On Paris

Last night, the world was rocked by news of violent attacks in Paris, the "city of light." Here in the United States, the news broke out as workers prepared to depart the office for the weekend, and the people of France were relaxing at cafes, restaurants and bars on a busy Friday night. For many, their lives will never be the same. They will have lost a loved one, someone they kissed goodbye that morning, or a friend they just called or traded comments with on social media. And for the people of France, their futures are now fraught with the fears of the unknown, of how they will as a society grapple with the question how to respond to terrorism.

Some early evidence point to the conflict in Syria between the Islamic State and the Western coalition as the catalyst for last night's attacks. IS has claimed responsibility, along with the downing of the Russian plane two weeks ago. The world is anxious, afraid and on high alert against future attacks. For me, the saddest part of these atrocities is its impact upon the human consciousness, of how those left behind are beset by crippling regret and doubt, uncertain of whether they can carry on with the same convictions they once had.

Here in the West, where we are untouched by the daily violence and danger faced by those in Syria and other conflict zones, it is hard for us to comprehend what life is like under those conditions. Which is why last night's attack in Paris was so shocking. For most of us, losing a loved one to violence is a rare occurrence. We take for granted that the ones we love will come home to us each night, that our belongings and livelihood are safe, and that things we know and care for will remain stable through time. This is not the realities of people who live in conflict zones. Each day brings new dangers. Each time you see you loved ones may be the last. And yet they carry on living as best as they can. Or they flee their lands through dangerous sea and land passages, with hundreds drowning or freezing to death in the process.

Last night's attacks were the results of political instability and religious conflicts set in motion over decades ago. They were the fruits of intolerance and oppression, now ripened into blood and tears for not only the people of the Middle East, but the entire globe. Those who were previously untouched by violence are now sucked into its vortexes, unable to escape its growing grasp across all demographics.

The question we need to ask ourselves is how we have each contributed to this event, whether it is through direct action or inaction. Did we participate by being silent witnesses to the Syrian conflict and not demanding that our elected officials step in to provide conflict resolution or aid? Or have we been agents of hatred and bigotry, demanding that we add more violence to the already escalating atrocities and growing anti-West sentiments? There are many questions that remain unanswered but must be asked to help us untangle the complex issue of terrorism.

For now, I would like to send courage and serenity to the people of Paris, to tell them the rest of the world is watching and hoping with our hearts that their city of light will not be diminished. That we hope they will use this event to shine their light into the dark recesses of prejudice and hatred and to create change with their continued hope and love during this difficult time.

Witch-hunts

Lately, I've been preoccupied with the story of women accused of sorcery in Papua New Guinea. An article in the Huffington Post last week detailed how women were being tortured and killed by their villages for suspected sorcery. The writer, who met with local women activists trying to combat this practice, also described the socio-economic backgrounds that lead to the culture of witch-hunting.

Photo by Vlad Sokhin from Huffington Post 

The image of this woman being publicly tortured by the mob lingered in my mind, along with another image of a woman being burnt alive. It's something that does not leave your memory - the jarring depiction of modernity juxtaposed against ancient belief systems and gender inequality. For me, this is something I feel I must address in my work somehow, because it is relevant not just in the far corner of Papua New Guinea, but also relevant to our everyday interactions as people with one another.

Violence against women is of historical nature. Throughout time, women's bodies have been traded, used, pillaged, and oppressed by various agencies. Women have only just started to be defined by something other than their bodies in this century, but the road to equality is hard and steep. Often, women are targeted because they have weaker status in society and make easier targets for those who want to confiscate their property. Other times, the witch hunt is simply an explosion of communal anxiety that manifests itself in scapegoating misfortunes on those who are either more prosperous, or who have weaker social political ties.

The phenomenon of the witch-hunt is an interesting one, in that it is present across many different cultures, and also manifests itself in times of social turmoil, when misfortunes are unexplained. It's interesting how the community vents its anger and fear through the purging of one of its own. The innocent victim bears the brunt of their fury, their bodies beaten and broken by the mob's intense anger. To the witch-hunters, they are simply cleansing their community of unwanted pestilence. The burning of witches a symbol of purification.

What I want to explore is the concept of the female body within this context of social pressures. It's interesting to me how the female body is both a symbol of desire and fear. On one hand, the female body is celebrated in western culture, with mass media's constant barrage of the ideal feminine beauty from every lifestyle magazine and ad. On the other hand, the female body is feared and controlled by mass culture in the form of slut shaming, sexual violence, and body image propaganda. In the case of the witch hunts in Papua New Guinea (surprisingly similar to the witch hunts in Salem), the female body epitomizes the evil that cannot be understood, and that which becomes the embodiment of communal fears, and outlet for growing frustrations.

I sometimes wish I could be liberated from my body, and be a formless entity defined only by my mind. This is, of course, impossible. But I feel that I must somehow convey this sense of frustration and injustice through my work, to expand the definition of the female body beyond the usual fine art motif of the reclining nude, a bourgeois fantasy of feminine ennui. Hopefully, these ideas will find their way out of my mind and become paintings. In the mean time, the research about witch craft and gender based violence is gearing me toward future work and providing me with some direction.

The Meaning of Beauty

I realized this last weekend that my hair was falling out inordinately, and that I could even see my scalp through my hair in certain areas. I could not figure out what caused this initially. But after some reflection, I realized that the prior months had been incredibly stressful as I made my job transition from one higher education institute to another. Prior to last year, I had thought I would continue working the evening shift while painting during the day. But life had other plans, and I am now at work by 8:30 a.m. each day, which has lead me to put art on the back burner.

This is my 10th year out of college, and there has been much juggling in the last decade, usually with full time school and part time job, or full time job and part time school. It's been strange to not be in school for the past year. A part of me misses the routine of drawing, of arriving at the studio first thing in the morning and drawing for hours. But another part of me realizes I must move on from these studies and find my own voice in my work.

Right now is perhaps the most difficult period of my artistic life thus far - figuring out what I want to paint or draw, wondering if there is any value to any of my ideas, while battling fatigue and fear to actually devote myself to studio time. It feels like everything hinges on me getting to the studio each evening, and each time I fail to make it out of my apartment is yet another failure.

Things reached a breaking point when I noticed my hair loss this last week, I told myself that it was time for me to practice some self care, and to not push myself so hard. The constant pressure to do something, to make something of my time and to perform was causing me so much stress that I could not do much except stew in anxiety and then battle through another day or work and unproductive studio time.

Rockeby Venus by Diego Velasquez

It also lead me to think about the idea of beauty and permanency. A lot of contemporary artists paint in similar genres. Examples include seated/reclining nudes, portraits, landscapes, or allegory. What I find intriguing is that few artists use models who actually look like real people, as in people with wrinkles, scars, sags, and other imperfections. A lot of artists will make a model look more perfect in their work, thereby enhancing the idea that beauty is the study of perfection rather than truth, and that physical beauty is the universal language of human desire. However, the human condition is one of continuous decay and regeneration, and the processes of aging and death are rarely represented in paintings, since most artists are fixated upon capturing beauty. Even when aging is represented, it is more of a study in technical proficiency rather than commentary on the actual process of aging itself.

While I'm the product of the atelier system, which has revived classical drawing and painting and given many contemporary artists sound techniques, I have been feeling more and more drawn to non representational art, mainly for their devotion to exploring contemporary issues. Few artists I know of in the contemporary field are exploring topics such as gender, poverty, and politics. It seems like the market is being saturated with genre paintings catering to patrons who want to decorate their homes with works of similar aesthetics.

So what is the artist's choice? Granted some artists are creating work outside of these genres (Vincent Desiderio, Steven Assael, Rose Freymuth-Frazier), but these seem to be the exceptions and not the rule. While there is something hugely satisfying about carefully rendering an object so that the viewer is awed by the illusion created, something seems to be missing from the contemporary painting world. There is a disconnect between contemporary realism and the rest of the world, as if we are representing the 1 percent of privilege that exists outside of the realm of the 99 percent faced with real problems.

What is the purpose of art if not to speak truth? For beauty will fade, but truth remains. I grow tired of allegory and talking in circles, and wish for something more visceral, more connected to the actualities in which we live. I'm not speaking of painting to shock or to glorify ugliness and pain, but rather depicting something that calls to the humanity within each of us, outside of the ideologies of mass culture and consumption, something that would be sincere and true. Perhaps this is the direction in which my work will progress, and I must find my own voice and vision in this grand tapestry that we call life...