The art of being an artist

In a village called Alex in the French Alps there is a beautifully restored chateau which houses the Fondation pour l'Art Contemporain. It was set up by Claudine and Jean-Marc Saloman of skis and ski-ware fame. The Foundation itself owns various works, but the exhibition within the chateau changes every six months and features cutting-edge works brought in from all over the world including, this time, one by Tracey Emmin. In the grounds are works on permanent display, including a sculpture by Anthony Gormley. A new work by Jaume Plensa has recently been added. It is like a telephone box built out of beautifully made transparent glass bricks with a metal door in one side, but without the phone. The artist's description is as follows: "[The sculpture] is not something material, but emotional. It does not relate to volume or space, but time. Each work suggests an exchange, which the spectator has to complete." The commentary in the programme says: "The sculptures of Jaume Plensa are metaphors of the body. As an isolation chamber, this cabin in glass follows the conducting wire of the artist's obsessions: absence, desire, impossibility, silence. It welcomes the visitor for a voyage in colour in which he will meet himself.". Just what I thought. Actually, my predominant thought was "I wonder where he gets his glass bricks from?". The descriptions of virtually all of the pieces were similarly silly and pretentious, but such explanations are relied on heavily to justify their existence because the works in themselves conveyed little or no emotion or message and often displayed little technical skill. Not that I consider representational art to be somehow superior to abstract art.  After all, many things in nature which we consider to be beautiful are ‘abstract' patterns - for example a sunset.  Or if you look from a distance at a forest on the side of a mountain just when Autumn has come, then you will see not the leaves or even the trees themselves, but shades of yellows and green, red and brown merging into one another in a random pattern. We sigh and say that it is beautiful.   If you look at the reflection of the sky in the ripples on a lake, then you will see what were the blues and whites of the sky reflected back at you through a distorting mirror. And we contemplate its beauty. And so it should not be a problem for us to accept that colours and shapes on canvas or formed into a sculpture which represent nothing but the artist's vision of beauty can touch us just as much. The abstract works of a local artist, Hervé Visery *, in Annecy very much caught my attention. He makes no attempt to give high-flown descriptions of his paintings. He says simply that he puts himself and his emotions into his work. Either your emotions are aroused when you see it or they are not. There is no explanation which can be given. * to see two of his works click here

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