Ira Glass, of NPR fame, was recently quoted as saying that everyone who got into the arts did so because they had good taste.

While I don’t entirely disagree with Mr. Glass, I do think it also has something to do with a person possessing an augmented sense of creativity, which admittedly, like having good taste, is a bit of an abstract idea.

The gears began turning: what is creativity and where does it come from? Why do some people seem to have so much more of it than others? Is it nature, nurture, or somewhere in between?

Let’s start at the beginning… what is it?

Creativity is a pretty loosely defined concept, and it’s been claimed that there are more than a hundred different definitions within the literature on the subject. The term applies to an enormous array of efforts, and could safely be said to exist in the method of its application rather than the product of its application. For the purposes of this treatment (and my interests in it) let us proceed with the following.

cre•a•tiv•i•ty (noun)
the use of the imagination or original ideas, especially in the production of an artistic work.

Now, I could go on and we could delve into the merits that make a work artistic in value and practice, but I know I only have your attention for a relatively short amount of time. Let’s get into the meat of things… where does it come from?

We can all thank the Renaissance for yet another innovation, which in this case, is the attribution of creativity to the individual and not a munificent 3rd party. Prior to the Renaissance, like so many things good and bad, the blame/praise was placed upon some deity or supernatural entity – certainly no human could take credit for the glory of aesthetic magnificence – not when it was clearly the work of the divine! I suppose this was a double edged sword as one could easily blame society’s ills on the same sources as those thanked for creative inspiration. Ye old “demon made me do it” defense. Worked every time.

Not surprisingly a correlation between intelligence and creative ability has been explored many times. Somewhat surprisingly, however, is the fact that past the threshold of what is deemed “normal” intelligence as defined by IQ, “the relationship between creativity and classically measured intelligence [breaks] down.” (attributed to the work of J. P. Guilford) Though that may be true, both my personal experience and that of many others seems to reason that “creative” types are somehow different than seemingly similar “non-creative” types – neither better nor worse – just different. A new study led by John Kounios, professor of Psychology at Drexel University and Mark Jung-Beeman of Northwestern University would seem to support just this thought. The study, published in the journal Neuropsychologia, reveals a distinct pattern of brain activity, even at rest, in people who tend to solve problems with a sudden creative insight — an “Aha! Moment” – compared to people who tend to solve problems more methodically. (Read more about this on Science Daily)

Different in thought or not, in the world of art, originality of concept is often enough for something or someone to be deemed creative and to a lesser degree, the original re-interpretation of an existent idea. There are many who will argue that there are no original ideas and that all ideas spring from the loins of another idea, and that from an idea before it. To me that seems like a bit of a catch-22, but I understand what they’re trying to say: the vast majority of human ideas and knowledge are built upon the ideas and discoveries of those who have come before us.

In college I was once tasked to list my artistic inspirations: those artists who had come before me and deeply influenced my imagery and concepts. At the time, I was insulted that my professor would suggest that my work was derivative, for that was how I interpreted what it was I had been asked to acknowledge. How naive of me! In short order my eyes were opened and my mind expanded: I came to realize just how important and foundational the work of those artists who had come before was to my own efforts. I felt more creative and inspired after the fact than I had before, but the point is that my young and under-educated mind had equated originality and creativity in such a way that did not allow for external influence. In hindsight I believe that to be a dangerous and common conceit amongst early artists.

Sigh… so, creativity is not a direct result of elevated intelligence, nor does its genesis lie solely within. It would, however, seem a safe assumption that without internally inspired creative thought or processing the external inspirers of creativity would find no soil in which to sow their seeds.

There are many in academic circles today who believe that creativity is set to take on an ever more important role in defining our place in the world, and to that extent, recommend that we nurture creativity as best we can in our young. That would suggest that though innate creative ability may be more developed in some than others, it is also not unlike a muscle in its ability to be strengthened or amplified through nurturing and practice. Though not scientific in its backing, I believe that the nurturing provided by my parents (the offering of markers and pencils, being allowed to spend long periods of time alone and drawing… and eating paste, etc, etc.) deeply influenced my own creative ability. Had their inclinations been otherwise my current view of the world and how I choose to spend my time might be very, very different.

Though this is by no means an in-depth scientific inquiry into the mysteries of creativity, it would seem that creative individuals are in fact wired differently and often as mystified by the workings of their own creativity as the next person. One might then assume that at its most basic level creativity veers towards the metaphysical as no scientific data can account for its augmented presence in some and not others – do two creative parents assuredly yield a creative offspring? It is, however, personally reassuring to learn that creativity can be bolstered through direct intervention, though, as Wikipedia notes, there is a dark side to creativity, in that it represents a “quest for a radical autonomy apart from the constraints of social responsibility”. In other words, by encouraging creativity we are encouraging a departure from society’s existing norms and values. Expectation of conformity runs contrary to the spirit of creativity. Sir Ken Robinson argues that the current education system is “educating people out of their creativity.” If that isn’t a call for more arts in school, I don’t know what is. If Robinson’s argument is to be believed then, in the future will creativity, like a rare metal mined from the Earth, skyrocket in value as its presence diminishes within society?

In the end, our exploration of the topic of creativity has managed instead to explain why some have less than others, rather than why some have more – one thing is for certain: the answer to where it comes from lay not in a simple equation but in a complex web of genetics, environment and societal priorities. It would seem that creativity stands as one of life’s great enduring mysteries; its generosity never wavering in the face of its enigmatic underpinnings. Simply put, thank goodness for small favors.

"The Emperor's New Clothers III (3)" left, "A New Religion" right, mixed media, 12" x 12", 2012

It is with great pleasure that I introduce two new works set to be shown at the 2012 SCOPE New York City show taking place the 8-11 of March. The works will be for sale and can be found at the chashama booth during opening hours.

The first work, The Emperor’s New Clothes III (3), is part of an ongoing series that explores vanity and artifice in modern society.

The second work, A New Religion, is the first in a new series of work which speaks to the influence of science on man’s modern belief systems. It features specialized surgical tools stitched to fur lined canvases by golden thread.

Click the links above to see the works in a larger format.

As the High Line Park’s transplanted grasses waved in the gentle summer breeze wafting in from across the Hudson I stood transfixed.

My mind struggled to catch up with what I was looking at: it looked like a carnival, there were people running around the base of the inflatable “sculptures”, but there were no children in sight. Everyone present was an adult playing at being a child.

As I descended the stairs I noted that there were people actually going inside of some of the sculptures, like some giant, mad-cap bouncy castle… and no one was wearing shoes!

It was pure magic and I noted that not more than 30 ft from there a pop-up beer garden had sprung to life which also featured a variety of food trucks and their offerings. I gleefully entered the fray. It was a night to remember.

The Delicious Monster!

The Monstera Deliciosa or Delicious Monster would seem well described as a cross between an ear of corn and a plated dinosaur, while its taste lies squarely between that of a banana and a pineapple.

I’ve had the pleasure of ingesting this fruit on more than one occasion. Only recently, however, had I taken the time to photograph it. There is a multi-day delay between when you get the fruit home and when it’s then ready to eat. For easy ripening it’s suggested that you stand the fruit up in a large glass, tip down (see photo below). When the scales begin to fold outward and drop off, the internal flesh is then ready to eat. It’s worth noting that if eaten while unripe the fruit can irritate the throat and the latex of the leaves and vines can create rashes on the skin.

Monstera deliciosa is a creeping vine native to the tropical rainforests of southern Mexico south to Colombia, and many of you have likely seen it before (though not fruiting) as it’s a popular choice of interior decorators. This member of the Arum family is an epiphyte with aerial roots, able to grow up to 60 ft high with large, leathery, glossy, heart-shaped leaves.

Like so many worldwide fruits, it’s common names are numerous, including Ceriman, Swiss Cheese Plant (or just Cheese Plant), Fruit Salad Plant, Monster fruit, Monsterio Delicio, Monstereo, Mexican Breadfruit, Monstera, split-leaf philodendron, Locust and Wild Honey, Windowleaf, Delicious Monster, Balazo and Penglai Banana.

In a world where foreign (and somewhat alien) fruits can be delivered to our doorsteps just shy of optimal eating one should not be surprised to read that the Delicious Monster is not cheap. Noting that a complete fruit takes nearly a year to mature it makes the close to $5 cost (from the most economical grocery store in New York City!!!) almost bearable.

Click the image below for a larger multi-photo collection of the fruit’s lifecycle (once it’s in your home.)

"sigh..."

As with any profession, there are going to be positives and negatives to the job. As an artist, one of the negatives is often cited as the relatively large amount of direct (and sometimes personal) rejection one can face.

The very nature of being an artist, or at least one who doesn’t create in a vacuum, is that you intend to put your work out there to be judged. That’s part of the plan for many. And the fact of the matter is, there has never been an artist whose work is universally loved. That’s not to say there aren’t artists whose work speaks to the majority, but rather, there has never been an artist whose every effort is loved by every human on the planet. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that for every person who passionately embraces your work, there is someone out there who just as passionately loathes it.

Some wilt at the first intersection of their art and rejection, forever turned from the path of showing more work. Others choose to create work solely for personal pleasure and do not want nor need the acceptance or adulation of others, while still others thrive on that very acceptance and praise. And yet, some artists seem to shed the effects of rejection like beaded raindrops on a modern raincoat – continually moving forward through a landscape bereft of external support and critical/popular praise.

Personally, I’ve found rejection easier to bear as I move forward in my career – I’ve long held the belief (both professionally and socially) that you can’t please all of the people all of the time. Truly believing that statement has helped me through some tender moments, though at the end of it all, a rock solid faith in my own work is the driving force behind my continued exploration of art as a career. I have been turned down by passers-by at festivals, I have been snidely criticized as a hobbyist by peers, fired from art related jobs, snubbed by galleries and collectors alike, rejected from group shows, and I have been rejected from grad school (I only applied to one school, one time, so I don’t want to be too dramatic there,) but the important thing is that… each… and… every… time… I went back for more. Conversely, for every critical experience I’ve endured there have been just as many positive, and I (an eternal optimist by genetic predisposition) place far greater stock in the power of the positive than I do in the negative. Specifically I’ve found it helpful to have multiple submissions/projects/targets/etc. lined up, so that when one is out the door, I am already refocusing on the next, constantly looking to move forward rather than dwelling on the “what if” of the last effort.

When confronted by rejection I’ve found the array of emotions that can manifest to be, at times, bewildering. There’s anger, disbelief, sadness, anxiety and occasionally the odd-ball sensation of relief or ambivalence. It’s that last one I fear the most – as I’ve been told it is often worse to be ignored than it is to be loved or hated, and the feeling of ambivalence that can arise post-rejection is akin to ignoring the opportunity for growth that rejection can bring to the artist. I try to embrace the criticism from a coldly rational place, attempting to look closely at the comments made or the reasoning behind the rejection in order to determine if there’s merit there. If there is, I see if I can incorporate that into my workflow or work where appropriate. If I find no merit, I’m sure to double check and speak with others about it so as to make sure I’m not being dismissive from a place of backlash emotion or misplaced perspective. Needless to say, it doesn’t always work, and sometimes my feelings are hurt. However, once I’ve recovered I try to remind myself that rejection is simply another form of criticism – one that when properly wielded can result in unrivaled opportunities for growth. After all, don’t most artists jump at the opportunity to be a part of professional critique panels and the like?

Having a support network of friends, or fellow artists to help digest and make sense of the inevitable rejection is priceless for many. Some like to wallow in the feelings that rejection brings – inspiring them to create from a dark place. Many take solace in the fact that rejection is often a shared burden: an experience nearly all artists can sympathize with. In the end, however, there is no right way to handle rejection – save for not letting it destroy your ambition or dreams. To say anything else as though it were fact would actually just be an expression of opinion. And as we know, everyone has an opinion… which can sometimes manifest as a rejection of your work.

"Away We Go", paint, paper on paper, 22 x 30 in

Welcome to “Essential Artists”: a celebration of the arts, and a rare chance for one artist to assume the role of fan.

I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Jonathan Allen at an event held at New York’s Whitney Museum this past year. It was only later, after a volley of social encounters that I was to become familiar with his artwork. What I found was an explosion of color and subject matter that often re-imagined familiar tropes into a kaleidoscopic spread that was at times both soothing and startling, though always aesthetically pleasing.

Within the professionally minded world of the arts it is not uncommon for the intention of a work to be prized above its aesthetic. As a matter of personal taste I find I am often unable to disassociate the two, and so it was with great pleasure I noted that Allen’s work manages a fine balance of both – a rare talent indeed. As a 2008 recipient of a Pollock-Krasner grant and graduate of the vaunted Bronx Museum’s Artist In The Marketplace program, his CV reads like a “How To” manual of how to make it in the art world.

It was then with a hint of excitement that I realized his first US solo show was set to take place at a gallery I too had had the good fortune of showcasing work with: the Lower East Side bastion of creative expression known as Lu Magnus.

If you’re in the area I can safely say that one would be remiss in not attending this stateside solo debut – it’s sure to tickle the senses – and if in the market, there will be no better time to snap up this promising young artists’ work.

Jonathan Allen: Explore Thyself
November 4th – December 18th, 2011
Lu Magnus
55 Hester St (btwn Ludlow & Essex)
New York, NY

To see more work by the artist please visit his website: www.jonathanallen.org

I stood over the pile of shattered safety glass that had been swept against the median. It looked different in the daylight. I could still see the lights reflecting on the faces of the crowd that had gathered: red, orange, white, blue, red, orange, white, blue, red, orange…

The accident had obviously been terrible: the car was on its side and a swarm of black clad firemen were prying and pulling at the shell with their Jaws of Life. It was then that I noticed that there wasn’t another car. As if reading my mind, or noting the way I was looking around, the man next to me muttered, “there was only the one car… and the pedestrian.” That’s when I saw the paramedics attending to the body that lay in the street. It was almost 25 feet from where the car sat in the intersection. I was aghast – and yet I continued to stand there, transfixed by the horror (or spectacle) of it all. My friend, who stood behind me, had grown increasingly agitated.

“Why are they all standing around? Why are they filming? Taking pictures? Laughing?”

I found myself looking in his direction and saying something about human nature. Our dark heart. Everyone love’s a trainwreck.

As I shuffled the pile with the tip of my boot, I reached down and collected the items in the image above. Looking around I realized that they were the only physical remnants of what had happened at that intersection the night before. They struck me more powerfully than any photo from the scene could have: they were there, in my hand and not on a screen.

click the above image to enlarge

For an artist, finding your way to a new body of work can often be a lot like finding love: when least expected or sought – there it is!

Such is the case with my newest emerging project, “…and with blind faith do we charge into the promise of tomorrow.”

As this is a sneak peek I don’t want to give too much away (the dust is still settling) but suffice it to say that this seemingly simple body of line drawings deals with sight, trust, representation and the incredibly complex relationship we are creating with our machines.

How were the drawings made? What do the books mean (see image below)? What’s with the talk about “our machines”?

All will soon be revealed; eyes peeled: the complete project is to be released in the next month or so.

installation as imagined in a gallery setting

The bodega lights blinked their blink and the mechanical horse groaned beneath the weight of the deadly serious man astride it.

There was something hypnotic to the lonely scene: the whine of the ride’s struggling motor seemingly the loudest sound, drowning out even the incessant aural assault that is Brooklyn traffic.

It was only later when I looked back at the picture that the surreal nature of it struck home: he’d been alone.

a sci-fi commission comes to life

Welcome to the first installment of “Essential Artists”: a new recurring feature on Clogvert. It’s a celebration of the arts, and a rare chance for one artist to assume the role of fan.

Now, I’ve found that artists for the most part do not help one another – this is not due to a pervasive and sinister sense of selfishness, but rather, the acts of creating and simply promoting yourself take so much time and energy that there’s bound to be little left in the tank to help your fellow artist. In my own small way, with this column I’d like to change that and celebrate the artists whose work I’m drawn to, no matter the medium or subject.

I stumbled upon the work of Bodie Chewning while grabbing a quick cup of java at the SoHo, New York bastion of heart palpitations known as Gimme! Coffee. Honestly, and as cavalier as it may sound, I don’t often take too great a notice of the work hung on the walls of coffee shops – but obviously, this time was different.

I’ve long been a fan of science fiction and comic books (in fact, they’re the reason I became an artist): Bodie’s work, as I’d come to learn, often speaks to both genres in style and subject.

So arresting was the quality of line and general sense of fantastic imagination that I tracked the artist down and commissioned a personal work (shown above – click image or here to enlarge).

Chewning, who is self taught, also produces t-shirt graphics, accessory illustrations and designs for both major & minor apparel companies in New York City.

To see other examples of his work and to find out more head on over to his website (www.bodiechewning.com).