Good art asks questions, bad art gives answers.
Questions asked by art can come along in a very direct manner, sometimes radical, as well as in a total subtle way; they can be colorful or plain, a play of shadows, light and dark; they can be of sound or rest in the sound of silence – yet they are universal! This is why art – in whatever form or shape and if we like it or not, understand it or not, connect to it or not – has a deeper meaning for us as individuals, as cultures and for the world as such. The only task we have is to listen to these questions, to open up to them, to let them come closer and be moved by them. At this point, the universal then turns into something personal – the personal which emerges from the artist and the personal which it meets in us, the viewer. It can be a total different feeling or viewpoint and exactly that’s the beauty and value of it as there is never one way of seeing but always one world.
Art, at its best, allows this kind of intermediate space as source of origin for the new, the unknown, the expansion – both inside and outside.
I’m writing about non-duality, high-sensitivity, the power of intuition and energy as matter, direction, life and… art!
My art writing is not involved in any unnecessary “discourse production”, classical “review” or the irrelevance of curatorial rhetoric, but rather a way of exploring big questions of life through art, immersion and dialogue.
The Art Blog
The Aesthetics of The Real
All his life, Gregory Bateson was on a quest to find the “pattern” that everything connects. I really cannot say at this point if he found a final answer to this question. In any event, it would have been his answer. The question leads me directly to that mysterious figure of thought that can only ever be its beginning: myself. In order to be able to enter into a sphere in which I can come up with a response, I must first of all have answered for myself: Who am I? Who has not asked himself this very question at some point in his life? And if there are answers to it, such as ‘I’m Tina’, ‘I’m an art scholar’ – who is it saying that? What would happen or remain if especially the last part of the sentence drops out? The great, indescribable, scary, unknown I AM.
And things turned out as they mostly do in life: Unforeseen. Read on…