You can ask the artist: Why did you make this? What is it about? What are you trying to say?
But try asking yourself: Why are you here? Don’t you have better things to do? What do you think (see, feel, perceive)? What do you get from this experience?
Art is not merely a form of communication. It is not a universal language for crossing international borders (we call that English).
Art is demanding. If you want something from art (it is, after all, a gift) you have to give something yourself.
Art requires your time and attention: you choose to spend an hour at a performance or walking through a gallery instead of talking on the phone or hanging out with friends or tidying up the house.
Art is an encounter that has the potential to change you. Sensations may trigger memories or provoke new feelings; they may return later to alter the way you are perceiving familiar settings and activities.
Contemporary art is not meant to make you feel good or comfortable, to help you relax. It is not safe.
Contemporary art requires an intellectual commitment, thinking – not just with the mind which stores and organizes information, but with the senses, the body, emotions, intuition. And learning to trust yourself.
Yes, it may help if you have a university degree, have studied art history, have a cosmopolitan worldview.
But contemporary art calls you to plug into a situation, to open your senses, to actively let yourself be moved… to the depths of memory, to uncover knowledge.
Learning to be open to art is a long process, a skill that must be continually trained.
I speak from experience, as one who has made a practice of experiencing art. Perhaps that is why I’ve been asked to contribute to the ongoing discussion around contemporary art in Ukraine, its very existence or lack thereof.
And also because I am not your average Ukrainian viewer (I was born and raised in the USA).
Frankly, I’m tired of hearing that there is no contemporary art in Ukraine. That there is no context, no educated, intelligent audience that can value the ideas in an artwork over its monetary value. I can’t really refute such statements, but I also refuse to agree.
I feel there is something present in Ukraine – call it spirituality, a view of life as a complex, mysterious totality – that is less pervasive in the USA.
Contemporary art is easy to find in the U.S. It is smart, witty, ironic, brutally self-aware, worldly, cosmopolitan, cynical. It often reflects on, or deconstructs, our post-postmodern situation. Yet this critical function of art is also a detachment from its living source.
Ukrainian artists may not always exhibit the latest techniques and technologies, but I have observed an impressive quality of focused attention in local performers, artists, students and academics. Even the manic desire of collectors-oligarchs for the most expensive and spectacular art acquisitions reflects a similar passion.
This intensity reverberates with a vitality that continually pulls me down to earth, into the dirty, unfinished reality whose uncertainty and imperfections we all seem to want to avoid.
Here, in Kyiv, one comes in contact with real life perhaps more often than desired, which is what attracted me in the first place. But I get the sense that this is precisely what many Ukrainians wish to escape.
I can only guess at what the Ukrainian audience experiences when it confronts contemporary art here: something at once so distant and so close that it causes feelings of disorientation. The form so unfamiliar and incomprehensible that it’s not even exotic, while the energy is not so unusual as to arouse interest.
This blog will be an attempt to share some ideas that arise from my encounters with art in Ukraine (both viewing and creating). All I can offer is reflections and questions. Feel free to respond, elaborate, argue. Let’s keep talking. More importantly, let’s keep thinking.