| Steven
Beyer |
Collier
Schorr |
| James
Croak |
Kate
Moron |
The child in the work of the artists in
this show is closer to the primordial infant than the innocent
cherub. If there is something monstrous about this creature which
these artists attempt to represent, there is also something about
it which fascinates. The spirit of child's play is first of all
extremely important to the production of art because the artist
is the one who breaks down the boundary between work and play
in our culture. It is as small children that our work was also
our play. The artist works with play in order to cultivate creativity.
We could say that each of these artists is also trying to represent
a celebration of that anarchic spirit, the spirit of play itself.
In fact, Bataille wrote that it was the complexity of their play
which separated the first human beings from other primates and
it was play which spawned art which spawned the sacred which gave
birth to religion. The artist in our culture is someone in the
community which the puritanical fathers disapprove of because
all he or she seems to be doing is playing. Play is denigrated
because it is "for children" (How often do we hear the derogatory
imperative, "stop playing around"?) and leisure ("the getaway",
"the antidote to civilization"), the consumption of recreational
commodities is for mature adults. But play being self-generated,
does not depend on mass produced toys: play is a completely autonomous
set of activities that brings us right back to the roots of culture.
Play is based on the useless expenditure of energy and exists
in a monadic economic system. Play produces pleasure which serves
nothing but itself. Take, for example, word play. Playing with
words allows us to have fun with language itself by liberating
the nonsensical and arbitrary nature of symbolic systems.
The uncanny or monstrous aspect of this work which represents
the bodies of children either by invocation or evocation raises
the issues that limit experiences like fear and horror. Children
possess a mysterious quality to the adult who refuses the fantastically
fragmented world in which the child lives. The adult who is able
to interact with children is the adult who is able to identify
with them. The experience of being afraid of children is one which
is as easy to understand as the experience of being afraid of
one's fear as a child. But what could be more frightening that
to exist in a world ruled by creatures who are physically so much
bigger than one is? What world of giants would not be threatening
to a little person? The threat that the sexuality of children
poses to the order of the adult world is also astonishing. Our
Anglo-Saxon culture is still shaking off the Victorian myths of
childhood as a complete innocent, that is sexless time. The work
of the artists in this show is disturbing because the issues of
sexuality are raised specifically around the context of children
and although the works we see refer to innocence, they refer to
knowledge as well. The works refer to childhood as a realm of
possibility and complexity.
The artist who cultivates a special relationship to all of these
childish and infantile experiences can either become exalted,
stunted or psychotic. In any case, remaining childish is somehow
construed as a threat to our identities as big people. But we
live in a culture which, while it tries to sanitize childhood
experiences, also refuses to offer us meaningful rites of passage
into adulthood. Therefore, we remain distinctly infantile. The
artist who tries to plumb the mysteries of childhood is in a way
trying to understand our relationship with memory and loss in
an unsentimental way in order to produce a different version of
the adult subject. Each of the artists in this show offers us
a different lens on the child and the child's body in order to
do precisely that.
Catherine Liu
Read other essays
from the Lawrence Oliver Gallery
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