I think what is most startling about Rauschenberg’s work are the ways in which it looks nothing like work at all. Some painters paint what they feel, others have an agenda, others don’t frankly give a flip, but Rauschenberg is not like any of them. Rauschenberg’s paintings and especially his sculptures are all about poetry. He goes on to use colors and forms and weight and weightlessness and harmony and chaos as words in an unfinished sentence. I liken him to William Faulkner and the garbled syntax of stream of consciousness. Yet, nothing is ever forced, nothing ever contrived. All is in its place, regardless of syntax and grammar, but without the pretension and political fervor of Dada. I was recently brought out of a long slumber in my work by a book that I had purchased at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth entitled Rauschenberg Sculpture. Inspiration hasn’t seemed so close since I walked through Martin Creed’s installation of Half the Air in a Given Space at the Nasher Sculpture Center. Is it wrong for an artist to reinvent himself? But really, I am going to absorb this Rauschenbergian philosophy of the simple. Works like Sor Aqua (one of his Venetians and pictured below [bathtub]) from 1973 have, literally, an air about them. They seem weightless like the stuff of dreams all while simultaneously making one aware of how grounded on earth we really are. Many have claimed that Rauschenberg’s work has a touch of the religious to it, and I wholeheartedly agree. People appreciate, however, that he never seems preachy. Really, how do you expect a pile of junk strung together to preach. Yet to me, it has spoken a sermon of great value. In my own work, I often approach spiritual and Christian subjects but I create with the intent towards nuanced meanings. In other words, I try to make my message very evident but my preaching very subtle. I want people to relate to the art. Now, here’s the trouble, works like Robert Rauschenberg’s are hardly universal, despite what your curator may want you to believe. The art world must face the fact that, in reality, there will always be a man or woman who will look at the art and call it useless junk. And this is where the metaphorical poetry takes over… I've learned a lot about The Lord from Rauschenberg’s work. Not to put him on a pedestal or anything, but I appreciate his methods because I see in them a commonality with Christ’s. For example, at its most basic, his art mirrors God’s saving work by choosing to turn junk into works of art: a thing of refuse hated by all, into a priceless thing of both value and beauty. Just as God elects His chosen people, pulls them from destruction and then transforms them into new creations, Art can be a way of doing just that. Turning trash into poetry. Rauschenberg’s works are, to me, all joy and optimism, despite the materials being indicative of only decay and rust. It gives me hope to think that The Lord has chosen me- a decaying lot- to create both poetry (which Rauschenberg does also with his art) and as a part of a grand narrative (which Rauschenberg never approaches). I’ll leave you with this quote from that book mentioned above: “He takes the most rejected parts of our surroundings and makes them be the most beautiful. And it’s by a kind of magic. There must be a challenge, in the sense that they are so awful, before the transformation happens.” [1] [1] Turrell, Julia Brown. Rauschenberg Sculpture. Fort Worth: Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, 1995. |
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Nickolai Lanieris currently an art major at the University of North Texas. His work pulls from many places; most prominently his work centers on his Christian faith. He creates with the intent that his work will glorify the Lord. His recent drawings and paintings have focused on the home structure and how it is formed, and work from this series has been displayed in multiple galleries. He aims for his artistic endeavors to be as diverse, scattered, and as deep as his thoughts. Archives
November 2015
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