Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, February 16, 1992 TAG: 9202130269
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CHARLIE BROUWER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
ACCIDENTS ARE PART OF ART PROCESS
In the simplest of terms, making art takes two steps. Artists get ideas. Then they create something. The result is their original idea come to life in a new sculpture, song, poem, dance or play.It may happen this way for some artists some of the time, but I suspect the process is usually more complex.
Artists do not always give much thought to the process of making their work, but I am also a teacher trying to help students understand how art is made.
I cannot recall all the mental and physical details that led to saying it, but I do recall being shocked when I told my students: "Art work is not made on purpose. It is made by accident."
What a thing to say to students who had been required to follow elaborate planning procedures before beginning their work. Besides, I keep journals, make drawings and models and give my work a lot of "prethought." So, when should we throw out the plans and start making accidents?
I wanted my students to see that plans and intentions are not the end but the beginning. Making art is not easy, and accidents may help the process.
I thought that if I could relate the making of art to an ordinary activity, it would be easier to understand. I proposed teaching my students how to walk.
We lean forward creating a potential accident. Our legs and feet go forward, and we avoid falling. To get anywhere, we need to create and recover from a series of accidents.
Can we know the result of any action before we take it? Not with certainty. In the making of art it may be more accurate and helpful if we think of it as creating accidents, and responding to them rather than making plans and carrying them through without change.
Many of us are familiar with the results of accidents in other media: Writers often tell of characters who appear in their writing and who take a novel in unexpected directions. We admire the actor who, when given a wrong line, is able to turn it back into the action of the play or anyone, for that matter, who can think on his feet.
A visual artist who is unable to take advantage of accidents is destined to start over many times and may be missing some exciting new results.
One day I found myself musing to my students: "If it works in art, what about in life?" Can we predict with certainty the results of any of our decisions? Majoring in business will not guarantee a job. Wearing a seatbelt will not protect us in every accident. But it isn't the same as taking risks in art.
We eventually have to put that foot out and catch ourselves. At least in art, we can treat every step in the process as an accident full of potential. We can lean into making art all the way, without putting our foot out, just to see what might happen. And the risk? Artists' work can fall short and end up being something else.
Viewing the process as a series of accidents causes us to examine the results of each of our actions to see what has happened before making our recovery. If we make enough accidents - and pay attention - we may end up creating things we had not fully visualized at the beginning. We may even accidentally make art.
Meanwhile, fasten your seatbelt and drive safely.
Charlie Brouwer is an assistant professor of art at Radford University. He also makes and exhibits sculptures.