Next to the pastures of incompleteness lies a neighboring field, too, that has to do with aspiration and learning and, well, failure. Closely allied with the hanging-ness of incompletion. Take a look at Peter Schjeldahl's essay in the June 13 New Yorker (pp. 72-73). It's titled "Scaling Up" and tells of Schjeldahl's relishing of "the abundance of relatively -- and poignantly -- dud paintings in 'At the Dawn of a New Age: Early twentieth-Century American Modernism,' at the Whitney Museum." Schjeldahl sometimes flares up too brightly in his prose (I always forgive him!), but his observations are consistently sound and interesting. Like: "It is a fact of the art-loving experience that serious but failed ambitions teach more about the tenor of their times than contemporaneous successes, which freeze us in particular, awed fascination." And: "When something doesn't quite cohere, you can see what it's made of." Incompleteness, like aspiration, reveals.
Thanks for this brilliantly poetic insight Mark. So very true. I've been a big fan of Schjeldahl's work and some of his more contemporary work on abjectness and pleasure in times of atrocity. I agree, his prose is both exuberant and magical! I'll have to read "Scaling Up" tonight!
There is a strong didactic arch to incompleteness; embedded lessons that are obvious only in the absence of over domineering celebrations of success/'complete-ness'. Failure as I see it and as you've fluently alluded to, tends to give space for an excavation of the social and political realities underpinning specific moments.
It is however interesting that people in general (me included) often get bogged down with the specificities of particular 'failings' and the underlying lessons about the world and ourselves tend to be inadvertently siphoned off. Maybe, I'm being to sceptical and not giving humans enough credit! :)
"Great art represents reality just as much as it conceals it." This sentence, among many others, made me stop reading to drink it in. That sentence is great art. Loved this piece!
My artistic heart loved it! Especially as I view my newest very imperfect watercolor painting. I need to link this piece in one of my next essays. I am still relatively new to Substack and still learning how to best highlight other writers in a way that does them justice.
Jun 14, 2022·edited Jun 14, 2022Liked by Josh Pillay
Interesting that you associate Josh's post with your newest watercolor. As I re-read it this morning, I was thinking about the compulsion we often have to "fill everything in" -- which is a fatal error in watercolors especially, it seems to me. I was thinking about some Japanese watercolors that quite obviously allowed "empty" spaces to evoke, to allow the viewer to re-imagine, to allow us to "fill in" so to speak and thereby participate in the scene. Over my couch I have a large watercolor of birch trees in winter at dawn. The success of the piece relies on what's not there. I, too, will check out The Creator's Compass.
Thank you, Mark for this reply, as it came in perfect timing! For the last few years I've been learning illustration in order to illustrate a few of my children's stories, and in the process lost a bit of my fine arts knowledge and skill. Filling in by compulsion a watercolor painting is a fatal error in my opinion also, yet I do it again and again! I even wrote about how music is created by the sound between the notes (empty space) in one of my publications... how easily it is to forget these things when goals can blind the eyes.
That's wonderful to hear. I'm learning my way around Substack too especially its community driven features. I plan to do a reflection piece on some of the newsletters in the community that have resonated with me and The Creator's Compass is definitely on the list.
I had something similar in mind. Your publication is enlightening, and sharpens and grows my thinking capabilities, as well learning the art of writing by reading your words. When I get my footing in this new world, I'd love to collaborate somehow if you have interest and time. Looking forward to your essay next week. Have a peace-filled week!
Cheers Renee. I'm on a similar learning journey myself in regards to online writing. Definitely keen on a collaboration in the near future as both our newsletters have quite a few interesting topical overlaps.
There's incredible strength in being able to live life to the fullest even amidst all of its uncertainties. I wish I were better at it. I don't really try to control it, or understand it, but living productively through it is another thing altogether. I'm curious, Josh, if you don't mind sharing, does art and writing help for you?
I couldn't have articulated it better Brian. Writing has definitely provided me with an outlet to work through the uncertainties not in terms of intellectualising them but more in terms of acceptance. It's an incredibly challenging process to fully embrace life with all that is going on, but with every published essay I feel I've taught myself a little bit more in accepting things that I cannot change. To be honest, I falter more often than I succeed but I try and find a life lesson in each outcome. I also try and cherish the simple successes in life - right down to savouring my morning cup of coffee!
That's interesting about learning or teaching yourself something while writing. I had never considered it that way. As far as the simple successes in life like a good cup of coffee I definitely agree! I have an upcoming essay about treasuring the little moments and that has helped me during uncertainty. Thanks for your response!
Cheers, looking forward to reading your essay. Yes, always found writing to be strangely self-didactic. It's like the answers are within me and writing tends to bring them out.
Next to the pastures of incompleteness lies a neighboring field, too, that has to do with aspiration and learning and, well, failure. Closely allied with the hanging-ness of incompletion. Take a look at Peter Schjeldahl's essay in the June 13 New Yorker (pp. 72-73). It's titled "Scaling Up" and tells of Schjeldahl's relishing of "the abundance of relatively -- and poignantly -- dud paintings in 'At the Dawn of a New Age: Early twentieth-Century American Modernism,' at the Whitney Museum." Schjeldahl sometimes flares up too brightly in his prose (I always forgive him!), but his observations are consistently sound and interesting. Like: "It is a fact of the art-loving experience that serious but failed ambitions teach more about the tenor of their times than contemporaneous successes, which freeze us in particular, awed fascination." And: "When something doesn't quite cohere, you can see what it's made of." Incompleteness, like aspiration, reveals.
Thanks for this brilliantly poetic insight Mark. So very true. I've been a big fan of Schjeldahl's work and some of his more contemporary work on abjectness and pleasure in times of atrocity. I agree, his prose is both exuberant and magical! I'll have to read "Scaling Up" tonight!
There is a strong didactic arch to incompleteness; embedded lessons that are obvious only in the absence of over domineering celebrations of success/'complete-ness'. Failure as I see it and as you've fluently alluded to, tends to give space for an excavation of the social and political realities underpinning specific moments.
It is however interesting that people in general (me included) often get bogged down with the specificities of particular 'failings' and the underlying lessons about the world and ourselves tend to be inadvertently siphoned off. Maybe, I'm being to sceptical and not giving humans enough credit! :)
"Great art represents reality just as much as it conceals it." This sentence, among many others, made me stop reading to drink it in. That sentence is great art. Loved this piece!
Thanks so much Renee. Glad this one resonated! :)
My artistic heart loved it! Especially as I view my newest very imperfect watercolor painting. I need to link this piece in one of my next essays. I am still relatively new to Substack and still learning how to best highlight other writers in a way that does them justice.
Interesting that you associate Josh's post with your newest watercolor. As I re-read it this morning, I was thinking about the compulsion we often have to "fill everything in" -- which is a fatal error in watercolors especially, it seems to me. I was thinking about some Japanese watercolors that quite obviously allowed "empty" spaces to evoke, to allow the viewer to re-imagine, to allow us to "fill in" so to speak and thereby participate in the scene. Over my couch I have a large watercolor of birch trees in winter at dawn. The success of the piece relies on what's not there. I, too, will check out The Creator's Compass.
Thank you, Mark for this reply, as it came in perfect timing! For the last few years I've been learning illustration in order to illustrate a few of my children's stories, and in the process lost a bit of my fine arts knowledge and skill. Filling in by compulsion a watercolor painting is a fatal error in my opinion also, yet I do it again and again! I even wrote about how music is created by the sound between the notes (empty space) in one of my publications... how easily it is to forget these things when goals can blind the eyes.
Thank you for checking out The Creator's Compass.
That's wonderful to hear. I'm learning my way around Substack too especially its community driven features. I plan to do a reflection piece on some of the newsletters in the community that have resonated with me and The Creator's Compass is definitely on the list.
I had something similar in mind. Your publication is enlightening, and sharpens and grows my thinking capabilities, as well learning the art of writing by reading your words. When I get my footing in this new world, I'd love to collaborate somehow if you have interest and time. Looking forward to your essay next week. Have a peace-filled week!
Cheers Renee. I'm on a similar learning journey myself in regards to online writing. Definitely keen on a collaboration in the near future as both our newsletters have quite a few interesting topical overlaps.
There's incredible strength in being able to live life to the fullest even amidst all of its uncertainties. I wish I were better at it. I don't really try to control it, or understand it, but living productively through it is another thing altogether. I'm curious, Josh, if you don't mind sharing, does art and writing help for you?
I couldn't have articulated it better Brian. Writing has definitely provided me with an outlet to work through the uncertainties not in terms of intellectualising them but more in terms of acceptance. It's an incredibly challenging process to fully embrace life with all that is going on, but with every published essay I feel I've taught myself a little bit more in accepting things that I cannot change. To be honest, I falter more often than I succeed but I try and find a life lesson in each outcome. I also try and cherish the simple successes in life - right down to savouring my morning cup of coffee!
That's interesting about learning or teaching yourself something while writing. I had never considered it that way. As far as the simple successes in life like a good cup of coffee I definitely agree! I have an upcoming essay about treasuring the little moments and that has helped me during uncertainty. Thanks for your response!
Cheers, looking forward to reading your essay. Yes, always found writing to be strangely self-didactic. It's like the answers are within me and writing tends to bring them out.