Dune Landscape, 2007
oil on canvas, 18 x 24 cm

I was born in New York City in 1969. My parents encouraged me to draw and paint from a young age. As a teenager, I painted landscapes in oil, but I felt that I should seek a more practical career.

I went to college at the University of Chicago and got my BA in biology in 1991. After that I did research at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences. I studied visual perception and the primate visual system. I got my Ph.D. in 1995.

During post-doctoral research in Amsterdam, I rediscovered my interest in art and decided to become a painter. I had an exhibition at Galerie Klerkx & van Heerden in Haarlem, The Netherlands in 2001. Since then most of my work has been for private commission.

Detail from funeral pyre scene on an Attic Geometric krater, second half of 8th century BC

Man being eaten by a crocodile, first half of 21st century AD

The ceramic painting above I borrowed from Victor Bryant’s excellent ceramics website. The drawing on paper is by Fran, who is almost five years old.

The images are similar in that they both depict narrative scenes, and both make use of simple geometric shapes. The vase painting probably represents top quality artwork of its era, making use of a consistent representational system which covers this large vase and many others (presumably painted by many different adults working over many years). The children’s drawing is a one-of-a-kind sketch.

At first glance, the vase painting seems like children’s art made by adults. A key factor that distinguishes the adult work is the consistent repetition of patterns — across the detail, across the vase and across the historical period. There is a discipline here that is alien to the work of a child drawing as play. This use of repetition has substantial advantages. It imparts rhythm and complexity to the work that is lacking in Fran’s image. Repetition creates a decorative effect that masks to some degree the simplicity of the representation. For the sake of comparison, we can apply repetition to Fran’s image:

We can also isolate a figure from the vase painting. With these simple digital manipulation we have not transformed Fran into an Attic geometric vase painter, or turned the vase painter into a child. We have, I think, narrowed the gap.

What I think is interesting here is that what presumably passed for fine work in the 8th century BC probably could be made by children, if they were compelled to work within a disciplined productive system (as the adults were).

Discipline and rigid compliance to style are factors that are quite contrary to our modern notions of art, however. Is the ancient vase painting art, or is it nothing more than systematized children’s decoration?

The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.
–Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Ernest

Has art dealer Edward Winkleman become a cultural icon? If so, it seems we should pay attention to what he is saying . . .

But first, here are some other things worth reading:

1. The Intrepid Art Collector, probably the worst-titled book ever. If you are an artist, don’t walk, run and buy this book. It is for you — it could be titled “What every artist should know about the art world.” One of these days I want to talk about it in depth here on Art & Perception. I interviewed author Lisa Hunter back in September.
2. What’s in a name? If you want to see the power of words to frame, check out this diary on dailykos (it’s political, but it is a must-read from a “perception” standpoint.)

Now, back to Ed. Birgit recently referred to Edward Winkleman as a “cultural icon.” What does that mean, anyway? I consulted my copy of Wikipedia and found what is probably the shortest article in the whole encyclopedia:

A cultural icon is an object or person which is distinctive to, or particularly representative of, a specific culture. An example is the bowler hat, which could be considered an English cultural icon. John Wayne would be an example of an American cultural icon.

By this definition, Ed is a cultural icon of the art blogs; here are a couple of his recent posts that illustrate why:

1. Looking for Fairness in the Age of Art Fairs: Ed asks, has the art world become a merit-free hedge fund?
2. Losing My Assumptions: Ed asks, if art is about communication, is art not intended to communicate not art?

Giving the importance of the concept “cultural icon”, I found the Wikipedia article a bit short. I decided to contribute by adding Ed.

[UPDATE: A Wikipedia editor removed Ed again with the comment "(Edward Winkleman a cultural icon? ....)" I guess our subculture is not sufficiently developed to be recognized as having cultural icons.]

Red gauche on paper

Let’s for a moment accept the proposition that children artists can be considered “real artists.” What an odd type of artist a child makes, if you think about it. What a short career a child has as an artist, always in transition. Who could be worse at writing an artist’s statement than a child?

Please look at the painting above and ask yourself, what does it depict? I have looked at this artwork many times and I always have had more or less the same interpretation of the content. But what was the artist’s intention? Are our views similar? Why don’t I ask the artist? In fact, I am the artist. I painted this sometime during the early 1970′s, but I have no memory of doing so. I have no idea what I intended. I somehow doubt that my interpretation of the picture (which I remember from later in my childhood) is in fact what I was thinking when I painted it.

The painting is framed behind glass, which makes it difficult to photograph. My mother made frames for many of my sister’s and my artworks, without which they would certainly have been lost. Children’s art was the main artwork in our house when I was growing up. If it were not for this early encouragement, I probably would not have become an artist.

Do you frame your children’s art? Do you ever think of the long-term implications of doing so (or not doing so)?

[Update]
I enjoyed reading the different interpretations of this painting by Sunil, Steve, Rex, Leslie, June, and Birgit. I never had the idea of a giant figure on the right before, but Sunil’s comment made me look at the picture in a different way. An area of agreement is that the picture shows a man. I would really like to know what I thought I was doing when I made this.

I’ve been thinking about this picture a lot, about the role of the “artist.” Here is what I think: my mother’s role in this picture was something like that of a photographer. She didn’t “make” the image by hand, but she created the conditions for it to be made. Presumably it was one of many paintings. She selected this one, framed it and saved it. I think she chose this image for a reason, because it is a compelling. She could also have made a compelling photograph of a pattern of clouds in the sky that looked a lot like a man on a dock or a boat, or what have you. I think my role as a three or four year old painter is completely accidental.

Is children’s art art? It seems to me that it can be, but a parent or some adult has an important role to play in making it art — selecting what is good and presenting it as art.

[UPDATE 2]

Earlier we came to an informal consensus that children’s art is not real “art.” I don’t see that as a problem, but it makes me curious: what are children doing when they draw? To try to get some insight, I’ve been drawing together with Nino and Fran.

This is a drawing that Nino (three years old) and I made together. The starting point was to draw circles using a roll of scotch tape as a template. Then we drew larger shapes and colored them in.

What were we doing here? It was a bit like playing a game. Most of all, it was fun. The obvious finally occurred to me: children’s art is art done for fun. If they stopped enjoying what they were doing, they wouldn’t go on with it. I found it fun and also relaxing to do the coloring, seeing how I could fill up the spaces. At an artistic level, I was pleased with the different texture results we got when using a fresh marker (the green for example) as compared to half-dried out markers (pink and blue, for example).

Later I made this drawing together with Fran (four and a half years old). We didn’t use any templates here, simply worked free-hand. The dynamic here was something of a dialogue in coloring: she colored in the areas I established, and I colored in her areas.

Magic marker has not been my drawing medium for at least twenty five years. It took me some time to enjoy working with them, but now I am hooked on them, just as I was as a kid!

Do you draw with your kids? Do you ever draw like a kid — as in, just for fun? What are the limitations of this approach? Is a certain amount of “pain” necessary to create real “art”?

UPDATE, 12 January

Sunil pointed out that young children have an ability called ‘perceptual closure’ that allows them to understand drawings like these. I was surprised that my kids didn’t recognize these as faces. Do yours?

We seem not to have as much of a “consensus” as I thought. David said “I totally consider children’s art to be real art.” Leslie and Colin agreed,” but Arthur remained skeptical (which is why we love him so much).

What about “no pain, no art?” Pain does not seem to be a requirement for art, but fun seems to be a useful ingredient — at least this seems to be the consensus from the comments so far . . .

KARL: What is this?

FRAN: A snake.

KARL: What kind of snake?

FRAN: A normal snake.

KARL: Is it art?

FRAN: No.

KARL: What is art?

FRAN: Nothing, I don’t know.

KARL: What is this?

FRAN: Fireworks.

KARL: Is this art?

FRAN: [Shakes her head, meaning no.]

KARL: Is this art?

FRAN: No.

KARL: How old is the person that made it?

FRAN: Five years old.

KARL: Did a kid make this?

FRAN: No, a big person made that.

KARL: Is it art?

FRAN: Yes.

KARL: Is this art?

FRAN: No, that is not beautiful. My little brother Nino made that.

KARL: Did you make this?

FRAN: I can’t make that. A big kid made that.

KARL: Is it art?

FRAN: Yes.

KARL: What about this?

FRAN: I find that beautiful. It is a bit mixed together.

KARL: Who made it?

FRAN: A little kid, 25, no, 50, no, 15 years old.

KARL: Is it art?

FRAN: Well yes, um, no. Can I use the computer now?

Another lesson I have learned already is to do the tasks as early in the day as possible. It is easy to procrastinate, and then at some point it becomes too late to do anything.

Another one of my resolutions is to write a bit of fiction each day. To keep it simple, I’m starting with a children’s story. This is a lot of fun.

I think that good planning will help. It was a lucky accident that I had some clay here at my grandmother’s house where I am spending the holidays, otherwise I would not have been able to the sculpture work (or rather, “exercise”) yesterday. I have painting materials here that let me paint daily as well. But what about the future?
It is clear to me that I need to make some sort of traveling kit to carry my essential art materials with me wherever I go.

For ordinary days, I will need to make sure that I keep everything organized so that the “energy barrier” for starting with each type of work remains as low as possible.

I guess I should add that another one of my New Year’s resolutions is to write a blog post every single day.

I did the same walk around the harbor that I do every day when I am in Wilhelmshaven. But today I felt exhausted afterwards, and it wasn’t from the physical weight of the camera. I felt tired because I used my out-of-shape “photographic vision,” a special way of looking at the world through a camera. It took about half an hour of walking and shooting to get into “photographic vision,” and it now persists for some time after I put down the camera. “Photographic vision” lets me take photographs without using a camera, in a sense. I assume all the photographers have this; probably the professionals live with it all the time. For an amateur like me, it yields a sort of “mental muscle ache,” something like what you feel when you first start exercising muscles that you didn’t realize you had. All the more reason for the daily workout!