1. In Search of a Truly Creative Occupation
2. Fine Art in Museums: Tigers in Zoos
3. Invisible Artwork: If we ignore it maybe it will go away
4. Art is Communication, Getting Yelled At by Art Is as Much Fun as Getting Yelled At by People

“It is a certain kind of educated, intelligent and intellectually hungry person that seeks out and enjoys encountering things and people that challenge their own culture. To have any hope that the general public would embrace this practice is foolish.” – Jason Simanek

I am debating whether the population of people who embrace “a challenge to their own culture” is growing or shrinking in response to the internet age where everyone is networked together. On the one hand, people are connecting with people far different from themselves that they never would have encountered in the past. But people are also digging deeper into communities of like minded people. Is it better to be loosely connected to a physical community centered around ancestry and tradition or is it better to be tightly connected to an online community that passionately supports your obscure interests? There are pros and cons to both I suppose and a healthy person would benefit from both.

In general, I have more hope in the public than I think I have ever had in my life. One of the exciting things about the age of the internet is that the population of “intellectually hungry” people that you describe is exploding. While the walls of our homes may not reflect it, the population of artists has exploded thanks to the internet and technology.

Most people can afford a computer that makes it relatively easy to create something. Sure, the first thing they create with these machines is a video/photo/blog about their cat, but nevertheless, this has huge implications. It has changed the general public from a passive participant in our culture into an active member who is adding to and shaping the world. Now, rather than copying the rich “culture makers” sense of art, each person can define the meaning of their culture individually. And is it any wonder that the walls of most people’s homes isn’t where they choose to display their work? Now you can share your creations online with people who might actually appreciate what you are doing. The walls of the home seem pretty limiting by comparison.

So now we are shifting into a creative culture that encourages participation. We are all asking ourselves these questions: “Now that I have these tools, what should I create? Who can I share my creations with? Now that I have found a community of people who share my passions, what can I contribute? How can I improve the work that I am creating? How can I help others improve their skills?” In addition, people are forming opinions about things that they never would have thought about before.

“Only recently has the general public had the free time and money to attempt to emulate the rich by thoughtfully decorating their homes with the mass-produced copies of images that have already been defined as ‘good art’ by rich people in the past. Its as though they have a nostalgia for someone else’s past. They’ve replaced what was most likely their own relatively simple but rich folk art tradition with thoughtless, mass produced imagery.”

There is an article in Wired this month called “The Great Cognitive Surplus” that talks about how differently people are spending there time compared to a decade ago. Clay Shirky makes a great statement that, “When someone buys a TV, the number of consumers goes up by one, but the number of producers stays the same. When someone buys a computer or mobile phone, the number of consumers and producers both increase by one.” I think that the general public is shifting from a population that spends their free time into a population that uses their free time. (On a side note, the other voice in that Wired article is Daniel Pink who has a great video on YouTube talking about “the surprising truth about what motivates us.”

Five years ago it was almost impossible to connect with people who would stop and notice my work. The best I could do was offend a few people in the middle of a small town in the middle of Nebraska. Today I can share pinhole photos with hundreds of like-minded enthusiasts who appreciate what I do without giving me strange looks. These people are invested in the same kind of work and willing to contribute to my improvement.

Admittedly, I am blurring the lines between traditional artists (Warhol, Pollock, etc.) and people who just like to create things – whether that is open source software, Widipedia entries, blogs, or whatever. The internet isn’t going to transform everyone into artists and there are plenty of downsides to what the internet has contributed to society. But overall, I think it is an exciting time to be alive.

Warhol’s fascination with the notion of celebrity is simply one chapter in a body of work that explores dehumanization, consumerism, cultural desensitization, and materialization – all very “American” virtues. His charismatic life was so intertwined with American society that a study of Andy Warhol becomes a sociological commentary on American culture itself. Warhol recognized his connection saying, “I feel very much a part of my times, of my culture, as much a part of it as rockets and television.” In many ways Andy was the American dream. He overcame poverty, physical flaws, and pathological shyness to become the king of pop culture. But Warhol’s story is even more than a rags to riches tale. Andy Warhol packaged himself as a product for consumption just like the cans of soup and bottles of Coke that he painted. Andy Warhol’s life was just as much a work of art as his paintings.

Pick any of the many books written about Andy Warhol and you will observe that nobody really ever has a solid grasp on who he actually was or what he was trying to do. Was he the voyeur he claimed to be or critic of the culture he commented on? Was he sincerely promoting beauty of ordinary objects or was he showing the absurdity of consumerism? Was he really callous towards life and death, or was he pointing out how valuable our lives should be? Was he a shy socialite or a cunning businessman? Was he the ultimate hipster, casually dismissing the importance of his art, or was he a philosopher with a firm grasp on art history? To fall for any single side of these arguments is to oversimplify his art. His popularity can be attributed to how easily it is for anyone (from art critic to blue collar worker) to add their own meaning to his work.

Andy, the non-stereotypical artist
Even if we have deep respect for art, most of us also carry a negative stereotype around with us about artists. Have you ever listened to an artist gush about their work talking about things that couldn’t possibly have any relevance to your life? You probably rolled your eyes and questioned the sanity of this person. When a person’s words don’t align with their artwork and the art fails to connect with the audience you have a recipe for irrelevance. That is the real genius of Andy Warhol. His artwork could be appreciated by almost anyone. When questioned about the meaning of his work he could have said something like, “I feel that the pressures of society have polluted the beauty of the common object irrevocably and I want to represent the impact that the ordinary has had on the bourgeois blah blah blah.” Instead he let his artwork stand on its own merits and allowed the audience to decide for themselves what it is all about.” That’s why Andy’s most memorable quotes are contradicting thoughts like:

“I’m afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning.”

“In the future everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes.”

“I am a deeply superficial person.”

“I never wanted to be a painter; I wanted to be a tap dancer.”

“It’s not what you are that counts, it’s what they think you are.”

The exception to the self-contradicting element in his work is his least successful work done in the 1980s. His portraits of celebrities were not very well received and are criticized for being too commercial. The irony of course is that this was exactly why Andy chose this subject matter. It was the same reason he painted Coke cans and soup labels – celebrities are also products of American consumerism. Nevertheless, Warhol’s work in the 80s does feel less timeless than his earlier work and there is truth to the notion that Andy was existing more and more as a business man and less as a pure artist. Had he not died in 1987 it is interesting to speculate about whether Warhol’s work would have continued towards the “business” side of the spectrum or if he would have regained a second wind and taken his art in a brand new direction.

What if Andy Warhol were still alive?
The thought of Warhol living in 2010 is worth a couple final thoughts. I joked with a friend recently that had he been alive today, Andy Warhol would most certainly have been a judge on American Idol. This position would give him the ability to single handedly dish out fame to people neatly packaged in fifteen minute packages. What else would Andy be involved with if he were still alive?

Perhaps Andy’s blog would be regularly updated with long posts about his cats and other less than fascinating insights into his life. The posts are tediously detailed and never talk about art directly. It is unclear whether Andy writes these posts himself or if he has assistants that help with the writing.

Andy Warhol wouldn’t have a twitter feed, instead favoring a more visual micro-blogging format. Andy Warhol’s flickr stream would be massive with photos of everything he consumed. The photos would be neatly categorized into collections like shoes, candy, weapons, condiments, and toiletries. All his photos are uploaded at high resolution and are released under a creative commons license that requires only that his name be displayed prominently with the reproduction.

What else do you think Andy’s life would include if he lived today? A reality show? Product endorsements? I am curious what you think, so please leave a comment if you have more ideas.

I am lucky to have an assortment of art to cover the walls in my home. I don’t own a Pollock or a Warhol – most of it is work done by friends or myself. On the rare occasion when we have guests over, I think it is interesting to give people a tour of the house and see what artwork – if any – people respond to. If the home is the “natural habitat” for art, then perhaps the response people have to art in this context is more authentic than it would be in a museum. Here is what I have observed…

When confronted with art unexpectedly, most people will say something safe like, “Did you do that?” or “I love all your artwork.” They are very careful to avoid directly interacting with the art on my walls. The exception is photography, especially photos of our family which aren’t art at all. These responses sounds like, “Look how young you guys were,” or “what kind of camera do you have?”

If “religion and politics” are the top two topics that people try to avoid talking about in polite conversation then art has to be a close third. I think art is intimidating to non-artists. That is the only way to explain the popularity of mass-produced reproductions and non-interactive visual junk. People are afraid of empty walls – but they are just as afraid of walls that make any kind of statement. Paint it beige and hang a Georgia O’Keefe print and nobody will ask any questions.

A few years ago I had an art show where I created prints of different faces of Jesus Christ that I scanned and enlarged from old Sunday School posters. (Thank you for coming to that show, Jason, by the way. It meant a lot to me to have you there.) Anyway, one of the more memorable pieces from that show was a 4 foot wide print of Jesus with a crown of thorns and a somber expression. Needless to say, it has made quite a statement hanging above our dinner table in the kitchen. The surprising thing is that this print hasn’t started any real conversation outside of Betsy persuading me to move it down to the basement. Perhaps, the subject matter is too intimidating. Frankly, I think it is kind of funny to sit under a 4 foot photo of Jesus’ face and pretend it isn’t there. That metaphor might be stronger than what I had in mind anyway.

Sometimes “art” feels irrelevant in the same way that I struggle with organized religion. People just prefer to ignore it. I think that is sad, because both art and Christianity have the power to rise above the mediocrity of everything else. It is much easier to ignore the meaningful things in life and embrace the “safe” stuff. As a result the kitsch rises to the top and things with substance get attacked – or worse yet ignored – because these things are uncomfortable. The people who create and have passion for them seem absurd because they have the guts to be different. People don’t have time to wrestle with deep thoughts when there are simpler ways to entertain themselves. Why would anyone want to stifle an endless stream of gratification by confronting things that aren’t easy to understand or appreciate?

With that I will toss it back to Jason’s blog. This one ended on a dark note, so next time I will try to focus more on the positive, I promise…

"Hosea," by Adrian Hanft, II

The story of my dad’s sculptures is in many ways the story of what it means to be a Christian and an artist. The reality of our culture is that Christianity often gets marginalized when it comes to “relevant” issues. Most of us are aware of the separation of church and state, but the church is separated from more than just government. Unfortunately, church has also been separated from the artistic community. If you attend my church you may wonder if there are many things that it actually is connected to. That’s a rant for another day, but my point is that being an artist and a Christian can seem like an invitation to not be taken seriously. So to see my dad being recognized for his artistic abilities as well as his Christianity feels like an amazing achievement. Listen to my dad’s interview on NPR to understand what I am talking about:

Interview with Adrian Hanft, II on Nebraska NPR show, Friday Live NET Radio (5.75mb)

It takes an amazing amount of determination to decide to carve in granite. With much softer stones available you really need to be committed to the task if you are going to carve granite. The dust is toxic, the tools are expensive, the stones are heavy and dangerous, and it takes a long time to complete a sculpture. Why would anyone voluntarily do this? The crazy thing is that deciding to become a pastor is an equally absurd decision. The pay is low, church politics are bitter and petty, and society has all but written off the church as irrelevant. Why would anyone voluntarily do this?

From the outside my father’s decision to be a pastor and a sculptor may seem hard to understand, but the reason is actually pretty simple. This is just who my dad is. The fact that his chosen task is difficult doesn’t even register on my his radar. He is just doing what he was meant to be. More than being true to himself, this is who God created my dad to for.

As I write this I understand for the first time a verse that says “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light. When you live a life that is in alignment with God’s plan for you, your challenges won’t be a burden. In fact, you will actually find joy in the trials you face. Joy is exactly what will surprise you when you hear my dad talk about his work. You won’t hear my dad complaining or bragging about the challenges involved in his work. All you will hear is his joy as he talks about the process. I truly admire my dad for accepting the role that God has chosen for him.

If you are interested in seeing some more of my dad’s sculptures, you can go to stonesofscion.com.

The assignment was to make something that represented our families. Sounds simple right? The catch was that this wasn’t a drawing. It wasn’t a photo. As we tried to pin down Mr. Schatz about what exactly we were supposed to create, he was elusive. The more we pressed him the more confusing the assignment became.

We knew what a drawing was. We know what pottery was. We knew what photos were. We knew what songs were. We knew what a poem was. These things defined “art” as we knew it. But this assignment was something confusing, something foreign to us. Finally, Mr. Schatz gave us some vague direction. He said something like,

“Think about what your family means to you. You know these people better than anyone else in the world. You can’t sum up the most important people in your life with a drawing. You can’t represent your love for your mom with a poem. When you think about your brothers and sisters you feel something inside you. Focus on that – and then make something that feels the same way.”

Needless to say, we left class that day bewildered. We struggled with it. The word that comes to mind to describe what I felt was “terrified.” I was supposedly one of the talented artists in the class and I had no idea what to make.

As I struggled with the assignment, things gradually became clear. Creating something was secondary to the process. It didn’t matter so much what we made, what mattered was learning to think creatively, passionately, and personally. Shapes, color, paint, tools – all the familiar skills we were learning – were all finally given a purpose beyond “making pretty things.” For the first time in our lives, this thing called “art” was connected to something inside of us. It was terrifying, yes, but it was also empowering. It was a pivotal moment in my creative development.

This was in a public school in the midwest, Wentzville High to be exact, but I still wonder what impact traditional education has on creative development. So much of what we learn in school is how to memorize and recite answers. We learn what hoops to jump through and in what order. Do a, b, and c and you earn a diploma. Where does creativity come into play? Creativity isn’t something that you can create a formula for.

As a graphic designer I get paid to work for so-called “non-creatives.” It is a challenge that I gladly welcome, but I can’t help but wonder if these people are merely missing a creative component that should have been taught in school. These brilliant people are enormously intelligent with successful careers and more wealth than I will ever see. And yet when it comes to a visual vocabulary they are infants. When conversations stray beyond the physical/quantifiable/literal I see the same thing that I saw back in high school: terrified bewilderment. And just like in school some people embrace the new world, others run for cover and the comfort of more easily measured occupations.

I have very fond memories of drawing when I was a kid. My parents had me drawing in a sketchbook at a young age, and they were very supportive of the artist in me. I remember dictating to my mother who would patiently write out the stories to accompany my illustrations. When I was in grade school my mom helped me organize an art club and invite my friends over for an afternoon of drawing and learning about art. We only met once or twice, but it helped me establish an identity at an early age of being an artist. My friends knew that was my “thing” and they respected it.

If you ask any successful person to point to people that influenced them when they were young, I bet most of them can quickly identify some key people. We all remember that one teacher who inspired us and encouraged us. When you think about these people you realize how life changing a few words of encouragement can be. A little praise of a kid’s math skills may send them on a lifelong journey into engineering. Praise a person’s singing and they may love music for the rest of their life.

Seeing my son’s drawings brings back great memories and makes me really proud of him. I gave him a sketchbook today and we had a fun time drawing pictures of his R2D2 toy. I hope he enjoys drawing in his sketchbook as much as I enjoyed mine. I don’t know if he will grow up to be an artist or an astronaut, but I know that being supportive of whatever he is interested has the potential to shape his future.

As I finish writing this Rian snuck past me again. He says he has something for me because “You are my best friend, and I love you.” This time he has a stack of about a dozen envelopes. I bet each one contains a drawing of me. I guess that just proves my point that a little positive reinforcement goes a long way!

The second exponential example comes from the Colbert Report where Steven Colbert interviews Chris Jordan. Chris is a photographer whose work tries to show the amount of waste that everyone in America discards every day. Very interesting interview and artist. You can watch the interview here.

The final exponential observation has to do with an addicting little online game called Vector TD. Beating a level involves destroying vectoids that get a harder with each level. Don’t start playing unless you can afford the exponential time sucking side effects!

1	2	3
4	5	6
7	8	9
10	11	12
13	14	15

1. Entrance Sign
2. Me
3. Large Jesus Print
4. Robbie Conal looking at my work
5. Robbie’s posters
6. Wall 1 of my work
7. Jesus rug
8-9. People looking at my work
10-11. Friends – Thanks for coming!
12-13. Punch
14-15. The other two walls of my work in black and white

If you missed it, be sure you read my artist statement so you can put my work in context. Thanks to Bennett for documenting the event. I am not quite done yet, I have one more post in the works to wrap up my thoughts on the show.

Portraits of Christ
Recent Work by Adrian Hanft, III

What causes someone to create a picture of God? Is it not incredibly arrogant to presume that you can create something that resembles the holy? When does a good intentioned tool of faith transform into an empty symbol? At what point does an image become an idol? A crutch. An obstacle between us and God? How many times can an image be reproduced before it has more in common with the enemies of Christianity than the truth it supposedly represents?

These questions eventually escape the realm of portraits of Christ and expand into criticism of Christianity itself. How insulting it must be to God that we weekly visit a pretty building expecting Him to meet us there. Do we really think God wants anything to do with our dust covered symbols? And then there are the Christians themselves. Hypocrites. Sinners. Who do we think we are fooling? Our hears are as empty as the crosses that hang around our necks. There is nothing inside us of value and that void is reflected in our religious routine. We don’t deserve to enter God’s presence and I don’t know why he would let us anyway. God should laugh at our art, level our buildings and destroy anyone with the audacity to claim to know Him. So why doesn’t he?

That about summed up my thoughts last year when I was approached about having a show of my “Christian” artwork. It caught me at a point where I was trying to figure out what it meant to call myself a Christian. If you can relate to the questions I was asking as I evaluated my Christianity, then I hope you can share my fascination with the images of Christ in my show. I also hope that your journey doesn’t end with the cynicism I have presented up to this point. I have come to the conclusion that Christianity is more than our art and religious pomp. The paradox is that God loves us. He comes with compassion. Where we deserve death, he gives us life. He sacrificed himself to cleanse our filth. Likewise he humbles himself and joins us in our churches. He humbles himself by using our images of Him for good. He humbles Himself by entering our hearts. He is able to make something beautiful where there was once only sin and corruption. While it is easy to be cynical about religous art and Christianity in general, these things do have power and great potential. God can (and does) use wretched ornaments to serve his purposes. He can bless our futile attempts at divine representation and fill our lives with meaning. You could say that He is the master painter and He wants to paint our lives. My prayer is that God will touch His brush to our lives so that we can live again, and that the love that we’ve lost in the painting of life may come again. Thank you for visiting my show. Sincerely, Adrian Hanft