CERTAIN DOUBT
A Thesis
Presented to the faculty of the Department of Art
California State University, Sacramento
Submitted in partial satisfaction of
the requirements for the degree of
MASTER OF ARTS
in
Art Studio
by
Emily Teresa Swinsick
SPRING
2013
CERTAIN DOUBT
A Thesis
by
Emily Teresa Swinsick
Approved by:
__________________________________, Committee Chair
Sarah Flohr, M.F.A.
__________________________________, Second Reader
Andrew Connelly, M.F.A
____________________________
Date
ii
Student: Emily Teresa Swinsick
I certify that this student has met the requirements for format contained in the University
format manual, and that this thesis is suitable for shelving in the Library and credit is to
be awarded for the thesis.
__________________________, Graduate Coordinator ___________________
Andrew Connelly, M.F.A.
Date
Department of Art
iii
Abstract
of
CERTAIN DOUBT
by
Emily Teresa Swinsick
Doubt. Whether we admit it or not, it is a common thread through all humans. It pertains
to being an artist and the emotional and physical acts of making, but more importantly, to
everyday life.
Ultimately as an artist, I relate to the “everyday”. To me, it is important to be relatable
because I am an everyman; just an ordinary person. I don’t necessarily have impressive
ideas that will change the world, although I would love to. These are rational thoughts,
not self-deprecating.
_______________________, Committee Chair
Sarah Flohr, M.F.A.
_______________________
Date
iv
DEDICATION
For my mom; her endless support and understanding has always saved me.
v
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
Dedication………………………………………………………………………………...v
List of Figures…………………………………………………………………................vii
Chapter
INTRODUCTION………………………………………………………………………...1
CANDID………….……………………………………………………………………….2
Fear…………………………………………………………………………………...2
Speaking……………………………………………………………………………...3
Flip-flopping………………………………………………………………………….3
Rules………………………………………………………………………………….4
Joy…………………………………………………………………………………….4
Improvement………………………………………………………………………….4
THE PHYSICAL…………………………………………………………………….........6
THE STEPS...…………………………….……………………………………………….9
One…………………………………………………………………………………...9
Two…………………………………………………………………………………..9
Three………………………………………………………………………………..10
Four………………………………………………………………………………….11
Five………………………………………………………………………………….12
ENTERING UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY.……………………………………………..13
Bibliography……………………………………………………………………………..24
vi
LIST OF FIGURES
Figures
Page
1.
At First You Don’t, 2011, Mixed Media, 3’ x 4’…………………………………….15
2.
French Seam, 2012, Mixed Media, 3’ x 4’………………………………………….16
3.
Avocado Fridge, 2012, Plaster, Size Variable……………………………………….17
4.
Martinez, 2012, Mixed Media, Size Variable……………………………………….18
5.
Mary Shelley (installation view), 2012, Mixed Media, Size Variable........................18
6.
Horsehead, 2013, Mixed Media, 48.5’’ x 7’……………….......................................19
7.
Brocade, 2013, Mixed Media, 16.5’’ x 40’’…………………………………………20
8.
Cave Dweller, 2013, Mixed Media, 60.5’’ x 84’’……………………………………21
9.
Macro, 2013, Mixed Media, 24.5’’ x 49’’………………………...............................22
10. Micro, 2013, Mixed Media, 24.5’’ x 49’’……………………………………………22
11. Patisserie, 2013, Mixed Media, 3’ x 79’’………………...........................................23
vii
1
INTRODUCTION
Have you accepted yourself (as an artist)?
This was said to me in the first minutes, on the first day of my first year as a graduate
student. What a simple question. The answer was a resounding no.
How do you begin to do so? Do I have to? Should I?
I do not easily express to someone that I am indeed an artist because I will always be an
art student at heart.
2
CANDID
Fear:
This is a list of wants.
I never seem to truly realize what I have accomplished.
Nor am I happy with myself as not only a maker, but as a whole.
I am a jealous person. I envy things people make; their ideas seem to always trump the
ones I conjure up.
I wish to live others’ lives. I can always find fault in what I do from day to day.
These desires should be fueling the fire, but truthfully, they hold me back. This is
something that I do to myself. There is no one telling me that my life stinks or my plans
will fall through.
It is all in my head.
With that said, I do believe in myself. I seem to come off as a very outwardly confident
person, but those who know me best, have heard my endless lists of complaints.
There are people in my life that have been vocal with thinking that this could be seen as
an inferiority complex or a lack of confidence. Perhaps they’re right, but to me, it is seen
as a rational thought.
Not everything I make is art (or artfully made). Sometimes there is just a need to create
with my hands. I believe the doubt stems from not always feeling the need of putting the
label of “art” on what I’ve made. Artist, Joseph Beuys said “everyone is an artist”; so
why is it difficult for me to believe? Beuys’ idea is not only blunt but completely true.
The simple fact of its obviousness is what makes it so startling. Everyone can make.
3
There is no right or wrong when it comes to art, so who can truly deem one thing trash
and another a masterpiece? If I say it is art and someone else disagrees, then does that
make it any less of a piece of art? Never.
What it comes down to it is the confidence level it takes to proclaim it “art”. If the maker
is not certain about the work, then why should the critic be?
Speaking:
I do not always want to discuss or analyze why I make. I can say that even after talking
and thinking for hours over some pieces, that some of the things I’ve said are not
accurate. I do not believe that makes my claims fraudulent, as much as theoretical.
Perhaps there are not solid answers that can be given about the work. This problem seems
to arise the more frequently a piece is discussed. In talking with others, it comes to light
that their ideas of the work strike my interest; things I haven’t considered. As with most
artists, my ideas are ever changing; never allowing one answer to be solved without a
new question arising.
Flip-flopping:
I feel as though I do not want to pigeon-hole myself into one category of art. In school
(even as an undergraduate) I have not been able to stay with one medium or means of
approaching it. Perhaps if I were born ten years later, I would be thought as having
attention deficit disorder. I do not see this as a downfall or a rollercoaster of ideas, as
much as a need or want to try it all. I love the idea of being able to do everything. I want
to be able to prove myself. I feel that this is the way to be well-rounded in a field where
the possibilities are endless.
4
Rules:
The problem I face as a maker is failure to work outside of the rules I’ve created for
myself. I constantly do this.
By making rules, I am setting myself up for failure. These boundaries are fictitious and
only create roadblocks in production. The guidelines that are thought to be true are
always harsh and seem to go against any inclination I would have naturally. I have
discovered that the only reason I create a set of limitations for myself is to break them. It
has taken me the entire length of the graduate program to realize that rules are like nasty
habits; they must be broken and stopped.
Joy:
Why create? If doing work does not bring joy, there is no reason to do it; plain and
simple. For me, there is no grandiose idea. I am not trying to change the minds of those
around me. I do not have a strong or profound statement to proclaim. I just enjoy making.
My hands and mind need to stay busy. The explanation of why I make is where I always
find fault. If I knew, would I continue seeking new ideas? The point of making is to
discover new routes to the same destination. Where I’m supposed to end up, I do not
know. As I continue searching for the answer I feel as though I am constantly changing
the question.
Improvement:
To address the previously mentioned lack of confidence: It is true (somewhat).
I wish I were better.
5
Not necessarily a better maker, but better at all that comes with it. I want to desire to go
into the studio. I would like to have the personal drive it takes to have a longing feeling if
I am away from a canvas for too long. Instead, I do other things. I think it is better to be
aware of these downfalls.
The knowledge of the issues you deal with yourself means that you have the capability of
fixing them. Being in the dark about your verbally announced annoyances probably
means that you are just speaking; flowing complaints out of your mouth freely without
taking the time to think about them. This can be hurtful and empty. I have also had my
fair share of these issues as well.
These may seem more like desperate attempts to describe myself or my personal
situations to persuade you that I am indeed a maker, but in truth they all relate to my
process.
6
THE PHYSICAL
The work I’ve created that I am most proud of has been done with a mixture of found and
recycled objects incorporating traditional means of painting and drawing. I like the sense
of ingenuity it takes to piece the multiple mediums together. It tends to satisfy multiple
urges artistically.
I began using found objects through obsessions of collecting. The need to take lots of
small pieces to create one large thing brings a collective, warm sense. It feels like the
pieces were always separated and for some strange reason, I am the only one that can see
they match; making them whole. Sewing, binding, gluing, bonding; relating all things
together that aren’t normally perceived that way originally gives a greater sense of
community. These items are related; whether it is initially seen that way or not.
My general need to create is brought out in other less than “fine art” ways, as well.
Maybe I’ll sew a skirt or write a heartfelt letter to a friend. Just being able to put my
touch on something can satisfy the urge to create. I can make these simple tasks feel like
art, at least to me. Not everyone sees this the same way I do. I understand and can relate
to some measure. I suppose I believe what Bruce Nauman said. It is the intention that
makes the ordinary into art; it is art, “…because I said so.”
Referencing artists has always been a struggle for me. Thinking back to the ones that
inspired me the most in the past are still the same, yet my work has changed drastically. I
have always been influenced by Andy Warhol and Joseph Cornell; their common thread
lying in the everyday. Their work deals with recognizable imagery and items, but
transformed in a new way. It was not until recently that I discovered this correlation. I
7
assumed it had to be based on taste or preference. As in the same realm of Joseph
Cornell, I like to use objects that are found on a daily basis or within the home. In At
First You Don’t (Page 15) the repetition of the doily was carried on from the knitting and
crocheting of my grandmother and her sisters. Growing up, these normally considered
“old lady” items were what I knew. I was able to see past their primary use and think of
the time and patience they took to create. I can appreciate each delicate layer that must
use the row before it for support.
The little things that surround us can often be what surprise us most. My connection to
small tokens of the everyday makes me feel as though I can overcome the doubt I
typically feel. It motivates me to keep trying. For example, I (just like many others) have
been finding loose change on city streets for years. Around two years ago, I decided to
begin to keep track of the type of coin, year and amount found. Once I started
maintaining this log, it seemed as though I was finding more and more money. I would
argue that simply being aware of something as small as a lost dull penny opens the mind
to possibilities of more hidden items in our everyday life. I feel if I spot a gem and gather
inspiration from it, then there must be tons more out there.
I just have to keep looking.
Thoughts like this have majorly influenced my most recent work. As seen in Micro and
Macro (Page 22), the viewer must get close to the work. Once at nose length, it is
obvious that the previous applied layers created pocket-like moments in time. Each one
of the bubbled sections is different, dependant on what came before it. What intrigues me
most about these moments is that the individual experience can change for each viewer.
8
Andy Warhol’s influence stems from bright uses of color that immediately draw the eye
in. The pop culture references came later to me because of the young age I started to like
them; it was strictly visually appealing. The beautiful women and rugged men repeated
on the canvas in flashes of color was enough for me. Later, when I began to understand
the correlation to society and advertising, I was able to fully comprehend the importance
it plays in my visual goals. With Mary Shelley (Page 18), I tried to combine both the
reference to well-known items in culture and the use of brilliant colors. Warm jewel tones
were represented by the brilliant copper color of the pans and then mimicked by acrylic
paint. The contrast of shiny metal and matte acrylic gave a push and pull to the surface
along with an architectural ascetic. The mass of 72 small pans hanging on the wall looked
more like an aerial view of a city layout. This type of transformation is what I strive for.
9
THE STEPS
In the previous chapter, I mentioned how setting rules for yourself is a bad thing. As I
have attempted to shed the rules created for myself, I have found a natural precession of
steps I take to complete a piece.
These are not rules. Any step may be skipped at any time. These are merely what have
been noticed as a constant in my making.
One:
Dream, continuously. There are always things I want to make; beautiful things. I dream
not just what they will be, but how it’s displayed. More than what something is going to
be, I know the emotion I want to create. These feelings are important to me. I come at the
idea with the mindset of a film director; I think of the space, the door the viewer will
enter, the way the light will hit a surface. It’s all quite romantic.
I thrive on the potential of a mere vision because while the project remains only a
thought, it can be flipped and changed on a whim. Logic and rationalization are not
present here nor do they have to be. This is why possibilities are endless. Problems like
gravity and cost do not exist here.
Ironically, to date, nothing I have ever made has even resembled what it looked like in
my mind.
Two:
Gather the necessary tools. Before any physical making, I need to have as many things I
can fill in my working area. More often than not, these things do not make it into the final
10
work. Still, I need to be surrounded by things. Just as they fill the space around me, they
permeate my brain and begin to solidify possibilities.
I have long considered myself a hunter and gatherer. I relate this characteristic to the
oddities instilled in me by my grandmother (who lived with my mom and me from my
birth till the age of 14). She was raised in a large Polish family in up-state New York
during the Depression; everything was reused or repurposed. I know all these quirks are
passed down from her and as much as she is an inspiration to me, it is more about what
was learned during that time. The likes and dislikes that were given to me from her are
with me every day. They cannot be separated from creating.
For me, her simple lifestyle of repurposing led to an obsession with collecting and
finding hidden treasures at thrift stores. In works like Martinez (Page 18), bundt pans are
transformed into spouts of metallic oil which spill out onto flattened smaller pans.
Changing the context of the average item creates a double meaning. Being able to
transform old or discarded materials gives me purpose. It makes me feel as though I’ve
discovered something new. Ultimately, I feel like this purpose is what we strive for as
humans, not just as artists.
Three:
Mess it up. Possibly even destroy it.
This is the most comical step of the process. If you are not able to laugh at the ridiculous
nature of making a mistake on something important, then you will go insane. It’s
inevitable that just by physically touching something, I will mess it up. It happens every
time. I have come to terms with this, but somehow put it out of my mind right up until the
11
moment I drop the ball. With this step comes a lot of cursing (obviously). Bandages and
thrice daily trips to the same hardware store have been known to make appearances as
well.
Until recently I thought that I was alone in this step. I have always seen my mess-ups as
large and over the top. For the most recent of my work, when I got frustrated, I cut holes
directly in the middle of them; large ones. Why in a moment of frustration am I driven to
essentially destroy what I’ve made?
I have slowly come to terms with the realization that this step is crucial. For me it is a
way to clear the clutter in my brain. Previous to the destruction is a road block. There are
no successful ideas or manipulations that can happen. The damage causes a new, very
welcomed problem, allowing the brain to focus on solving this new issue.
Four:
Fix it. This is what feels like the most inventive stage of the process. This is where all
previous steps come together. With the newly created problem comes tricks and ideas to
be tested out. This part seems to have the most innovation. The problem is always
different, which means the solution should be as well. You are not afraid to try things that
may damage the piece (being that it was already corrupted).
Many artists would describe Step Three as “chance”, but I would say this moment is
where the real opportunity happens. You are free. Nothing can hold back the flow of ideas
because now you are excited to make work again. The road is open and you’re the only
car out there.
12
Five:
Stop. Walk away. Don’t think about it. Don’t come back to it for a day, maybe two.
There always comes a moment when you think you could just do a couple more things. If
I paint across the left side and then stick a piece of wood right down the center…don’t.
Just don’t.
There have been numerous times where following that gut feeling has taken me backward
to Step Three. It is not a fun place to be. On the contrary, there have been just as many
times that doing that same idea was the best decision.
In either case, the common thread is time. Taking time away from the piece is the best
thing you can do. Although the image of it will probably be running through your mind,
the physical work won’t be glaring back at you. In place of working on the piece,
discussing with trusted people is a helpful means of progressing. The ones nearest and
dearest to you can give lots of sound advice. I find that it is good to talk to those who
make art in conjunction with those who don’t. More often than not, my friends who have
no artistic background solve the piece. They aren’t coming at the work with an eye for
composition or the logistics of where it sits in history. They are always able to tell you in
layman terms what they like and what they don’t. God bless them.
Now comes the inevitable doubt. Am I done?
13
ENTERING UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY
The nerves bubbling up in my gut have arrived. I’m not quite sure if it is fear or
excitement; maybe a combination. I am about to be pushed out into the real world for the
first time.
What happens now? I have been in school forever; my forever. I haven’t made work that
has not been analyzed by a professor in eight years. How do I continue outside of
academia? Will I be able to determine things for myself? Too many questions. They will
never stop. I think I am okay with this. If I don’t ask questions does that mean I am done
learning? That doesn’t seem healthy.
I have not made work without a deadline, ever. Will I be able to create without the
pressure? Somehow I believe my conscience is telling me yes.
In this program, coming to what feels like full circle is not as soothing as originally
imagined. The sense of understanding and revelation I thought would happen have not
arrived. What stands in its place is more fear; mostly of the unknown.
In this last semester of work, I decided to go back to where I started.
I came into the graduate program with a background in painting and drawing. At the end
my undergraduate program, I made a piece for myself. There was absolutely nothing
scholastically that drove me to make it. I took slices of wood from a fallen tree at a
friend’s home and burned images of toppling teacups. 50 slices of wood in total were then
hung in a group formation. Seeing the work grow and the feeling of accomplishment
from its feedback has been hard to beat to this day. That piece motivated and pushed me
14
into working with mixed media. I don’t have to call it a painting or a sculpture; it is just a
thing.
So now to decide what to do.
I will be leaving school with an advanced degree and a plethora of skills it takes to create
something beautiful. Am I to go out into the world and make it more beautiful? Should
people find this beauty on their own?
All I know for certain is I want to make. I won’t have to be as good as others or compare
our methods. The moment I stop making is the moment I give in to the doubt. I must
always stay on top of it; one step ahead. I refuse to give in to the struggle and as long as I
maintain my hard-headed ways, I know I can succeed.
15
1. At First You Don’t, 2011, Mixed Media, 3’ x 4’
16
2. French Seam, 2012, Mixed Media, 3’ x 4’
17
3. Avocado Fridge, 2012, Plaster, Size Variable
18
4. Martinez, 2012, Mixed Media, Size Variable
5. Mary Shelley (installation view), 2012, Mixed Media, Size Variable
19
6. Horsehead, 2013, Mixed Media, 48.5’’ x 7’
20
7. Brocade, 2013, Mixed Media, 16.5’’ x 40’’
21
8. Cave Dweller, 2013, Mixed Media, 60.5’’ x 84’’
22
9. Macro, 2013, Mixed Media, 24.5’’ x 49’’
10. Micro, 2013, Mixed Media, 24.5’’ x 49’’
23
11. Patisserie, 2013, Mixed Media, 3’ x 79’’
24
BIBLIOGRAPHY
“Bruce Nauman: “The Stairway”. Art 21. PBS, n.d. Web. 5 May 2013.
Lowenstein, Oliver. “Everyone is an Artist”. Art for Earth’s Sake. Resurgence &
Ecologist Magazine, March/April 2004. Web. 7 May 2013.