The Artist Speaks

I had the unfortunate pleasure of hearing Wendy Mark and Andre Aciman speak at the James Gallery this evening. A pleasure because I like her work. A pleasure because he wanders well through diverse ideas. Unfortunate because, despite the MFA degree from Columbia in writing with which she introduced herself, words are clearly not her medium. She was painfully incomprehensible.

Aciman started the conversation explaining how they are working on a project together, loosely shaped around Lavender. They had decided, however, that this was not a good topic for the conversation they would have and so picked blue. After he had shared his thoughts on blue, she apparently decided not to speak about blue. She introduced her work, having brought pieces to show but incapable of figuring out how to show them until Aciman distributed them to the audience. She could not figure out what to say and floundered until he obliged by beginning to interview her. But even that did not help as she could not respond simple questions such as:

How did you find your form?
What about monotype was so appealing?
How do you pick your colors?
What is your process?
How do you work with the authors who produce essays for your limited edition books?

Simple questions. And yet each one required her to peruse the air above her head with the abstracted wandering gaze of a stoned Annie Hall, as she started sentences only to interrupt them and begin somewhere else. This was not a conversation but a strained interview where even the most eloquent and persistent interviewer has to eventually accept defeat.

This brings me to the surprising inelegance with which most artists speak about their work. I realize that words are not their medium but in a world of words, they do need to be able to express themselves at least a little bit. Without their own words, the artwork can become co-opted by curators, journalists and that is only if the work stands out enough to be noticed without some description to help move it there.

I like Wendy Marks' work. It is light. Despite the small size of her pieces, there is much space in looking at them. They become, as she intends, a little world of their own. They are produced in series but each one does stand alone. They are fun and if you get a chance to look at her work at the James Gallery then I encourage you to do so. Perhaps if you find yourself wandering through mid-town and need a respite from the wind, you might wander through the show.

She was quite clear that she does not like to illustrate writers' words. She prefers writers to produce from the inspiration of her work for the limited edition booklets she produces. This and her focus on works that are so completely self-contained may lead to the autonomy that makes her incapable of participating in a conversation. Though this attitude works well in her art, it is an embarrassing disaster in a gallery dialogue with another artist.