Teaser
Does writing the theory of relativity from memory make one a math genius?
Let us distinguish between outstanding memory capabilities and phenomenon of art, as we do between crafting the rook and playing chess…
…”Stephen Wiltshire, ma main man”
Do the innate absolute criteria of fine art judge Stephen Wiltshire’s art, or is it only the jealousy of one private subjective ego?
Stephen Wiltshire became famous after appearing in some TV show where he presented his remarkable photographic memory abilities. First, I would like to honestly state, that I am truly empathic and happy for his success and have nothing in person against him. He really seems like a cute guy. What I am more concerned about is the definition of art in regards to Stepen Wiltshire’s abilities. I’ll break this down to art’s three basic components, as I perceive them.
The three aspects of fine art
Formation
Stephen Wiltshire’s art scales from basic sketching lessons to advanced architectural drawings at the most. Some of his works are no more than elementary car design sketches or urban views. No innovation of technique and no originality in the perception of reality and it’s translation to art. Just plain sketching you might see scattered abundantly around the internet.
Have you ever seen an architect or a car designer selling their sketches as works of art for prices ranging up to 13,000 pounds? I suppose not.
Content
Plain urban views or different motive transportations. No depths of issues, no message, no meaning, no purpose; just some “pretty things” to gaze at.
Awareness
Having evaluated the first two ingredients of fine art and concluded that they sum up to nothing in Stephen Wiltshire’s case, we are left with the most important one of all.
How does an artist approach a work of art? Well, I assume that there are numerous subtle nuances which define each and every artist of the past, present or future, but the basic grid is the same: you approach art with deep awareness.
What is the motive, the purpose, the essence, the meaning? What is it that which you want to say and what atmosphere will help you convey that message? How will you create that atmosphere and how will the compositional architecture, color scheme, shape formations, light, textures and perspectives influence the atmosphere you are trying to create?
The deeper the awareness the deeper the message will be and the more profound the essence is. So also, the more subtle the philosophy and the more complex the theoretical aspects behind the art work, that much more spiritual awareness and conscious self-awareness must be respectively present in order to realize that work of art.
Let’s see…
On the other hand, when all you want is to copy something from one place to another – with no emphasis on the technique and style, with no intent of purposeful content, with no awareness to the derivative criteria of creation – all you need is the hand-eye coordination awareness, hence the basic instinctual human consciousness.
So far as the context of art is concerned, there should be absolutely no meaning to whether the copying is from another picture using a translucent paper or directly from nature, or as in Stephen Wiltshire’s case using the memory as the copying source. I mean, does writing the theory of relativity from memory make you a math genius?
…”So, you…you’re the Rain Man?”
Being the artist an autistic-savant automatically boosted the value of his art, simply because there has never been in the recorded history of art another one like him. People might have said to themselves: “Well, there is nothing unique about his art, in neither venue, but hey, he’s autistic and he remembers stuff… Oh hey, and it’s just like that guy in that movie… I mean, wow!”
Well-greased marketing also helped to obscure from the art establishment and the general public the fact that actually, so far as art and artistic standards are concerned, there is nothing here to make so much fuss about. Had any other non-autistic artist presented such art to any respected gallery or museum in the world, I think that he would have gotten the cold shoulder.
Plainly saying, in this day and age art is mostly a gimmick, which without the appropriate marketing will not see the light of day, not to mention fortune and fame.
findigart.com
Created by findigart On 07/30/09 At 03:17 PM
Kentucky born and bred artist Brad Everett Kirkman is what some people might call an “outsider artist.” He isn’t trained, but some might say he’s anointed. Looking at his work, you can clearly see that he’s not only driven by art, but also a message. He works full-time for a precision manufacturing company, but art is his true calling and message. Incidentally, we had this chat long ago and begin by talking about his old website which has since changed to 
One of the main areas for art galleries and activity in Dubai is the Al Quoz Industrial Zone. As the name suggests the area is grimy, dusty and mechanical, inhabited by warehouses, factories, storage depots and wholesale outlets. When rents were skyrocketing elsewhere in Dubai this area was still relatively cheap and the large and empty premises were ideal for conversion to gallery spaces so over the past five years or so a lot of galleries have set up here. 
This is the background to the current exhibition at Total Arts gallery that has to rate among the most memorable I have seen in Dubai during my two years here. Total Arts was founded by architect Darius Zandi and artist Shaqayeq Arabi and was the first gallery to set up in Al Quoz way back in 1996. After the fire Zandi and Arabi visited the burnt out warehouse and were so affected by what they saw they began a long process of transporting things from the site back to the gallery. 
The result is Scraps, an installation composed entirely of materials, artefacts and incidental objects found at the site with site photos projected against two of the gallery walls. The scale of the installed pieces varies from huge warped sheets of corrugated metal suspended from ceilings and used to create artificial walls, to small and fragile fragments of paper or cloth. 
Some pieces stand on plinths like highly original sculptures, most amazingly a collection of hundreds of pairs of metal scissors all melded together by the heat of the fire. A partially collapsed bicycle stands precariously upright surrounded by different piles of objects fused in plastic, metal and wood. There are melted tins, jars, knives, safety pins, toothbrushes, bicycle pumps, a cash register and many other everyday objects rendered almost unrecognisable by the furnace they emerged from. 
Many of the smaller finds have been transformed by the artists into installations in their own right. One wall is covered with blackened food trays set with piles of melted forks and spoons and a metal sheet is covered with knife blades. A series of boxes contain a curious mix of objects, scraps of documents, textiles and electrical wires.
The exhibition is a unique and moving memorial to those who died. It is a wondrous and disturbing sensory experience crystallised by a soundtrack of muffled explosions and the all pervading odour of burnt metal, wood and plastic. It manages to address several different levels and aspects of its own particular local context as well as referencing wider points of aesthetics and art history – a dual achievement still very rare in exhibitions here. 
In 1989, a close friend and extraordinary artist, Alex Fournier, told me to take in a show at the IBM Gallery of Art and Science in Manhattan. “Joaquín Sorolla y Bastida is an incredible painter,” Alex told me. I happened to be in NYC shortly thereafter, a rainy cold winter mid-week day, and recalled my friend’s suggestion. I don’t remember what I thought before I entered the Gallery, but the paintings I saw that day changed my life. I was literally high on color, light, the mastery of a great master. I bought every book that I could get my hands on and that summer fortuitously went to Spain on a planned family vacation to seek out Sorolla’s work in person. As luck would have it, Sorolla’s home in Madrid is a museum of his work. He also painted murals in the Spanish Institute in NYC. However, it was in Spain that I could have an inkling of the light under which Sorolla painted to create his impressionistic “luministic” (as Henri Rochefort described the paintings) masterpieces. And throughout the experiences I had that year, the name Anders Zorn kept popping up. Sorolla and Zorn were friends (and friendly with John Singer Sargent, as well) as well as colleagues who sought to capture their worlds in Spain and in Sweden, respectively, using light, color and the impressions that they garnered from their environments.
