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Artist as Shaman

Politics and religon are dead; the time has come for science and spirituality. -- Sri Jawaharlal Nehru [Nehru] "Nothing new here." -- fellow artist Asa Kontio when looking at one of new works which i considered a major breakthrough. Through a Ritual, Darkly: Translating Art into Ritual Terms. The independent film director Fred G. Sullivance -- best known for his production of the film "Cold River" (based on the novel by ) and the biographical art film "The Beer Drinker's Guide to Physical Fitness and Filmmaking" (aka "Sullivan's Carnival") -- posed the question that haunts all artists: What motivates us as adults to pick up a brush and create art? He reminds us that as children it seems absolutely natural to do so. Indeed, we are always guided by Picasso's statement that "I have spent my entire life trying to remember what it is like to be a child". That picking up of the brush probably comes the closest to "the calling" that creates the shamnan as anything that we can point to. This paper explores some of the formal aspects of ritual (as gleaned by anthropologists, hisorians, and pschologists) and uses the light of that way of understanding to glean new perspectives on art, and in particular the role of the artist as shaman. Art literature is rife with the model of the artist as shaman/gleaner/etc, of the museum as "sacred space", and other such bridges from the world of ritual to the world of art. Not unsurprisingly, anthropologists use the terms "ritual", "sacred space", and "shaman" in a very specific and technical way. This paper presents some of my on-going research into the nature of art and what we do as artist; yes, i am guilty of the greatest of art crimes: I am an art theorist. In approaching the formal study of ritual i came with that same self-assuredness and nievite that is our characteristic as children; of course i can dance, of course i can sing, of course i can paint, of course i know what ritual is -- again recalling Picasso: If you ask a child if they can sing or dance they, will say "Of course"; it is only as adults that we say such things as "No, I can't sing. No, I can't dance". And naturally, i approached blank and vast canvas of riual studies with that bravado and arrogance that we must when confronted with anything larger than the "student-sized" canvas or any art materials more costly than "academic-grade" paints, brushes, etc. Regardless, we should try to have respect for those areas of knowledge which confront, confound, and siren-like entice us. That we all (in that most hidden recesses of ourselves) cringe before anything that is wider than our grasp is part and parcel with what we do. If i stood and ackowledged the secret terror of self doubt in front of a canvas 7' tall (hung at a height so that its top is at the very reach of arm) and 27' wide -- then, i would NEVER be able to pick up the brush; more importantly to make the first mark. As David Newman reminds: That we as artists should think that our works can change the world is of course absurd; and yet, it is essential to the enterprise. Let us pick up our brushes (whether they be boarshair, modeling clay, water paints, corregated cardboard, or battleship linoleum - and begin. Formal Aspects of Ritual ********* (insert van gennep & turner stuff here) *********** An important distinction to make is between tribal history and fictional stories. There is a tendency in the Western tradition to either take stories as hypocryhpical and imaginative retelling of real events, as moral tales, or as factual beliefs. Almost undoubtedly all human narrative is a mix of these. That some of these stories are intended as just that -- A story of Fiction -- is given clearly by the late, great ethnographer of Native American narratives, John Bierhorst: But in the stories themselves a different world came to life. "There was a bark lounge," the storyteller would begin, and at once the listeners would be taken back to the days when their ancestors had lived in longhouses framed with arched saplings covered wiuth elm bark, with a bark-flap door at either end. ... Yet despite obvious differences [between the lifestyles in the 1800's and the time the story was from], Iroquois storytelling sessions in the 1880's had much in common with those of the long-gone past. Professional storytellers still went from house to house and ecxpected to be paid withb small gifts of food, tobacco, or other items. [Bierhorst, 1987, P. x] And indded it is difficult to sometimes distinguish between stories of fiction and those of healing -- as it would be for other tribes to understand our stories; eg, the Lord's Prayer vs. Fabels and other cautionary tales. For example, Susanne K. Langer relates: While religion grows from the blind worship of Life and magic "aversion" of Death to a definite toem-cult or other sacrementalism, another sort of "life-symbol" develops in its own way, starting also in quite un-intensional processes, and culminating in permanent, significant forms. This medium is myth. Although we generally associate myth with religion, it can not really be traced, like ritual, to anything like a "religious feeling," either of dread, mystic veneration, or even festal excitement. Ritual begins in motor attitudes, which however personal, are at once externalised and so made public. Myth begins in fantasy, which may remain tacit for a long time; for the primary form of fantasy is the enitrely subjective and private phenomenon of *dream*. ... There is another tale [of Papauns of Melanesia] which begins: "One day an egg, a snake, a centipede, an ant, and a piece of dung set out on a head-hunting expedition..." ... No sane human being, however simple, could really "suppose" such events to occur; and clearly, in enjoying this sort of story, nobody is trying to "suppose" anything. To imagine the assorted hunted-party really on its way through the jungle is perhaps just as impossible for a Papuan as for us. The only explanation of such stories is, that nobody cares whether their *dramatis personae* act in character or not. The act is not really proper to its agent, but to *someone its agent represents*; and even the action in the story may merely *represent* the deeds of such a symbolised personality. [Langer, Pp. 171-173] Indeed, compare this to the story of the wolf eating grandmother whole, only later being split open filled with stones and then ultimately drowned - in keeping with the moral dimensions of the social requirements of "the happy ending", Training of the Artist What IS Art? What is the artist? We are continually reminded that the artist as artist per se is a relatively new phenomenon; perhaps going back little more than 200 years. We naturally must consider the art as crafter as well as creator. Prior to currenbt times, apprentices would have been used to create majors parts of a work of art -- especially the more extensive works. In resolving these issues, we are naturally led to the realm of so-called primitive art. ****** Robert Plant Armstrong quote & Primitvie art quot here ******* Indeed, as Umberto Ecco reminds us: Context is King. As Cynthia Freeland puts it in "But is it art?" For example, my direct experience of African *nkissi nkondi* fetish statues from Loango, in the Kongo region, which are bristling with nails, is that they look quite fierce -- like the horror-movie Pinhead from the "Hellraiser" series. The initial perception is modified when I learn 'external facts' [ie, facts outside of the art object itself - but, internal to the culture within which the work was produced]: That nails were driven in over time by people to register agreements or seal dispute resolutions. The particpants were asking for support for their agreement (with an expectation of punishment if it is violated). Such fetish objects were considered so powerful they were sometimes kept outside of the village. ... [The original] users would find it very odd for a small group of them to be exhibited together in the African Art section of a museum. [Freeland, Pp. 64-66] That we as outsiders have no more idea as to what the *meaning* of a work of art is a chasm of ignorance that can not be overcome without direct knowledge of the social, environmental and cultural markers of the sociey withion which it was produced is clear; or as the philospher Douglas Adams often put it "[we] no more understand this than a tea leaf knows the history of the East India Company". None-the-less, we must proceed. And this lack of "understanding" does not limit us much as it might seem. For example, we are all aware of the impact on Modern European art the import of "primitive" works had the impressionists and all later artists. ****** picasso & dogan mask quote here ***** The key difference here is this: For the shaman the object (as ritual object even when produced in an artistic manner -- see below) *must* be known thoroughly to them to be used properly. For the artist, simply knowing that the obect (as art object) *has* ritual meaning is sufficient to proke new areas of creativity, understanding, and art works extending and reflecting the original work -- even if the meaning, context, and intent are distorted by the improper and insuffient mirror/lens of ignorance. Another key element is that the idea (especially for the modern artist) is often as important as the art object the idea might lead to. For example, the power of words: To simply write on a piece of paper words like "loyalty", "freedom", "consumerism", "war" and tack them up on the gallery wall would be sufficient to create art (and hence the art experience). This kind of a-cultural art can clearly be seen in the sand paintings of the Navajo Indians. Even if we do not understand one whit of the whatness of the ritual, we can gleam from it formal aspects of the work (line, colour, volume, etc) -- because we have been trained in the language of art; in exactly (or at least analously) the samne way as the shaman has been trained in the formal structures of the "art" [ie, technique/craft] of ritual. Thus, the shaman might look at our "notes on the wall" and speak to another shaman about the "evocative", "spiritual", and "healing" aspects of our notes; eg, the font and stroke-work of the words "war" and "peace" may well be radically different. In the same way we might talk about the sand painting as having a "Kupka architectural feel as opposed to a Matisse use of curved line", or "a Stella/Noland use of geometry and colour as opposed to a very Frankenthaller use of colour, pallet, and composition". As Susan Training of the Artist & Shaman Artistic Materials and "the Work" and its Interpretaion. If, we may use current artisan practices in existant tribes as a guide to the ancient practices. Then, it is likely that (other than decorative art; eg, pottery, clothing, etc.) art was created along guidelines laid down by either the tribe's shaman and/or a master artist skilled in the symbols, techniques, and materials at hand. As we have seen the objects and especially the places involved are closely linked to the purposes that these art objects were put to. One of the oldest existant examples of these concepts is of course the Lascaux Caves in modern-day, southern France. We as artists naturally study these as part of the cannon of art history. However, from an historical point of view, researchers are much less prone to the imaginative leaps of *interpretation* that we allow ourselves. For instasnce, the British historian John Morris Roberts has this to say on the subject of the caves: [The work consists] of three main bodies of materials: Small figures of stone, bone or occasionally, clay (usualy female), decorated objects (often tools and weapons) and the painted walls and roofs of caves. In these caves (and in the decoration of | objects) there is an over-whelming preponderance of animal themes. The meaning of these designs, above all in the elaborate sequences of the cave paintings, has intrigued scolars. Obviously, many of the beasts so carefully observed were central to a hunting economy. At least in the French caves, too, it now seems highly probable that a conscious order exists in the sequences in which they are shown. But to further in the argument is still very hard. Clearly, art in Upper Paleolithic times has to carry much of the burden later carried by writing, but what its messages meann is still obscure. It seems likely that the poaintings were connected with religious or magical practice: African rock painting has been convincingly shown to be linked to magic and shamanism and the selection of such remote and difficult corners of caves as those in which the European have been traced is by itself strongly suggestive that some special rite was carried out when they were painted or gazed upon. [ROBERTS, Pp. 19-20] Indeed modern shamanistic practice demonstrates that almost all objects are embued aministically with special powers, meaning, spirituality, and presence. That the interpretation of the world around us requires a deep knowledge of hidden symbols and meanings, as well as a vast knowledge of matters spiritual, sacred, profane, and secular/tribal/cultural. In much the same, we as artists require these same ways of seeing -- although probably not to anywhere such a deep extent. For the artist, a space of three years is a vast expanse of time; eg, with Krasner's encouragement this was the time it took for Pollock to perfect his calligraphic control over the drip technique. [Choay, Pp. 293-294] Another problem involved in translating the role of the artist into the role as shaman is that of the mirror that we use. For example, the shaman's exact thinking and practices are unlikely to be well known or understood outside of their culture. I would say that the shaman's practice is as filled trepidation, fear (of failure), and uncertainty as that of any artist. Of course in the same way that we "put on a good show" for outsiders (the art loving public, critics, and reporters), it is likely that the shaman "enters in somewhat subdued openess" to the outsiders; eg, anthropologists, missionaries, and even linguists. This is only natural given the history of indiginous people at the hands of westerners. Also, there is also the problem of the "academic approach" in general. With the rise of political correctness, media awareness, and seemingly limitless litiginous activity this is not totally un-expected. For example, consider the historian's view of the Lascoux Caves and compare this with the late, great Hellen Gardner's discussion of those and those at Lot, France (aka Peche-Merle): The naturalistic pictures of animals are often accompanied by geometric signs, some of which seem to represent man-made structures, or "tectiforms", while others consist of checkers, or other arrangements of lines. Several observers have seen a primitive form of writing in these representations of non-living things, but more likely they, too, had only magical signicance. The ones that look like traps or snares, for example, may have been drawn to ensure success in hunting with these devices. ... The hunter-artisty made frequent and skillful use of the naturally irregular surfaces ion the walls, of their projections, recessions, fissures, and ridges to help give the illusion of real presence to his [sic] forms. A swelling outward of the wall could be used within the outline of a charging bison to suggest the bulging volume of the beast's body. [Gardner, Pp.16-17] Taking into account that this is from before the great wave of democratisation of universities in the United States beginng in the 1970's, art historians still step out on a limb when speculating about origins, interpretation, and of course the ever-present spectre of "intent". Note that out of necessity the art historian must necessarily speculate as to what the artifact means. Thus, while the traditional historian *must* be an historian, and play by the rules of their way of being, the art historian must at least try to entertain even vaguely tennable ideas. Unfortunately for many, the idea of a nice, neat explanation of all things is too appealing to easily overturn; tttah. Thus, for example objects that do not seem to "fit" with others in a find are often put by themselves as if the got there by accident. I well remember the presentation of the kouros as a male symbol; an interpretation that was abandonded when many more were found including clearly female ones. Even such semi-sacred artifacts as "The Venus of Willendorf" has been renamed "The Woman of Willendorf". I once remarked that for all we know it was the "Barbie" of its time. The resulting attacks ranged from defence of feminism, evocation of Mother Earth sensibilities, as well as the tradional funnery, fertility, marriage gifts, shamanistic totem (used by a *male* shaman), etc. Thus, while the shaman and their culture remain isolated from the impact of civilisation as we know it and all of the well-meaning interpretations, extrapolations, and explanations -- the modern artist must dodge not only bill collectors, but a veritable volly of the bullets from political correctness advocates, self-appointed bastions of citizens for public and moral decency, as well as evaporating public funds in a time (the post-9/11 era) that sorely needs both the social criticism as well as the healing energies of the modern artist. But, alas; i digress. The Role of the Artist in Society One the shaman's most important roles in their society is that of illiminator; of mysteries, of events, of rites of passage, etc. This point of view allows us to illuminate the artistic aspects of the work, its display and continuity in the community. As the American Ash Can School artist Luks once remarked, "I can make a painting out of cooking grease and cut gut" -- thus emphasising the conservator's task. While the shaman is responsible (often) for fulfilling all three roles (intercessor/redeemer, diviner/medium, healer), the artist more often than not is merely the seer/creator of the views from the "other world". Thus, in the community at large, the artist creates the work and the art historian, critic, newspaper reviewer, (and to a certain extent, the currator) provide the illumination of the work and (not inconsequentially) the artist. Thus, the role of the diviner (of meaning) anmd medium (of context) is the reponsibility of the historian, critic, reviewer, etc. The shaman goes into the other world to understand the problem at hand, and with the aid of spirits and other worldly guides and a deep knowledge of symbols, they are able to effect a proper change. That we as artists van not always see ourselves in the terms of where our work fits into the existant art world -- especially the modern -- is a consequence of being "too close" to the problem. That is, we are almost in a state of trance. For example, Jackson Pollock could only poorly express the whatness of his new techniques and more so the works themselves. Thus, it was left for Lee Krasner (his wife) and Clemet Greenberg (the critic) to provide the bridge to Pollock's work and divine their inner meaning. Note that in the role of interpreter, Krasner was NOT acting as artist the creator, but as artist the student of art history, the critical process; and Greenberg in much the same way. Note, that only when we step outside our role as artist, do we even begin to fully appreciate what we contribute to society. And while the "judgement" of the material world is often quite harsh, we gon on picking up the brush and returning to the liminal state of pure creativity. To say that Van Gogh obly sold two paintings in his life time or to take as read the purely sexual interpretation of O'Keef's works is to speak a lie to their importance to the world (the universe) at large. Finally, we cast the various roles of the various actors in the drama. The museum/gallery director as presenteur of the works allowing the artist (thru their works) to speak to not just the here-and-now community but the community of the world, indeed the universe. The docent and the guard as protectors of the relics (art works) in the sacred (public) space (the museum/gallery). The historian and professional critic as the guides to the other world created by artist. Next the role of the news reporter and publisher to present and produce the enduring elements of the show. And finally, the viewer - the measure of the health of the community; ie, the whoness for which the artistic cosmogeny exists. Motivation, Intent, and Purpose. As artists we create from a request (internally and personally motivated, externally motivated by events, or by commission) a work of art in a given style and in a given medium. Like the caves and the shamanitic motivation for them, our works are subject to use, interpretation, maintenance, and ultimately viewing. Howver, while shaman's purpose (intent) must necessarily be tied to their role as shaman (as intercessor/redeemer, diviner/medium, or healer), we are rarely bound by any graspible foundation. As such the task of interpreting the shamanistic works (by anthropologists, historians, psychologists) is more directly grounded in reality (even if that reality is other worldly) than is the things that we do. I think that this clearly the case with the case of anti-art and non-art works that we do. Whereas the works of the shaman are tied to purpose and intent, non-art works such as autonomous art, surreal and dadaist works have none of that; or very little. This distinction is made clear by works that we do where we at least try take on the mantle of the shaman; eg, works by Joseph Beuys & Robert Rauchenberg. Indeed, at one extreme is that of purposeless art; eg, Margaret McDowel's "Useless Tools", Marcele Duchamp's "Fountain", etc. Whereas even when we create a work intended as anti-art, non-art, or puposeless art, we (by the psuedo-mystical powers assigned to us by non-artists) create art de facto. That is, while the shaman is not allowed by their community to creat meaningless and/or purposeless rituals, we are not allowed to create non-art, etc. Naturally, I preclude (either by shaman or artist) the creation of play works. After all, the artist/shaman is only human and we are never far from the child within us or our architypical behaviour as "homo ludens" (playing man). When we attempt to understand the "need" for art (and hence the background themes of intent, motivation, and purpose), then we must take the view of diviner/medium. In rites of passage, the goal is to "handle" the event; eg, birth, puberty, marriage, etc. Thus, the shaman and the associated ritual allow the norms of society to be temporarily disrupted and then re-integrated. In a similar way, the art work connect the body of the community, its history, and its traditions to a greater reality. I would go so far as to say that the artist of the time must reflect the hope, dreams, harsher realites, and often overlooked simple beauties of world around us. Well known examples include the following. Gustaff Eifel's tower expresses the hope that the age of iron and steel might give way to a new age, reaching symbolically upward towards a higher calling than just pure capitalistic mercantilism, colonialism, and ceaseless imperialistic domination. The dreamlike worlds created by Yves Tanguy remind us that there is always more to life than that which we see around us. These simple life scapes lift us out of the mundane world and "make our spirits soar". Guernica. Alexander Calder's "circus" reminds us of simple joys and innocence of childhood -- which is a lesson oft forgotten in all times. How well these goals are achieved is of course contained in the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic dictim: "There is no art that can not be mastered; but, the is no one that is treuly the master of any art". Again, we pick up the brush and make our way through the fog; darkly, but illuminated from within and without. Artisan Practice - "Craft" When i so cavillierly dismissed "decorative" works in the discussion above, i naturally acted in the arrogant manner of "An Artist". In cultural and personal terms, when a person cooses to surround themselves with artifacts, they inevitably do so with an esthetic sense of choice. Whether the purpose of such choices or placements has more than "mere" decorative functionality, is of course the product of individual and the context of their personality, family, tribe/society, and culture. Regardless, craft (and we should remember the words of Jane Turner in the introduction to the Dictionary of Art: "We have made no distinction between craft and art" -- and indeed, neither should we; despite the fact that we stull do) is essential to the creation of art. That we as artists still feel the need to big note ourselves and elevate ourselves above "the materialists", is part and parcel of the artist as "Artist". Herein, is another clear distinction between the shaman and the artist. The shaman is an integral part of their society, the artist often the shunned outsider of mainstream society -- unless of course if they become collectible or dead. Oddly enough, the artist's merit is most commonly measured by their technical abilities in the craft of art and of couse in the style of their art. Thus, while the shaman is often the driver of social purpose and action (in matters in their purvey), the artist is often given no choice in the matter of: Produce what sells or else, get a day job. Of course for the shaman there can be no greater joy than when their efforts prove successful and the health of the community is restored. We as artists feel no greater joy (other than the almost ecstatic joy during the creation of certain works), than when something that we create purely for ourselves resonates somehow in non-artists. A well known story of Arshile Gorky bears repeating here. He had gotten a show in a gallery for some of his (now well-known) very abstract works. And he asked a friend if the work was up yet. When informed that none of them were up, he got very angry and asked what was the matter with the gallery owner? His friend assured him that it had nothing to do with the style; the gallery owner could not go into the room long enoug to begin hanging them. Gorky remarked, "[oh...] He must be very sensitive" and mioved the works to another gallery. [Moguch] Conclusions Biblio Bierhorst, John. (). The Mythology of Mexico and Central America. ---------- (1987). The Naked Bear: Folktales of the Iroquois. The William Morrow Company. New York. --------- (). The Sacred Path: Spells, Prayers, and Power Songs of the American Indians. Choay, Francoise. (nd). "Jackson Pollock" in Dictionary of Modern Painting. French Academic Press (trade reprints; nd). London. Clarke, Arthur C. (1980). The Fountains of Paradise. Ballentine Boooks. New York. Freeland, Cynthia. (2002). But is it art? Oxford University Press. Oxford. Gardner, Helen. (1970; 5th ed) Art Through the Ages. Harcourt-Brace. New York. Langer, Suusanne K. (1957, 3rd Ed.) Philosophy in a New Key - A Study in the Symbolism nReason, Rite, and Art. Harvard Press. Cambridge (Massachusetts). Moguch (). Dark Angel. Nehru, Sri Jawaharlal Nehru. (1962). Address to Ceylon Association for the Advancement of Science, Colombo Sri Lanka. As quoted in [Clarke, P. iv]. Roberts, J. M. (1992). History of The World. Oxford University Press. Oxford EDngland.