What This Blog Is About

by Jerry Fresia | Jun 1, 2011 | Creativity | 5 comments

This blog is about what it means to be a creative person, particularly as it relates to painting. But much of what I have to say can be generalized. All human beings are innately creative, even the most uncurious psychopaths. In fact, I would argue that to be human is to be able to create ourselves through our work. But many of us don’t have that particular opportunity to be creative and, therefore, many of us do not have the opportunity, as has been said, to be fully free human beings. And here’s the punch line: among those who don’t have the opportunity to be freely creative in this particular way, I will argue, are artists themselves. I’m thinking primarily of painters but, as I said, the point I will be making can be generalized.

And why is this? I’m getting ahead of my story but here’s a bit of foreshadowing: because much of what artists do is directed by someone else – and for purposes that have little to do with advancing the cause of creativity or human freedom. A great insight that was said by someone (Atisha) over one thousand years ago holds true today: “The greatest wisdom is seeing through appearances.” In other words, if we wish to do anything of substance, especially as it relates to our own emancipation, it behooves us to dig beneath the surface of the way things appear.

I chose the title for this blog, The Art Class, because it perfectly captures the two meanings I wish to explore. The first is the kind of art class where a particular art practice is taught, a painting or dance class, for example. I will spend some time writing about the process of making and I will be connecting all of that to another kind of art class. It is the sense of class that refers to the class of people who make the decisions as to what counts as important in the art system and this class of people have as much influence over who we are and the kind of work we do as does any studio class focused on “how to.” However, the class of people who run auction houses and direct speculation and investments remains largely invisible and unexamined. In fact, to expose how the art system is organized is taboo – which is all the more reason why it is important for artists to pull back the curtain. We get a glimpse of the art class I have in mind when Eva Cockcroft – a particularly insightful artist who died in 1999 – reminds us that “To understand why a particular art movement becomes successful under a given set of historical circumstances requires an examination of the specifics of patronage and the ideological needs of the powerful.”

There it is. THE NEEDS OF THE POWERFUL. We are not suppose to even think in terms of power or the powerful, let alone identify their sources of power and spell out their needs. I feel compelled to do just that, however, because I wish to amplify and provide substance to Robert Henri’s (who is in the lineage of the teachers who taught me) dictum that “art when properly understood is the province of every human being.” In other words, my purpose in writing this blog is to get back to the notion that we all put our pants on one leg at a time. Truly great artists, in my opinion, are not great because they possess extraordinary talent or skill or win the favor of the jet set or are innovative necessarily; rather they are great because their work liberates us both as artists and as ordinary people. They do as Beethoven predicted he would do – like Bacchus, they press out wine for future generations.

Learning to paint or dance or make music is less about learning new techniques and more about learning new ways to be free and acutely alive. That is no small task.

5 Comments

sue seagar on June 19, 2011 at 2:46 am

I am sitting in NZ with Susan Caulton, I have seen some of fher work and long to understand what you have taught
her.
Do you have on line teaching or video’s that could impart what you have taught susan.
Susan say to ask you if you are still offering your on line painting course that she subscribes to.

She said to tell you that she is moving to her house with her own little studio, and she can not wait.to get painting again.

Regards Sue Seagar
y Gmail is suseagar@gmail.com
- Jerry Fresia on July 21, 2011 at 5:40 am
  
  Hi Sue. I took down the on-line course once my book on the practice and philosophy of Impressionism came out (see my web site). It is a much better treatment. I am also working on making little videos available. Slow going but my intention is to produce a series of short videos and will make them available on-line. Thanks for asking.
Lina on June 24, 2011 at 11:57 pm

Superbly illuminating data here, thnaks!
Jay Zarkovacki on July 20, 2011 at 8:13 pm

Ah! Profound as always. I’m very excited to see you’ve begun your blog.

I constantly find myself tripping over my attention to simply “playing the notes” like a technician, while realizing that loving what I’m doing and rendering the experience is by far the hardest and most important part of impressionism. Truly your book holds all keys to becoming free as an artist but I continue to struggle with letting go and enjoying myself. I’m hoping that this “letting go” is a skill that I’ll finally acquire. Do you ever struggle still with letting go, Jerry, or have you learned to simply enjoy painting the sensation without stumbling over your old ways?
- Jerry Fresia on July 21, 2011 at 5:35 am
  
  Thanks Jay. To answer your question, yes. “Letting go,” not seeing literally or seeing “past the facts,” are the kind of things that represent a challenge each and every time I paint. For me it is not something that is willed, necessarily. I have to be relaxed and remind myself that the painting, as such, is not the point of the activity – that is, not the reason that I am painting. Growth is. This may be one reason that Monet, at the end of his life, remarked that painting is terribly difficult. It is (for those of us who wish to pursue what I call the “Impressionist experience”) never about getting a likeness or making the house look just like that house, rather the challenge is always to step outside our little bubbles or normal existence. And when that happens, at least for me, I am transported to a different place. Suddenly what I see and what I do is pleasurable in a way that is hard to describe. “A high,” of sorts. I have no worries. And, fortunately, when this merry little state of being occurs, the painting seems to have a life that it couldn’t have had otherwise. I harp on this endlessly but my experience is that most students will simply dismiss it all as they obsess on making the successful, finished picture. Now, for what it is worth, this point of view isn’t simply my own little idiosyncratic madness, it is what such diverse artists as Picasso, Pollack, and Henri repeat over and over.