Friday, January 18, 2013

my own personal rebus


abstract still life after Van Aelst


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas  2012

abstract painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil, spray paint, acrylic gel on canvas, 2012

lemon still life


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

stripe painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

abstract painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil, collage, spray paint on canvas, 2012

melon still life #2


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

abstract painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil, spray paint on canvas, 2012

melon still life


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

rebus painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil, collage, spray paint on canvas, 2012

grid painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

after Van Aelst


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

abstract painting


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas  2012

melon still life #3


Todd Kelly
24" x 18"
oil on canvas, 2012

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

'My Own Personal Rebus' statement



‘My Own Personal Rebus’ is a puzzle.  There is no definitive solution to this puzzle but there is a good way to answer it…

In his 1988 novel, ‘Foucault’s Pendulum’, Umberto Eco tells the story of a group of editors working at a vanity press that specializes in occult and conspiracy publications who entertain themselves by creating their own ‘Plan’ connecting as many occult beliefs and historical events as possible under one grand narrative. Using a computer program that generates random connections between far-flung subjects they fill in missing links by liberally creating facts and even take the liberty to come up with a new fictional secret society. As their ‘Plan’ grows it begins to consume them and the editors find themselves believing it might possibly hold some truth, even going so far as to suggest the ‘Plan’ responsible for various real life events. The ‘Plan’ eventually finds its way into the hands of an occult author who does not know it to be a creation of his editors and he proceeds with the information as if it were actual research. In due course, one of the editors, Belbo, is kidnapped by a group of people who claim to be members of the newly created fictional secret society and demand to know the author and any further information concerning the ‘Plan’.

My paintings are created in a very similar manner to the ‘Plan’. I entertain myself by making the paintings I want to make at any given moment. The connection from one painting to the next relies on whim as much as design. The paintings originate in various ways: as an imitation of life, or maybe as a wry response to established systems of art-making, sometimes my work imitates other artists, and at other times the paintings are completely my own earnest creation. After working this way for a number of years I began to see a connection among them which set me to believing that I might be onto something big—a grand theme not yet discovered! Even knowing that they are the work of my own hands and come into being without a premeditated plan these randomly created pieces sit next to each other, grow familiar and become inexplicably linked. It is easy to slip into the belief that there is something real, bigger and more important than myself guiding the work. Is it possible familiarity alone be the entire reason these disparate objects sit next to each other so well? It is a mind game; I want to find a connection, I want there to be magic, I want it so desperately and then it begins to actually happen.  I am forced to question whether I am chancing upon a great new truth or forcing it into being. 

When it is discovered that Belbo has been kidnapped his fellow editor, Causabon, breaks into his apartment. Causabon knows that Belbo has kept a diary in his personal computer of all the random connections they were creating for the ‘Plan’ and the accompanying coincidence of real life events. Causabon believes that if he can read through the computer diary he will be able to learn who has taken Belbo and where they might be. The computer welcomes Causabon with the prompt: ‘Do you know the password?______’.  And Causabon spends several days trying all possible combinations of words and ideas, permutations of the names of God, names of philosophers, occult groups, secret societies etc.  Finally, in a moment of frustration when the computer once again prompts: ‘Do you know the password?____’ Causabon types: ‘NO’!  --and upon admitting that he does not have the required knowledge, the computer allows him access to the files.

Is it the artist’s job to come up with answers that the people of the world can use to fill in ‘the blank’? Is the point of producing art to reveal mystic truths? As a younger artist I think that is what I aspired to. The longer I live and the more I paint, however, it seems clear that the correct response is to humbly and gracefully admit that I don’t have answers.  And this ‘NO’ is the point at which my work begins to open up.