Vehement: Showing strong feeling, forceful, intense
Evoking strong feels can be unexpected. How can we be sure to elicit responses to our work?
Life has been moving so fast, I’m actually at a point where I want it to slow down. I don’t know how often I’ll say that, so let it sink in.
Recently, I was in Indianapolis for GenCon while Cathryn tabled for me at DBQ Fest. DBQ Fest is in Dubuque, the first city in Iowa. It’s also a city I’ve had a recurring traveler’s romance with. It’s not a flirting, smitten kind of romance. Dubuque can be just as unforgiving as anywhere else. But it grapples with growth, recovery, water, creativity, and industry. There’s more there than you’ll see on the surface. Naturally, I was a little jealous Cathryn got to go on my behalf. But I was a lot nervous.
I might be someone who can write decently, but I am not someone who is excellently organized. Prepare an outdoor event that someone else can set up and run? That’s not necessarily on my resume. I can run across the countryside with crates of art, a tent, and a bunch of doodads that make it look like I know what I’m doing and… well… make it look like I know what I’m doing. That skill is not something I can pack in a box for someone else.
DBQ Fest is a juried art show. I bring out the stuff I care about most: figure art and other character work. I sent Cathryn with all of that and offered her remote support while I walked around a massive board game convention. She had my strong work, my controversial work. I didn’t think of the things she might experience, I just sent her off. Cathryn’s a pro. She can do anything.
Years ago, we owned a temporary gallery in Dubuque. I brought artists in, and Cathryn made them look good. She created a visual story, a flow, that made it easy to talk about each piece. At DBQ Fest Cathryn flexed those skills and created a display that got people talking. My figure work is created from consenting reference. I work with people, mostly women, who display courage and boldness. I expected comments of, “vulnerability,” and, “confidence.” She also heard words I wasn’t ready for. I don’t just illustrate people. I’ve been exploring boundaries of good and evil. I hate those words and I don’t think they benefit us. In protest, I render characters with horns, tails, and long ears. I know what I’m doing. I didn’t think of how the weight of words like, “derogatory,” and, “satanic,” could affect Cathryn, though.
It’s a tough place to be in, representing someone else’s art. Tougher, still, when it’s art that might offend someone. My goal isn’t to offend you and send you off sour. That would be cruel. My goal is to have us confront what it is that causes offense and ask ourselves, “Why?”. It’s about deconstruction and confrontation. We’ve grown too much as a species to believe horned devils lurk in the shadows, yet we still wrestle with imagery even when it’s presented peacefully. Why is that?
Maybe it was wrong to put Cathryn in that position. She didn’t create the work, and I never asked her to go be confrontational. I asked Cathryn to go run a table and make some sales. True to her nature, Cathryn did it all, however. She texted and called while I shuttled around Indianapolis. Each moment wasn’t always easy. She didn’t always know what to do or say. In some respect, even Cathryn was having to confront how she uses words and what she believes, and I could only be supportive. Should I have ever asked her to represent me?
When I got home, I found a greeting card and an envelop on our dining bar. Within that envelope, I discovered four sheets of paper. Two scribbled in various colors. Two typed on a typewriter. Cathryn’s experience evoked poetry. A poem born from notes, thoughts, and duality. My work, her situation, and people’s responses led her to these words:
Humid. Blistering sun on the tent. Surrounded by women. Horned. Nude. people Wander from place to place. they even wander to Me. She flips. Flip. Flip. Flip. gawking. Scrutinizing. FEELING. Beyond flowers in a vase Power speaks to them. Passion Speaks. Derogatory. Satanic. Disgust. Wounded she hands me her Light, born again. Vulnerable. Confident. Vehemence. Unshackled she walks forth, born to be seen. Rupture the mold. Shatter black and white.
You might have this sense while creating art that you should make everyone happy. That it’s best to speak to the lowest common denominator. It’s safe. But safety often means eliciting little, or no, reaction. No reaction is a bad reaction. The culmination of my recent work warranted praise and objection. It got people thinking, and talking. Most importantly, it played part in Cathryn deconstructing her experience and creating something. I’d take that over safe art any day.
Today’s Tune
Piece of the Week: Fauna
