Dear bloggers,
I often think that as artists, we can only do what we can do. If we realize this, then we can accept it, not lament it in the present, and hope to do better in the future. In my recent project in Germany, I was asked what it was like to come together with many people who are not classified as artists, to do a public display of art. I’ve used this program as a manifestation of many minds painting the oneness of man in different settings. I told the reporter that I look on an endeavor like this as an orchestra, in that each person brings their own genius to the music.
When we’re listening to Beethoven or Rachmaninoff or the other great composers, the violinist and bassoon and piano are all coordinating together for this one great sound, which moves us to laughter and tears and joy and all the other human emotions. But the conductor is the person who comes out and looks at the whole picture, while the instrumentalists tend to their small part of this huge endeavor. And as they’re tuning up their instruments, you hear chaos and disjointed sounds, but as soon as the conductor taps the podium, calm comes, and the movement of his hands signals the beginning of music. The direction this music takes is organized by one mind but executed by many.
In my collaborative painting projects, I see myself not only as the director but also the participant in a much bigger endeavor. What comes out is the thoughts I have brought to the people, the selection of colors I have dictated for the players. In most cases, I have lain down the skeleton of the painting, the intentions, the ebb, flow, rhythm, and coming-together, but then the others bring their own genius to the process in how they manipulate the color and bring each part together. There are many minds, arms, legs, and movements that go into this, so it truly is a senthesis of all towards the one program.
The reporter then followed up by asking me: Does that mean being individualistic is better than working with a collective? My answer was that, as with everything, there are many different ways of looking at the issue and carrying it through. If, for example, our whole life is based only upon the “Me, me, me!” conception of the world, I think it detracts from the individual. The more you introspect and wonder, “Why is the sun coming up for me today?”—the more you think, “10,000 people got killed in Africa today; how does that affect me?”—the more I believe we turn into raisins. It’s a mentality that sucks us of our lifeblood.I believe our destiny is not to be raisins, but laser-lights coming out into the world, improving ourselves but also encouraging other people to come together and manifest how human beings can be different and think differently, but still love, or at least tolerate, one another.
When it comes to an art project, which is supposedly individualistic, and suddenly it becomes collective, then the results acknowledge that we’re all working at the same thing, going in the same direction, but it was done by many different people. I think that’s what peace and tolerance are. We might not all be thinking the same thing, but we’re all doing the same thing. We’re part of this program that has been laid out.
So in my quest for world peace, I use all of these tools to teach people—including myself—that peace is an ellusive but attainable and cooperative and individualistic process. It’s almost an oxymoron, but it can be achieved, and working alone and together are ways we as artists can help bring this planet together. So be at it! Together or alone!
Matt