I recently went to Coda Gallery in Soho for a reception for the artist Heather Barron. One of Heather's paintings hangs over my kitchen table. Heather came in from Salt Lake for the reception, and I thought it would be cool to meet her. I talked to her for a while, and she seemed genuinely grateful to meet someone who appreciated her art.
I am no art historian, and find it difficult to put into words what I like in art. Certainly I like some kind of sensuality. But if you look around at my art on my walls, you'll find lots of elongated torsos and long necks.
With this in mind, I asked Heather how the Italian Giacometti had influenced her. The response: I don't know him, but I'll check him out.
I would never had expected such a response, but then I started thinking about how it might apply to me. Do I know who has influenced me in my business? Do I know my predecessors? Sure I know some of the names, but I'm sure there are many I don't know, or who's influence was purely subconscious.
So why should Heather have to know who Giacometti is? Her art still affects me the same way. And maybe she is not out to change the way the world perceives. After all, how many days do you set out to change the way the world computes, banks, landscapes, or dresses? She enjoys painting, and that's apparently good enough for her.
I am not being pejorative or condescending. Yes, I expect artists to know major art figures of the past century. But there is something Buddhist, something in the here and now, just painting for one's self; or of just thinking of what wants to express and focusing single-mindedly of how to paint it. Sometimes to reach your true potential, to be a revolutionary, after all, you must unlearn what your teacher has taught you.
