacticism of spirituality and religiosity. I’ve talked half a dozen people back out of a bad trip caused by a near lethal batch of strychnine-laced L.S.D, and even recaptured some of their "high" by the break of dawn. I’ve talked myself back off the edge of a cliff on one of those darkest of all dark days. I’ve talked to a blank wall in an empty room when a 17 year old friend of mine died of a brain tumour, it should have been God in there, but there was only silence, and as one rather trite commentator mentioned whilst attempting  to hijack my blog recently, yes silence can be a great comforter, it truly can provide solace. Talk, I’m afraid, is still cheap. Art takes far more effort.

The overtly religious, (or rather those that contact me), seem for the main part to have very little knowledge or perhaps even an intolerance of other faiths than their own. For those without a specific faith, we have to tolerate all of those who do. If I insisted that anyone who refused to wear red socks or a top hat was a blasphemer to my theoretical religion, based upon my own collection of hearsay and diatribe, what would the response be? Derision for the main part, if not even anger in certain circumstances. I neither have the time nor the inclination to respond to organised religious views as a debate for my work, I find the argument irrelevant. For those who have expressed fear of my love of silence, the comforting experience of absolutely nothing, the friendly void that consumes me at my most enlightened moments, I am sure you can find strong parallels in more Eastern religions, try Zen Buddhist philosophy for starters. Peace is a brother of silence.

I also receive offensive remarks, short and bitter rants constructed in order to rile me, to dissuade me from continuing with my work. I neither have the inclination nor the time nor the energy to debate highly subjective and overly personal abuse or veiled enquiry into what I do, why I do it, and how it makes others feel. I simply reassure myself, as those who have come before me, that if one is aiming for the vanguard of their remit, if they are achieving the results they desire, they will receive commentary, both positive and negative, in equal measure.

I write this blog to provide an insight into what I do, the answers are all there, if one takes the time to read what I have written, and forms a cogent argument, based upon an atavistic approach to our culture, our existence, our perception of the reality we communally interact within, I will engage.

Fortunately I have been approached by many with a far more positive and lucid vision of what I and many similar artists do. We are not in the business of pleasing the majority, we do not "craft", we are not here to provide visual pleasantries, but to inspire those who have doubts about the state of our society to question authority, the establishment, the political remit of the media, the bias of historical reportage, all under the banner of the empirical state of plutocracy. Furthermore, to question ourselves, our habitual thought patterns, our understanding and perception of reality as we see it, and the influence of those explorations upon our view of the world around us.

Currently I am in talks with various people in the arts industry regarding everything from interviews to collaborations to future exhibitions, all of which I am most grateful for. I have to maintain belief in what I do, in what I want to achieve, and I am beginning to understand that there are others who do feel the same. In years to come, if I am fortunate enough, I will be able to look upon this period as one of the most formative of my arts career. I accept that there will always be those who will fundamentally disagree with my stance, or my choice of subject matter, my approach to my work, or even my place in the field of arts. However, it is of great relief to me that there are an equal number of those, especially within the world of arts, who appreciate my work and take the time and effort to encourage me to push further into my own particular take on our global-media influenced culture. The debate will remain open, the theatre of indifference has been closed.

This post is tagged Andy Warhol, art, artistic movements, Christian, Damien Hirst, Duchamp, L.S.D, nature of existence, R. Mutt, society