Controversy
Chiaroscuro:
"chi·a·ro·scu·ro [kee-ahr-uh-skyoor-oh]
n. pl. chi·a·ro·scu·ros In all senses also called claire-obscure.
1. The technique of using light and shade in pictorial representation.
2. The arrangement of light and dark elements in a pictorial work of art.
3. a. A woodcut technique in which several blocks are used to print different shades of a color.
b. A woodcut print made by this technique.
[Italian : chiaro, bright, light (from Latin cla-rus, clear) + oscuro, dark (from Latin obscu-rus).]"
In college I took a few basic art classes and at one point we studied the beautiful style called chiaroscuro, or the use of light and dark in a picture. Now, this style doesn't encompass the simplicity of, "Oh look - that dog is casting a shadow. In direct sunlight." (Pause) "Wow." It means the main of the picture is very dark, and the central subject or subjects are lit up in a dramatic manner - as with fire light, for instance. The pictures have very contrasting bits of almost solid darkness broken by bright patches of light. Think of those old comics and horror-movie stills of the villain's face lit from below; the edge between the highlights and the shadows can be very distinct, though this is not always the case, especially in the old paintings that brought this particular style to life.
One of our projects for this study, as you can imagine, was to draw a picture using only pencil and blender in the chiaroscuro style. While I very much liked the style, for the life of me I could not think of anything to draw. One evening while waiting for inspiration to strike, I was sitting cross-legged on my bed with a pad of paper in my lap. I was barefoot, and had lit candles as my source of light to "get into the mood," so to speak. One of the candles I had actually set on my bed to cast a better light on the paper, and had it resting against one bare foot for stability. I know; dangerous, stupid, just asking to cause a fire, but I kept a sharp eye on it - and actually, that's how inspiration struck.
The candle I had on the bed was a typical column candle, and as such, when lit the top inch or two of wax glowed nicely, fading at the edges into just the wax outside of the column. The top edge of wax had melted in such a fashion that some of the flame's light peeked up over this edge to cast some pretty spectacular lighting over the paper, and coincidentlaly on my foot.
So, there was my picture. Envision, if you will, a candle and foot, the foot seen resting on it's side on the slightly rumpled blanket of a bed, the arch sort of cupping the side of the candle. It turned out very nicely, if I do say so myself.
Can you see where this is going?
The day that the project was due, we all trotted in with our drawings, comparing them before class started. I unrolled mine and set it on the table, and almost immediately I was asked, incredulously, "Oh my gawd, Sketch, what the hell did you draw?!?" This was followed by gasps and laughter as everyone turned to look at my drawing.
The young man who had asked the question had only gotten a quick glance at my drawing, and he was standing a good seven or eight feet away. From this distance, and due to the very style of the project - light and dark - he saw simply a lumpish thing near the bottom of the page seemingly connected to a long column-like object which took up the rest of the page. The size of the candle compared to the foot just happened to be, well, suspiciously close to, um, "anatomically correct" for ... something else.
... Can you see it now?
Realizing for the first time what I had inadvertently created, I blushed and stammered "What? It's just a candle and a foot." Silence followed this for a few heartbeats, and then more laughter, more friendly jests. I hadn't helped the situation, it seemed, with that statement. Naive as I am prone to be, the thought of socially-taboo fetishes had been the furthest thing from my mind until that moment. And then the full twisted innuendo of it hit me: I had drawn a foot fondling a candle, and to make the sexual context of it as clear as possible to the viewer, foot and candle just happened to be positioned to look like a very happy penis. With a glowing head.
As I blushed further, and giggled, and rolled my eyes and tried to explain that was pure coincidence and I hadn't meant anything by it, one of my favorite professors, who had slipped into the room unnoticed by me, spoke up. "No! No, no - this is great. This is fantastic! Go with it - sell it! Do you have any idea how much money you could make with something like this? The controversy of it alone could make you millions, literally!"
He went on to explain that throughout history (this was my Art History professor, by the way) controversy played an enormous role in artwork, and that a piece of art with enough controvery surroudning it, or just the "right" controversy, would very often be held more valuable than some of the very greatest of the masterpeices we all know so well today. He gave an example of a painting that had such a huge controversy surrounding it that the artist had people worldwide wanting to buy it, for literally billions of dollars, and that the collector who eventually bought the piece bought it sight-unseen, with no way to veryify any talent or skill, because all they were interested in was the controversy. The artist became a billionaire overnight.
The good-natured joking pretty much died after he said that, and my fellow students then looked at me as if I had created some incredible masterpiece and would be the next Bosch. Of course there were still a few helpness giggles, but overall I was seen to have become the "art genius" overnight - and it was completely by accident ... I swear.
Since that day I have considered my professor's words carefully, especially since I enjoy darker artwork involving demons and monsters and the like. I particularly like artwork that involves the corruption of things that are usually seen as good and light - a form of chiaroscuro of the psyche, of you will. I'm not sure why I like these things and have long since given up trying to figure it out. I just like them. A lot. And it shows in my own artwork, with my preference for drawing these sorts of things. And some of the things I draw - forgive me, mom - can be pretty controversial themselves.
In the area of good things corrputed, I have been working on a series of pictures involving my version of Nightmares (the creatures, not the bad dreams). My Nightmares are corrupted unicorns, pegusi and - and this is my favorite - carousel horses, twisted into crazed, malicious versions of their former selves by that primitive dark evil that spawns into our hearts such things as demons and devils to convince us to be good to each other. In fact, most of the Nightmares are created through the interference of demons and all manner of demonic devices, from straight-up claws to meat hooks to things the like of which are seen in the Saw movies.
I have so many ideas for this series that if I ever draw or paint out every one it will be an enormous collection, and I've even toyed with the idea of full-sized sculptures, if I ever learn the art of sculpting.
Needless to say, these pictures aren't the sort that just anyone would buy to hang on their living room wall for all to see. There is a lot of blood in them, ripped muscle, bone, etc., and that alone would be enough to prevent them from being shown to the mainstream populus. Add to that the fact that it's unicorns for godsakes - the purest, most innocent of creatures ever - that are being de-horned and twisted to such a horrible degree and if I were religious I'd probably be risking excommunication by the Pope himself. Hell, he'll probably black-list them anyway, and threaten excommunication and damnation to anyone who views them, much less collects them.
And that's what I want. Not only would I get to draw some of the twisted things I see in my head and not have to stash them away, never to be shown professionally, but the controversy they'd likely create could conceivably give me a quick status in the darker niches of the art world, and that would be my shoe-in for any other artwork I'd want to show and sell, dark or light or whatever.
Anyone can draw a picture of a sunset, but how many will draw a unicorn with it's face slashed and seeming almost to grin gleefully amid the gore?
I will. I do.
And when I see the things I draw I sometimes fall into wondering just what it is about such darkness that draws me, and what it says about me and possibly my morals or social sanity. Then I remember my professor's words and realize that no matter what Freud might say about it, I'm not the only one drawn to things that don't fit into a Utopic social idea of goodness and light and morality; that, in fact, as is seen throughout history, such controversy and upset is a necessary part of life in that it forces us to face those darker aspects of ourselves, our societies and our ways of life and to attempt to change our world for the better, accordingly.
Call it a necessary evil. Call it a strange therapeutic acceptance of our primitive brains. Call it twisted, if you will. But call it something; let it speak to you and let it make you feel something other than, "Oh, what a nice use of colors." Hate it or love it; let it move you to make changes in your own lives to exorcize your demons and become stronger for it.
When someday you see a picture of one of my Nightmares rearing, bloody, on a carousel with flayed cheeks so that it can scream a bigger scream and you wonder why the gleam in it's eye seems to be one of triumph rather than fear, see the darkness that pervades our everyday lives, twisting our dreams and ambitions to stress, anger, fear, hatred and distrust. See the lack of food in third-world countries while we waste whole dishes because they "didn't turn out quite right." See the nations of people who become passionately enraged at words like "nappy headed hos," but only shake their heads, sigh and turn the page at stories of mothers who allow their husbands to rape and kill their children while they watch and egg them on. See murderers turned loose on the streets because they "had a rough childhood." See one more species wiped from existence because someone wanted a fancy, sophisticated meal or a nice coat or purse.
See all the things that show our darker, twisted nature, and let whatever disgust or rage or fascination you feel direct you to act to change these things, and then look again at the images to ensure you do not forget that this is our world, and we alone make it good or evil, light or dark, welcoming or dangerous. Let the images I create remind you that you have the power give the unicorn back it's horn, no matter how tattered the beast.
If controversy is what draws people, in disgust or fascination, I will use it to make my own difference in the world by moving people to think beyond what their television tells them, and to react to what they see by making even just little changes in their everyday life, or by volunteering for a cause, or by donating fifteen fucking dollars to a charity, so that the demons they see portrayed remain portrayals and cease to come to life to haunt the dreams and aspirations of humanity.
I hope to see you all there at my first-ever art show, whenever that may be. I'll get you in for free, I promise.
