A few months back I was talking shop with another artist, and we got onto the subject of the qualities and elements that make a body of work distinctively recognizable as the creation of a Particular Artist, so that when you see that new work you know without a doubt who did it.
[watercolors/acrylics on paper, 11″ x 15″]
In the Blue Room
He’d used the word signature — and, dopey me, at the time I’d thought he actually meant the manner of signing one’s name to a newly finished work.
Yeah. I shoulda had the wits to press him for clarification right then, considering he refers to the figures in his own works as ‘characters’ [a concept I totally dig], but I have this naive tendency to take things at face value. As a consequence, I completely missed any nuances that might’ve been in his wording.
Hindsight is said to be 20/20 — but it takes some things longer to come into focus for me. Wisdom needs to gestate, like a pearl accumulating its layers of nacre. That, or I just need to pay closer attention.
So here I am, again pondering this thing he’d called signature. For my own needs that word doesn’t quite work. I don’t want to replace it with the word style — style can be shallow, a passing fancy tied to an era and its social politics, unforgivably dating it. But ‘technique’ doesn’t fit, either — that’s the mechanical process of physically creating the art.
Okay, back to the idea of ‘characters’ instead of ‘figures’, approaching it all as narratology —
Maybe the word I’m looking for is ‘voice’ — like when a writer has a distinctive, recognizable way of stringing words together to get ideas across. That kind of recognition is akin to being able to pick out a voice you know in a crowded and noisy restaurant — a personal blend of pitch, timbre, cadence and vocabulary, and sometimes unconscious poetry.
Along with having and developing my ‘voice’ as a visual artist, I need to ask myself :
What do I want to say?