Realism and Style

Robert Brawley
Discreet Serenity of the Ordinary, 2005
oil on board
9 by 14 inches

The State of the Union
Art is a conversation, with intrinsic value because it connects people and spreads perspectives, opening minds to be more inclusive, and therefore more compassionate. And why is compassionation the drift of value? Why is love always at the bottom (or top) of it all? Well, art will tell you why, if you trust it, and listen to it guide you along a very real, and sometimes very scary journey, from one extreme to the next, and always into the self and truth and beauty that is at the core of realty. Art can take you there, and bring you back home safely, if you trust it.

Minimalism
Minimalism is an intention aware of the fact that the art is expressing universals (whether that be in the chaos of John Cage, or in the order of Steve Reich). When it is freed from, or contains a minimal amount of, the individual hand.…when it has minimal ego, it is Minimalism.(in this case, "minimal ego" also means more universal, or more spiritual.) This is also the definition of later forms of Realism, which is why I am mentioning it now. However, sometimes the individuality of the artist's style is used to reflect the Single-ness or One-ness of the Univers(als) and therefore, "pure style" and uniqueness is in itself Minimalist.

Minimalism is therefore first and foremost a specific intention, and this intention can and does appear in many different ways. Like contemporary dance, everyone’s minimalism is different. But the intention to express the universals is the same.

The note is just a note. The mountain is just a mountain. The stone is just a stone. Radical Realism is nothing special, like nondual reality, and yet it is singular, "of which the plural is unknown."

Bob told me once that at the moment he was most interested in how light fills space and falls over forms.


Robert Brawley
"An Instance of Grace"
oil on board 2002


My dad asked me a great question the other day: “What was the style of Picasso at the end of his life other than commercialism?”
Which brings us to the topic of the day:

Style
In art school one’s “Style” is addressed, often with unrelenting criticism. “Style” can be seen as an altering of the real in order to make is more personalized, and this can offend many people. Psychologically, style is identifying a mark as your own expression. But interestingly, often when an artist really looks at what they are trying to express, when they look into the fundamental question ”What am I doing?” they usually find that they are trying to express something universal. And the universals can be seen as being devoid of any personal style. This doesn't mean that Realism is better than abstraction. Devoid of style means that you can see or experience the message of the work before you see the artist’s hand.

Did Vincent van Gogh have style? Or was his rapid, thick brush strokes simply the most economic and efficient way to communicate his message? Was he trying to have a style, a personal signature, or was he trying to get a vision out of his body before the manic state possessed him again? See the difference? In his own words…

"I am not strictly speaking mad, for my mind is absolutely normal in the intervals, and even more so than before. But during the attacks it is terrible - and then I lose consciousness of everything. But that spurs me on to work and to seriousness, as a miner who is always in danger makes haste in what he does."

Generally, to a Realist and to a Minimalist, style (and I am talking here about intentional style, signature, or altering) is considered narcissistic and limiting in the scope, power, and honesty of the artwork. "This is mine! Look at me!" one's special style says. Style is the drive in us to alter the real, and some art actually pokes fun at, or utilizes, or brings to awareness that drive in all of us to write our name down on something, identify with it, and claim is as us. Some art has "Style" as its object.

And it's true that "Abstraction" and "Style" are methods that can be used successfully to get powerful universals across to the viewer, but the successfulness depends on the reception/context in which the art is presented. It is maybe easier, or less elitist (more universal), to work using a free hand, not bound to any limit or style. (Styles are also often considered to be knots or ruts that an artist falls into, and it decreases the amount of marks and styles and vocabulary they can learn.) And in all, with languages, vocabulary is love, and having a large vocabulary is filling with endless amounts of styles to move freely through. A general rule of thumb is that it might be best to have a large library of different styles of mark and color from which to choose for building the symphony of your vision.

But style is not inherently "bad" or "immature" or "violently narcissistic." In fact, style (or individuality) is a very real aspect of our lives. Ram Dass explains the importance of accepting our various neurosis as simply aspects of our style. My friend Terri Fidelak reminded me the other day that "a style, phony as it may be, is something we all have, and to accept its presence is the most genuine of all-in that so doing we accept both what we are and are not as artists, or rather, what we are not yet."

Did Rothko, who is so easily recognized, want to have a style, or did he just want to express universal feelings and atmospheres? Probably both. Before he committed suicide he told us that we should listen to his visual minimalism in chapels, and he constructed for us the Rothko Chapel in Huston, Texas. Was there personal style and self-centeredness in that, or was is just the best, honest tool he knew to employ at that moment to express his fading vision? Either way, events at the Chapel have brought leaders, heroes, artists, musicians, scientists, scholars, and spiritual teachers from all over the world (such as Nelson Mandela, the Dalai Lama, Steve Reich, and Huston Smith) to share their knowledge, experience, talents, and stories with the citizens of Huston, Texas. In my oppinion that is really a great thing to leave behind. That's great style!


Jaunted writes beautifully about the chapple: "Super-minimalist Mark Rothko did 14 paintings for the inside of this interfaith chapel in black-laced blues and greens and reds. Sitting inside the chapel, it isn't uncommon to see or hear at least three different prayer sessions taking place. Car horns and construction noises disappear into its thick walls; Anne Lamott described it as "preternaturally quiet, like being inside the mind of someone whose eyes are closed while he or she is praying." The shock of finding such a sacred space -- sacred in its conception, not necessarily in practice -- in the middle of one of America's largest cities will stay with you long after you walk out into the sunshine."