Final Writing Assignment

Dream Visits

          “Errggghhh….uuuunnnffff,” she groaned, as he relentlessly walked up her back. He began licking her scalp and hair with his semi-salivated and perpetually scratchy tongue, his cat breath operating in full-force. As one can imagine, this could only be one of the most pleasant sensations at 5:30 in the morning; it had now become their ritual.

“mmmffff….Fine… I’ll get up…” she mumbled, stumbling with eyes hardly open out to the kitchen to feed the little nuisance. After a quick drink of much needed water and a trip to the bathroom, she plopped back in bed, now with eyes wide awake.

  It was remarkable how rapidly she could gather her thoughts early in the morning; she had always been a light sleeper. She didn’t mind however, for her bed had always been a sacred place for her. Not in the sense of chastity, she thought, as she warmly glanced over to see her partner rolled over on his usual side. No, it’s sacred to her in the sense that it has always been the place where she is able to accomplish some of her most productive thinking and reflection, two things in life she considers essential. The best times for her to do these are either late at night, in the decompressing moments before she falls into sleep, or first thing in the morning, when her mind is fresh and the obligations of the day are yet to be fulfilled. She relishes in these fleeting moments of transition, when her body is still and the wheels of her mind are in momentum.

And while relishing and plotting the course of her day, suddenly, her eyes widen.

“What an incredible dream!” she thought excitedly to herself. The most vivid dream, the sensation of which had waned only temporarily, had resurfaced, and was now there for her to reflect upon. She closed her eyes, and began to remember…

She is at the university she attends in the ceramics studio, another place in her life she considers to be sacred, a much needed second home. Her table in the studio is a space that she has earned through a couple years of hard work and dedication, and is where she can often be found. Above her table, on the ledge below the gigantic single-paned windows that allow in light but also the cold and troublesome winter air, are four of her ceramic figures, three with completed surfaces and one in need of some paint.

“Jeez, I dream of this place all the time…probably because I spend way too much time in here,” she thought.

 Currently she is working on her newest ceramic figure. Although it is her favorite piece she’s made so far, never before has she encountered so many problems and set-backs. “One step forward, two steps back” seems to be the name of the game for this piece, and all the resulting irritation and grief have proven to be perfect material for her dreams. She reminds herself that clay is a time-sensitive medium, and although she feels she possesses somewhat of a mastery over the clay, time and its nuances are something she will never be in complete control of.

Hard at work, her attention is focused completely on her hand movements and the figure (which she refers to as one of her “girls”) in progress in front of her. After a few moments of absolute concentration, her eyes pan upward and widen as she stiffens in surprise, realizing that someone else has made their way into the studio. This happens often, and she can’t figure out why she rarely hears people coming in the room; she is told she’s rather skittish, but she knows it’s because she’s absorbed in her practice.

Yet, this stranger walking observantly around the room is different…it’s someone she recognizes but is someone she’s never met. After a few brief moments of studying his face, it dawns on her.

“Walt…Walter Benjamin?!” she exclaims with a tinge of familiarity. “What…what in the world brings you…here?”

His face was stoic, his eyes pensive and beaming, like he would know the answer to any possible question. He continued to pace about the studio unnervingly slow.

Voice shaking, she nervously tries to make conversation. Questioning people has always been a difficult thing for her to do, although she was fabulous at small-talk. “You know Walter, I’m a huge fan of your work…you know, Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction… you know, all that stuff about the aura of a work of art and how technology will always continue to alter and even define our consideration of art…”

Walter stopped pacing, thankfully, and took a seat on a nearby stool close to her table. She put down her tools and took a seat as well, with all her nervous attention now focused on this man.

“You have, have you? Must you realize that much of that essay had to do with the technology of photography and especially film, and how they radically changed the world of art?” he questioned.

“Oh definitely! I especially responded to your observation that when a work of art is photographed and reproduced, nearly everything concerning the work of art is challenged: its context inevitably changes and its existence in a fixed time and space is multiplied to encompass an existence in numerous times and numerous spaces, now with multiple meanings; the act, which you consider to be ritualistic, of making a pilgrimage to see the work of art may no longer be necessary due to the convenience of having a photographic representation of an artwork instead…I think you illustrated this by saying something like, 'we can now meet the work of art halfway?'" While lying in her bed remembering this, she was surprised this use of her words; usually it was difficult for her to reiterate things without becoming scatter-brained.

“Yes, I think I did say that, but I was not referencing just any work of art, correct? Didn’t I say, 'it enables the original to meet the beholder halfway?'(Benjamin).

“Yes! Yes, the original work of art…which is what I found to be the most compelling aspect of your essay. The unique work of art existing in its respectively unique location…the aura of the unique work of art! This is something I think about consistently, since I work sculpturally. My work is tangible and has a physical presence…it’s meant to be seen in person in its entire aura. Speaking of which, since you’re here in person, would you mind looking at some of my work? Like this one here, what do you think of her anatomy? ” She was becoming excited.

Walter sighed disappointingly. “Things like anatomical accuracy do not interest me. I am more interested in what you have just referenced, about the aura you believe your work possesses.  Do any photographic reproductions of your sculptures exist?”

“Well, yes…”

“So the bigger questions here are for you to answer. You’re the artist here. What I’m wondering is, how do these photographic representations of your artwork change the actual artwork? Is the aura threatened? Or are the representations beneficial to the artwork? To you as an artist? How does having these representations change the perception of your work by others? Why exactly are you making art that you prefer be seen in person? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial for you in this day and age to create work that could more easily reach the masses without them having to come and see your work in a specific location?”

                She was nearly in shock. Who did he think he was, coming into her studio space, pulling the rug out from under her and bombarding her? She almost regretted making conversation with him in the first place. Yet, she also felt a sense of relief for finally being asked these challenging questions. She took a deep breath, hoping that her mouth would be able to verbalize all that her mind now had to say.

 “Ok Walter, one question at a time here. I believe that these photos do have the ability to threaten or misplace the aura of my work, something I see as an important element of my work, but not to the extent that I will stop photographing my work.

I also believe that these photos definitely have the ability to be beneficial to my work and to myself as an artist. Today so much information exists on the internet. As an emerging artist it’s a great way to gain publicity; it’s a way to allow my peers and one day galleries and collectors to see my work, which could lead to me exhibiting my work, so that in turn it may be seen in person in its entire aura. In fact, photos of my work are what recently made my acceptance into a national ceramics competition possible, which made me think of what you stated in your essay, that “technical reproduction can put the copy of the original into situations which would be out of reach for the original itself,” (Benjamin, ).

 And for me, it is extremely important to be making sculptural work that inherently demands the presence and the pilgrimage of the viewers. One of the last things I want to do is make work that could easily contribute more to the detachment and disengagement that our society experiences when everyone is so complacent to experience life through the filter of a computer or television screen, thinking it qualifies as direct experience. This being said, I hope people venture to see my work in person despite the fact that it may also exist in a reproduction somewhere. For me, photographs are simulations of reality, and the original work of art will obviously retain more power, beauty, essence, magic, whatever you call it…aura …than a reproduction. And to me, a lot of the importance of art resides in this ability to radiate aura. You said it yourself, Walter, “Even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element, [the original’s] presence in time and space…its unique existence.” What I want to do is to make art that retains this physical presence, this unique existence, this aura…” She was out of breath.

                He looked at her and nodded with a sense of satisfaction as he stood up from the stool, straightening his overcoat. Without saying a word he nonchalantly made his way toward the door, turning to face her once he reached it.

               “You may be on to something,” he said mysteriously. “As for your girl, her calves are a little short.” He turned and continued out the door.

                She was bewildered after the encounter. Feeling a little shaken up, she took a huge therapeutic gulp of her coffee and returned to her work, again devoting all her attention to her hands in front of her. No one else was in the studio, and she didn’t mind that this was often the case. She could focus more on her work without anyone around as a potential distraction, although recently she had been longing for some company in the studio, someone to share ideas with, to argue with, to talk to about art and life.

                Still lying in bed remembering this, eyelids flittering, she was amazed at the clarity, linearity, and vividness of this dream.  This was great, because for her, reflecting upon dreams often offered insight or solutions to her problems or anxieties.

Shortly after Walter Benjamin had left, she heard footsteps, and glanced up to see who was now in the studio. It was an older woman, wearing loose fitting clothes, walking around the studio in much the same fashion that Walter had been, with keen observation. The woman made her way to the table she was working at, and straightforwardly introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Suzi Gablik.”

“Suzi Gablik!? No way! Good to meet you,” Again, taken off-guard, her heart started racing once again. What was this, some kind of set-up? A test? Why was she encountering all these….intellectual people?

“I’ve been watching you in here for a while now. Not just today, but for the past few weeks,” Suzi said.

Well, that’s not creepy or anything, she thought to herself… Although, she did feel strangely honored to be the focus of Suzi’s attention, Suzi being someone whose writing she recently had read. Dreams have a funny way of making sense of things.

“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what your work is about. I see that these are all your figures up here?” Suzi said pointing to the window with somewhat of a threatening overtone. 

Clearing her throat, she began. “Yes, those are my figures, and actually that’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. As of yet, all of my art has been narrative and self-referential. I draw upon my own experiences and memories and in doing so, I strive to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. My work is somewhat whimsical and references nostalgia for things like childlike wonder, play, fantasy, and physical interaction with one’s environment, hence the recurring use of hand gestures. I work with young children, and they inspire a lot of my aesthetic choices and subject matter. Lately though, I haven’t been referencing childhood and have instead been referencing more universal experiences. I still work narratively, but now I have become extremely interested representing the things in our lives that can be considered invisible, the things that reside in our mind and in our conscience.

 “Like this girl here. This one is about me being the only one that is truly able to take care of myself, and sometimes taking care of oneself means letting oneself go. I draw upon my own experiences and anxieties, but I hope that other people can relate to what the figures are doing.”

Suzi just continued to stare at her, knowing that as an artist she probably wasn’t finished talking about herself. Artists love to talk about themselves.

“And this one here…this one was inspired by a dream I recently had. I know that sounds rather contrived, but it was an absurdly topical dream. In the dream I had to take care of this girl, whose entire being was concentrated into this ceramic ball with her face on it. I knew nothing about her, except that I had to take care of her. I left her on this ledge while I turned my head to do something, and next thing I know she’s fallen of the ledge and broken into a billion pieces, dead. I think the dream was about destroying the things we are supposed to take care of in life, like our relationships with other people. So I brought this dream to life with this girl here, who’s about to drop the face she’s holding. I want to make other faces to be placed around her that represent other things in our lives that we are destroying, like our sense of home and relationships we should have in our life, which she will inferably be dropping off the ledge.” She was talking too much, she knew it. “Well…what do you think?” she asked Suzi.

“Well, to me, I think your intentions are a little self-centered. I mean, a lot of your time is spent in here alone, and from what you just shared with me, a lot of your work is merely about yourself. I agree that people may be able to personally relate to your experiences, but, I think your artwork could definitely be a more socially or ecologically responsible, and definitely more participatory in function. You’ve read my book, haven’t you? The Reenchantment of Art?”

“I have, yes.  I thought that although your book was stimulating and inspiring, but at the same time, it really frustrated me in the sense that it challenges a lot of my current intentions for making art. While reading your book I was second-guessing and questioning everything about myself as an artist, fearing that my art, which I see as significant and meaningful, fails in the sense that it doesn’t achieve anything of social, ecological, or humanistic relevance. At a point I was so discouraged that I questioned if I should even be making objects anymore, fearing that this mode of art object-making simply continues the trend of the work of art as the special and unique object that’s meant only to be looked at, lacking any additional practicality or usefulness!

However, I do feel that these two newest figures relate to some of the things you advocate for in your book, like the reemergence of subject matter dealing with ‘the collective unconscious…our inner world, transcendental experience, mysteries and magnanimities’ (Gablik, 53). But now I mainly feel that all my self-expression is futile and in vain, resulting in art-for-art’s sake, and this has really messed with my head to say the least!”

Suzi looked concerned, but no longer threatening. “Well, at a certain point, I do think that art made in today’s time definitely needs to go beyond the satisfaction of the artist, and beyond the limitations of the specialized gallery walls. I think the concepts behind your newest pieces are very compelling and much more interesting than those of your past work. But, I would encourage you to become more aware and more involved, and make something that can be progressively useful and beneficial to someone other than yourself. As I said in my book, ‘In the past, we have made much of the idea of art as the mirror…we have had art as a hammer…we have had art as furniture…and we have had art as the search for the self. There is another kind of art, which speaks to the power of connectedness and established bonds, art that calls us into relationship,’ (114). In other words, becoming more of a communally engaged artist is something that you would deeply benefit from.”

“I agree that it would. But for now, since I am so young and given my circumstances, I think that what I need to do now is to embark on this search for self.  I am doing this through my artistic practice, and I don’t want to feel ashamed for doing this. Although much more may be expected from me as an artist from professors, critics, society or what not, I don’t think that right now I am capable of making art that is some grand collaborative production. Right now I think it is more important that I discover who I am and what I truly care about, so one day I may apply these passions to a bigger, more actively involved motive. Have you read that article written by Steven Lambert and Stephen Duncombe, ‘An Open Letter to Critics Writing About Political Art’?”

“I haven’t, no.”

“Well, they talk about something in the article that I found really insightful for all artists, not just politically active ones. They write about a common shortcoming of artists that half-heartedly use ‘social injustice and political subject matter: making these forces objects for contemplation, and perversely, appreciation,’ (Duncombe and Lambert). This is something I don’t want to have result from making art with a half-baked social, political, or ecological commentary that only points out a problem without a solution, resulting in perverse appreciation veiled as artistic activism. For now, I’d rather stick to the path I’m on and make art that can make a smaller, more intimate impact for a smaller audience.”

“All I have to say is that this method of art making may satisfy you now, but I hope one day that you may apply your passions to result in something more altruistic. That being said, I understand where you’re coming from as a young artist, and if you eventually make art as a means for change, I’d rather see you truly know what you’re interested in rather than make engaged art out of feeling that you are obligated to. It’s good to know what you want, but maybe think about what others need at the same time.”

She stood up abruptly.  “Keep creating, and good luck.”

After Suzi made her way out of the studio, the young artist was truly baffled. She was longing for peace and quiet, because she usually doesn’t engage in this much conversation at one time. Yet as soon as she turned around to continue her work, there was some strange guy standing right by her table! And again, she did not hear him come into the studio! What’s worse, he was wearing frameless glasses and a woman’s wig.

“Duane Michals?!” she exclaimed. Now she was really happy, although she continued to wonder how all these people were managing to make their way into her studio space.

“Yes, I am. You’re conversations with Walter and with Suzi seemed to go well. Don’t worry about Suzi, she can be a little preachy. What I’m interested in is your actual work, its aesthetic as well as conceptual components. You said this piece here was inspired by a dream? I love dreams,” he said affectionately.  

“You heard those conversations? Well, yeah, it is about a dream, but with it I’m hoping to expand upon what I believe to be the message of the dream, you know, how we are destroying the things in life we are supposed to take care of?”

“I can see that. For me the piece is a little ambiguous, but that can be a powerful element. It’s similar to how I view photography, in that, 'I like photographs to be unresolved…They shouldn’t spill the beans,' (Richards 68). That being said, I can see that you work narratively, yet the narratives are open-ended,” Duane commented.

“I agree, I think a little mystery can go a long way, and I want people to feel as if they can draw their own conclusions and make up their own stories when looking at my figures. You know, with a lot of my earlier work I often feared that the figures would be too easily dismissed because to some, they could appear to be too cute or too sweet. You’ve experienced this with your own work, right, when you started adding entries to your images? I read somewhere that 'to be sincere, open and emotional, to reveal and acknowledge one’s vulnerability, as [you do], is to risk accusations of sentimentality and worse' (Livingstone, 11). This was something I felt I could relate to. But this tenderness, this intimacy and the bringing to life all that is invisible yet all that it shared among us, is what is currently driving my work; I know that’s what drives your work,” she shared. She felt as if she could be more open with Duane than she had been all day.

“Ye—” he started, before she began to interrupt. Again, she was talking too much.

“But I think my work is about something else as well. One of the things I think we are losing touch with is our humanness, in the sense that we are losing the ability—and more frighteningly the desire—to make things by hand, which is why I choose to work with the tangible materials that I do. Nicholas Carr said something in his writing The Shallows—something I think you would really enjoy reading—that because of our increasing interactions and dependence on technology, we are numbing essential parts of ourselves (212); for me that is the use of our hands. For us as artists, I think we need to retain what Carr referred to as, 'a sensitivity to what’s lost' in the current grips of technology, even if that means making work that is a little sincere. The responsibility, for me so far, can take shape when one celebrates the invisible things found in human sensations, like empathy, nostalgia, wisdom, memory, fears, desires, dreams, love, imperfection. You do this in your work, Duane, especially in your piece, It Is No Accident That You Are Reading This. I don’t know if you could tell or not, but I’ve been really inspired by your outlook on art.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m not here to talk about my own work exactly, but I appreciate you making these connections. I think that this point, hearing all you’ve had to say to Walter and Suzi, one thing that I can say to you as a young artist is that it is really important to trust in that which inspires you and to recognize what drives you; it is also essential to have idols and heroes, and it’s especially important to take chances. Also, something I continually have to remind myself of is, ‘You don’t grow when you surround yourself with people who repeat everything you have to say. You grow through contradiction’ (Richards 69). And you can’t be afraid of this contradiction, or of being ‘wrong.’ ‘The greater failure is…being afraid to make a fool of yourself, being afraid to risk’ (68). Keep this in mind,” he said reassuringly.

She smiled, “All I truly know is that I still have a lot to figure out, and I’m completely ok with that…it shouldn’t be any other way.” Saying this, they both made their way to the door, and the dream came to an end.

Feeling a warm sense of content mixed with her usual vague sense of anxiety, she got up from her bed and put on a change of clothes, and began to make her way to the studio to get to work.

Works Cited

Benjamin, Walter. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." Marxists Internet Archive. UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television, 2005. Web. 10 Dec. 2012.

Carr, Nicholas. The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains. New York: W. W. Norton & Company Inc., 2011. Print.

Duncombe, Stephen and Steve Lambert. “An Open Letter to Critics Writing About Political Art.”  Artisticactivism.org. Center for Artistic Activism, 20 Oct. 2012. Web. 20 Oct. 2012.

Gablik, Suzi. The Reenchantment of Art. New York: Thames and Hudson, 1991. Print.

Livingstone, Marco. The Essential Duane Michals. London: Little, Brown, and Company (Inc.), 1997. Print.

Richards, Judith Olch. Inside the Studio: Two Decades of Talks with Artists in New York.New York: Independent Curators International (ICI), 2004. Print.