Unleash your creative superpowers!
I realized the other day, that most of the artists I admire seem to have one thing in common. They are all DISRUPTERS: Basquiat, Picasso, DuChamp. They turn something familiar into something radically whacked.
If I had musical skills, I’d spend most of my time doing what this musician so cleverly does: With one simple and profound tweak, he upends our experience and expectation. Listen to how he transforms Dave Brubeck’s classic “Take 5.”
My husband and I couldn’t be more different. He’s a “be early to everything” dude, and if my local art store were giving away sable brushes and Belgian truffles, I would struggle to get there on time. He relaxes watching thought-provoking documentaries, I need cutting-edge comedy. One look at his office — compared to my “junk room” piles — gives a visual representation of the fundamental difference. He finds disorder to be chaotic, I find chaos fascinating. I was thinking about that when he came home from his walk with some new photos to show me.
The ones he shot for himself, show nature in all its beauty, The ones he shot to curry favor with me, are all abstracts, urban decay — testimony to the chaos that, to my mind, creates great beauty around us. He showed me this parking lot piece (above) and said, “Look, on the upper right — “It’s an alien sniffing a volcano.” Once he pointed it out, I guess I saw it, but I was struck with the question, “why does it always have to look like something?”
I guess for him, it’s a way to impose, if not order, at least a point of reference. When he shoots these photos for me, he is always mindful of color, light, shade, shape, and composition. Once he has those things nailed, he takes the shot, but he is still (I guess) left with a need to define it.
Well, naturally I had to research this need to identify “the familiar” in abstract art — and the explanation could not be more obvious. Our brains are wired to “categorize information, find patterns, and reduce the complex into understandable, comfortable concepts.”
I’m fairly sure my brain doesn’t work that way. The colors and shapes hit me on a level far below (or above) the level needing analysis. It just moves me. It never occurs to me that it has to be something. It already is something. Something profound, and beautiful, and chaotic. He may think that makes me crazy, but I’m not the one seeing Aliens sniffing Volcanoes.
I ask the question, because…. Most people choose a restaurant based on a preference for delicious, creative dishes, a cozy ambiance, great service, and a friendly vibe. But my needs are a little less foundational, and a bit more, well, whacked.
I cannot dine out at a restaurant with a LAME LOGO. I just can’t. Josh once chose a popular place in Sherman Oaks called “Café Bizou” for lunch one day, and I just couldn’t buy in. They displayed their establishment’s logo (above) for years on the wall outside and of course all over their menus. The graphic is so in-your-face and so literal (Bizou meaning “kiss” — represented by pressed red lips and flanked by a typeface I’d just call “dullard”) that I felt agitated and hurt. Josh ate there by himself that day.
God, I’m sounding crazy. Maybe a little obsessed. Okay, maybe not a little. But if you hang with any artists, you know that comes with the territory. Everything is visual, and we can even become indignant, insulted, or disappointed — if a graphic, particularly a logo, seems stupid.
By the way, the valley’s Cafe Bizou recently closed its doors. And a new Cafe Bizou opened in Agoura Hills — with a brand new logo at its door.
P.S. —I just asked Josh to fetch some chocolate chips (for my oatmeal) while he’s at the market. He said no, he couldn’t — and mumbled something about the uninspiring VONS sign.
