Further Thoughts on Deep Art
I like to think of what I do as a departure from modernism. I do what I call Deep Art. I see its precedent in Leonardo da Vinci’s advice to gaze at a wall to imagine what you may in its blemishes and accidents, and I see it in the strange paintings of Victor Hugo, which began as ink blotches that he worked into, perhaps revealing the suggestion of a gothic landscape. Deep Art has been anticipated by the surrealists, it could be argued, though Hugo predates them, so it is actually earlier than surrealism. Basically Deep Art is going in the opposite direction to modernism. It begins with some involuntary chaotic action, splotches, blots, found chaos, a spill or even a confused photograph. The artist then works into that chaos to attempt to get somewhere. Not necessarily to a figurative result but at least to a feeling of resolution in the artist’s mind.
In the heyday of modernism, back in the sixties or before that, modernism embraced progress. Though causing horrific manifestations when applied to warfare, progress was still something which could lead to a Utopian reshaping of society. Progress led away from old-fashioned figurative depiction towards abstraction. So it led from articulate coherence towards a comprehension of underlying structure, rhythm and the abstraction of forms – stimulating an understanding of the nature of our senses, as exemplified by the non-narrative repetitions of Gertrude Stein or by Mondrian beginning from an apple tree and abstracting from it until he discovered in its structure some harmony of lines. Finally, artists did not want their abstractions to be “read into” – since they existed as pure rhythm; word impacting against word or colour striking colour. Jackson Pollock would have been furious if one had looked into one of his abstract paintings and said, I think I can see the backside of a cow.
However deep art is a departure from that pursuit of progress. We no longer have faith that progress will solve the world’s ills. In fact progress chooses to abet capitalism. A world of total surveillance is portended, reinforced by AI and hostile to procreation in a post-industrial world. Progress has become a dirty word, and therefore deep art retreats from progress, not into nostalgia for a previous way of making art, but into an ideal of degrowth, epitomised by turning away from profit-motivated expansion on an ever larger scale. Instead, it focuses in on a realm where the accidental prompts suggestion. However abstract it might initially appear, a piece of deep art invites being looked into more deeply. It is like a Rorschach test – it is open to suggestion. I reiterate: deep art is a departure. It is alchemy. Its primary aim is for the artist to lose consciousness of self in the engrossment of making art. It looks into the tea-leaves. It makes something out of chaos. It welcomes quantum connections.
But then an ironic question arises. This chaos out of which the art emerges, yes, it may be or may not be symbolic of the observable world, but, just as the soothsayer needs the tea-leaves for prediction, the chaos needs to be plastic, made of ink on specific paper, or made of cut-ups as in the work of William Burroughs. The stuff to puzzle over has to be brought into existence before the alchemy can begin. So this initiates the initial artistic or poetic struggle. What is to be spilt? How is this chaos to be mined? How do you make your own raw material? You can draw with the eyes closed. That is something you can’t really do with words – though the surrealists experimented with automatic writing. So differences emerge. In art, in order to wrestle with the arbitrary or derive a result from cacophony, what is required first is that some arbitrary spillage or cacophony be created. This is not as easy as it sounds. The way of making that initial chaos that will inspire the work is what distinguishes one artist in this vein from another
See also Modern Art is Over. Embrace Deep Art.
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