Keith Haring Journals (15 page)

Writing in a book is also putting time in boxes—pages—the time in books is a different time than recorded time because you choose what speed to read it.

Time defines context.

We experience “art” as a result of many factors outside of the actual “art” itself.

Are all of the factors part of the “art experience” itself?

The “effect” of a work of art, possibly because of the limits of language, is rarely talked about as much as the formal qualities of the work itself. Although often, the effect is as
essential
to the experience of the work as its formal characteristics. It can then be argued that we are only in touch with the experience through the perception of those formal qualities (i.e., materiality—existence). However, the “art experience” is as dependent if not more dependent on context, concept, viewing situation, and the personal preconceptions and miscellaneous knowledge of the viewer’s context, than one of those formal qualities.

Formalism is born of verbalization.

These thoughts occurred after seeing the Buddhist Chinese monumental statues and wall-painting directly outside of the entrance to Clyfford Still’s paintings. On viewing these pieces and considering some of their formal qualities—size—relation to human scale—use of repetition to indicate number—use of intricate detail—craft—time in execution of art object—religious context—psychological effect of scale, number— materiality (weight-roughness-solidity-power)—it seemed that I was having an experience (they were having an effect) because of these factors. And it was apparent that their intention in using these factors was to create an effect outside of the work itself. It is not merely decorative. It is not only aware of itself. (It was not created as a perfection of these formal qualities of the piece itself as much as it was as an attempt to cause an effect to form a situation of communication—a transformation of energy. This transformation is aware of context. Is dependent on context.)

Overheard several people say of Clyfford Still’s paintings, “I hadn’t seen enough of them to appreciate them—before this.”

The effect of seeing a body of work—a piece of time—a lifetime of paintings—in relation to each other and in relation to themselves—is overwhelming.

The most incredible “experience” I have had recently. It causes great emotion to be stirred inside of me to be in contact with the lifetime of work of a powerful artist. While at the same time being overwhelmed and intellectually moved and filled with respect—having to listen to people denounce this work as meaningless, abstract, all the same thing, “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all”—to hear people walking through and trashing what seems to me quite an incredible feat. It fills me with disgust sometimes to the point of wanting to say something and usually laughing quietly or walking away. These paintings are 40 years old and some people can’t even begin to deal with them, how in the hell can I hope to even consider these people while I try to make “art” in the present. And they are the majority.

The “art world” is very very small and very, very personal and for most people, in reality, no more than a personal philosophy in a physical manifestation.

There is shared interest, but it is small. There are some people here that make me smile. There are some people here who are in touch with this shared idea about life that some people call art. I think art is a much bigger thing than some would like to admit. It is easier to ignore.

New York, which is supposedly the Art Center of the World at the present—even here there are small pockets of interest. Everyone is different and they all have different interests and to try to reach all of them is fatal. Clyfford Still knew about painting.

Walking around looking at these paintings—my thoughts are clear—there are insights into various kinds of “viewing situations,” ideas about the relationships between the viewer and the “work of art.” Either they are viewing something that they feel they could not physically do themselves, or are seeing something they respect because of quality, time, value, historical value. Sometimes they resent being in contact with something that they could “theoretically” physically do themselves.

They do not want to be in contact with something, by virtue of an idea.

Some people refuse to acknowledge “effect”—or close themselves off from the beginning with preconceptions, misconceptions, explanations, prejudices, pseudo-understanding, false assumptions, etc.

An artist has an impossible ambition. It is a presupposition that he will fail.

To what extent can the boundaries of materiality, economy, political, social, historical, traditional language be extended—stretched, diffused, so as to attempt to include a wider interaction between artist and audience (public)? Should an attempt be made?

Do they want or need art?

They are in contact with “art ideas” whether they are aware of it or not, but can they become more aware? Can they be having or experiencing art without acknowledging it?

Does there have to be acknowledgement? Is there art if no one is seeing or receiving?

Art experience as opposed to daily life—if artists expand these boundaries—these ways of seeing (and they are) to include daily life—if artists see life—experience life as art—if the qualities called art become the same qualities of a special experience of daily life—are people who experience this special thing—are they having an art experience? Is it essential that they think of it in an “art context”?

Is this idea threatening to art as commodity?

Is television making us all more aware of aesthetic seeing—can we all see special things and are we all—artists?

There has always been a large void between an artist’s intention and the actual effect of the materialization of that intention.

Advertising—commercial art seeks to close that gap—“effective” advertising.

To what extent are artists involved with that idea—can our alienation from the idea be mainly out of frustration?

Art History—the code of pathos—the dilemma of the dead artist’s frame—is the public (and even the art public) so far behind that we lose sight and forget they exist and withdraw to make totally personal, self-referential art that is interesting to other artists only or “art sympathizers”?

Has the message of abstract art been unconsciously—or not—to “fuck the audience”—forget them and make art, vaguely hoping that they will be interested after?

What are the viewer relationships of the present?

I think they are pluralistic. I think they are vague and often ignored.

It’s easy to fall into a trap of making things that are in the manner of previous “successful” endeavors—is it a trap?

The extent of change is a reflection of value?

Art as commodity.

However—what about the “focusing”? What about the things that are missed by eclectic methodologies?

What is the value of the constant focusing of Clyfford Still for an entire lifetime on one single medium and a limited vocabulary?

There are substantial arguments on both sides.

A retrospective always raises these questions—of change, growth, technique and value judgments.

There is always some consistency—even just the common factor of a single creator—presupposes continuity in a body of work.

Hope of adding to universal knowledge any idea that is influential. Time proceeds. Knowledge goes forward. Knowledge increases by the principle of accumulative thinking—all new information adds to and transforms previous knowledge.

Cumulative knowledge. To make something to present an idea that is influential—that someone takes in as an influential idea—that adds to all knowledge—the universal mind.

Thinking is cumulative.

A form of “art” that would be true to this idea of cumulative thinking would have to acknowledge some interest in time—exist in time—and think about the cumulative nature of time and transform time.

This can be approached through—fixed time—(painting, sculpture, photography), however, it seems recorded time (video tape, film, audio tape) would be an even more adequate medium to explore cumulative knowledge. Cumulative information.

All existence is cumulative.

The time in books is a different time because you can read the information at different speeds and the information is all present at the same time and it doesn’t travel in time—you have to be the active perceiver instead of the passive receiver of information when you read books.

Ditto—paintings—sculpture (art objects).

Art performance—experience.

Video tapes—film—performances exist within a specific time—contain their own given “length of time”—existence—duration—

Cumulative growth—time—exist through change.

Movement—changing in time.

I came home and took all the things out of my pocket that I had picked up throughout the day and taped them onto a page of the
New York Times
that I found on my way home. There are several little “coincidences”—overlaps of information. Things that have distinct relationships although arbitrarily chosen.

And then I went to Club 57 to play reggae miniature golf.

“Criticism is the salvation of art.”

—Joseph Laploca (in conversation)

“Meaning—metaphor—memory.”

—Kermit Oswald (in conversation)

Pieces of the same thing at different times. At the same time that I’m talking at the same time I’m also talking to you at different times because I’m talking into these boxes these boxes keep time these boxes can take this time and make it a different time. Pieces of time in boxes. Putting things in boxes. Putting pieces of the same thing in different boxes. Pieces of the same thing at different times. It’s the same thing.

I like looking at paintings in a clothing store.

SAMO in Patricia Field’s.

Wednesday the 14th after my performance at SVA for 12 hours, I went to Kiev to eat finally and eat with SAMO and he said he knew about the performance but wasn’t there. He told me about the painting he had done that day. He bought a canvas at Utrecht’s and paint and put all this paint on the canvas and let cars run over it and got the paint all over himself and then got on the subway and went to an appointment at Fiorucci and got paint on EVERYTHING on the way and at Fiorucci he got paint on the rug and couch and rich ladies’ furs. He was asked to leave before his appointment.

Last night Kenny and I went to Times Square to do Polaroid photographs after seeing Barbara Buckner’s video tape—
Pictures of the Lost
—at the Donnell Library. We watched this incredible black woman in a fluorescent orange poncho playing an electric organ. She was the best organ player I’ve heard in a long time. She would go through these incredible abstract chord changes. She was totally unaware of the preconceived structures of songs and the only way you could tell what she was playing was by listening to the words. She did the most far-out version of “Blue Suede Shoes” I ever heard. We were the only people watching except for two other men.

“She sang the blues juxtaposed with space organ.”

—Jet (Kenny) Scharf

Heard BEUYS at Cooper Union January 7

Saw him the next day at 125 Delancey St.—Real Estate Show

This really happened . . . I met this boy ’cause we were late looking at SAMO’s window at Patricia Field’s—followed him to the East Village—went home—first time I ever came doing 69. Made love under blinking Christmas lights—Nova Convention poster in hallway—never seen again.

Words written as heard in Semiotics Class—continuously.