At the opening for my show at the Haen Gallery in Asheville, a young woman approached me, telling me first that she had a piece of mine and she loved the work. We talked for a bit then she came out with the inevitable.
“You’re not what I had expected. I thought you might be wearing a beret or a cape or something like that.”
I get that a lot.
People expect something much different than I appear to be. More flamboyant, I guess. Maybe more boorish. Maybe like this guy, Salvador Dali, who exemplified that stereotype of the crazy artist. But they’re faced with me- a thick-waisted, middle-aged guy with a sloppy gray beard. I used to kid with the folks at the Principle Gallery that I would show up at a show one day in a Dali-like manner, swooping in to hold court in my flowing black cape, waving my arms about in dramatic flourishes. Maybe wearing a monocle? I sometimes wonder if people would look at my work differently if I donned a cape and had a long waxed mustache. Would they find different attributes in the paintings? Would they find a different meaning in each piece?
I don’t know. I hope not. But I do know there is an illusion behind each person’s impression of a piece of art, that it is a delicate web that supports how they value a piece and that can be affected by my words or actions or even appearance. That is one of the reasons I’m a little reticent to do this blog. I could write something off the cuff, something that I might soon realize was a product of flawed logic, and quickly destroy someone’s whole interpretation of my work.
Perhaps that is not giving the work enough credit for its own strength and life. Perhaps this is the flawed logic I mentioned. Whatever the case, it’s something I bear in mind. But for the time being, I will keep the cape in storage and stick with the credo of my childhood hero, Popeye: “I yam what I yam.”
And that’s all that I am…
Redtree Times 
Concern with whether or not the artist looks the part confirms how difficult it is for a piece of art to be appreciated for what it is by itself. Dali was wise to this situation and developed his ‘artist persona’ to better market his work to the masses.
Have you ever read ‘The Painted Word’ by Tom Wolfe? Though it was long ago that I read it in an Anthropology of Art class, as I recall, it explored why people have so many pre-conceived ideas about artists.
I’m an artist so I understand where you are coming from. However I look at it like this. Long after you’re dead your works will stand on their own. So why not now? I don’t think that you being who you are can effect the way your work is perceived. Essentially it is because of who you are that the work came into existence. I think that when other’s see the unassuming artist behind the work it will impact them yes, but I don’t believe that you can hinder the response to your own work. You are the artist, this is the art. They go hand in hand.
*sigh*
I look at it in the large scale and it’s sort of hard to explain. In the end though I don’t believe in changing who you are for others. The same “thick-waisted, middle-aged guy with a sloppy gray beard” is the same person who put color to bristles and brought life to a canvas. To change who you are would almost make the artwork a lie, since you’re one and the same…..
This makes me sound a little crazy huh? Oh well. I am who I am 😉
~Vestque~
I understand what you’re saying and agree, in theory. I, too, do not believe in changing who are for others and I certainly would never change for the sake of appearance. I think this post is more about meeting the artist on a personal level and having that meeting change your perception of the work. As a young man, I wanted to write and went to see an author speak at a local college. He had written a much beloved novel (you would know the title, I’m sure) and after the talk I went to the reception with my notes and many questions. He held court and was obnoxious. Half-drunk, he rudely blew off my request for some advice for a 17-year old aspiring writer. I was crushed. To this day, I cringe when I hear his name and have never read another single word he has written. Does that lessen the influence of his body of work? No. Does it lessen my appreciation of that work? Certainly. I have collectors of my work who refuse to meet me for just this reason and I fully understand and respect that view. The work means something to them that is beyond me personally.
Aaaaah! I understand now. With such an extreme case, most definitely your personal value for their work has diminished. *ponders*
Maybe some distance is needed between art and artist. Yet you’re still a person. I think it is wrong to stay completely silent because of the fear that your works’ value will be affected. I personally love knowing the artist behind the art. Places like Redbubble.com welcome it actually. So maybe its a little harder for my mind to grasp the concept. Yet examples like the one you gave does seem to put a thorn in my ideals. Hmmm.
I think it’s the idea that the artist did not care how his mannerisms reflected on his work (If they did then they wouldn’t have behaved so badly!) You’ve had a first hand experience as to when the artist has diminished the art. Through being aware I don’t think that you are in danger. (Or I should say you’re in less danger of affecting your work since you’re not gonna show up drunk or anything, lol!) Yet people are all different. Meeting you would not have an effect on what I thought of your work, but that’s just me. So, I think it’s great to respect people’s wishes as you do. Some want more, some want less. But bottom line I don’t think you should hinder yourself by not expressing your musings and thoughts and feelings. Everyone has the right to express themselves. If people don’t want to know more about you then they simply won’t visit the blog 😉 You have a right to write, just like they have a right not to read. But I wanna read, so keep going, LOL.
~Vestque~
redtreetimes, as a teenager I too had an experience with a writer that removed all the light from his work. Thankfully he wasn’t the only poet or writer I had an opportunity to meet as a young person. The others, for the most part, showed much more humility and kindness.
Artists, like everyone else, are more than the work of their hands and minds. But because their work has such emotional and aesthetic appeal, it’s often more difficult for both us and them to separate them from their art.
In the Benedictine Rule (written about 1400 years ago) one of the guidelines states that artists are to be watched for any sign that they are identifying themselves too much with their work. If so, for the good of their soul, they are removed from practising their art or craft and put to work at other tasks. Something for all artists to keep in mind.