This past week, Jen and I were in New York for work and stayed the weekend for pleasure. I brought my daughter along for her first experience of the Big Apple before she had to head back to college, and so I thought about how we would spend our time in a more considered manner than I might have if I’d been on my own.
When I was first in college in Connecticut, we would occasionally take the train down to NYC and I remember our main objective was seeing theater (thank you, half-price same-day tickets) and maybe wedging in one particularly touristy activity if we could afford it. Cheesecake at the Roxy Diner was the pinnacle in the late ’80s, as far as I remember, and the slice was as big as the price. Or the price was as big as the slice? Anyway, we went big as far as we could with limited funds. (Unlike same-day discount theater tickets, which are, delightfully, still a thing, I’m not sure the Roxy cheesecake has held up, but it’s been decades, and we didn’t test the theory on this trip. Besides, I digress into time travel here …)
These days, when I have the chance to get to New York and have a few hours to spare, hitting a museum is always at the top of my list. Luckily, that aligns well with my artsy kid’s interests too, so I looked for an exhibit we might both enjoy, and a show that was about to close at the Whitney caught my eye. Ruth Asawa Through Line featured just one of the wire sculptures for which she is best known, instead focusing primarily on her drawings, sketches, and other paper works spanning some six decades or so. According to the exhibition description, Asawa drew daily, and the show included a wide range of pieces — ink portraits, watercolor studies, sketches for the wire forms, explorations of shape and line from her time at Black Mountain College, and striking, origami-inspired folded paper forms that shift and transform depending on your viewing angle.
“Art is not a series of techniques, but an approach to learning, to questioning, and to sharing.” —Ruth Asawa
I overheard one fellow visitor lamenting the fact that there was only that one piece of her most recognizable wire sculptures in the show (below), but for me a glimpse into the artist’s more everyday endeavors was pure delight.
According to the exhibition’s introduction, Asawa believed that “art is not a series of techniques, but an approach to learning, to questioning, and to sharing.”
I have never felt comfortable calling myself an “artist,” though I do enjoy dabbling in all sorts of art forms (again, more on that habit another time). I have never felt any real proficiency for rendering things well on paper. But this idea that drawing might be a different way of investigating the world around us made me stop and consider the benefits of trying to put aside my discomfort or ego-shyness when it comes to the technical aspects of drawing and rather embrace the act of attention and absorption its practice might afford.
So here I am in mid-January with what feels like another resolution, this one to focus my eyes on the things around me and, however haltingly or ineffectually, commit them to paper on a regular basis. The thought that this could be a consistent daily practice seems sort of ludicrous to this non-draw-er, but that also sounds like my achievement-minded ego talking, and I suppose the point here is the doing, the exploration not the product. So, what the hell, I’m grabbing a pencil …
I wonder if you’d indulge me in a little assignment of sorts? I marvel at those month-long art challenges like “Inktober,” and I promise this isn’t as involved as all that, but let’s call it a “Drawanuary” nudge just for fun. Take a walk around your house, or better yet take a little field trip to your local museum or art center, pick an object or a piece of art that snags your eye, and sketch it. Doesn’t have to be realistic; choose any medium you like; just let yourself get loose and explore, notice and express something in the making of a drawing. And share a quick snap with us in the comments below!
Here’s to exploring new ways of seeing, without worrying about polish or perfection.
Bullseye!
Asawa’s words “art is not a series of techniques, but an approach to learning, to questioning, and to sharing”, could not have come at a better time for me.
As professional “artist” since 2005, I’ve experimented and developed a lot of techniques over the years. Discussing them with artist friends and patrons at art festivals I’ve often felt a little sheepish doing so. Seeing customers’ eyes glaze over mid conversation was a visceral clue, hard to ignore.
Asawa’s quote puts it all in perspective. Learning, questioning and sharing shall henceforth be the stars that guide my artistic journey.
Oma, for the posting.