a bit more than two years ago, my life changed. true, one could argue that a life is constantly changing, but in december 2007, i had two experiences – tucked inside a trip abroad – that changed my life in a significant way, leading me directly to where i sit, snuggled in bed in austin, texas.
the quick and dirty: in december 2007, i went to england for the first time, to visit my friend zara in london, and my friend donna in cambridge. six months before, i’d broken up with a guy after more than three years together. i was feeling a little lost, and this was the first of two trips (the second being my road trip to austin for sxsw in 2008) that went a long way toward deciding the course of my life.
you see, this trip reminded me of the power of art.
i’d been singing in bands (and even, on one occasion, playing guitar and singing in a band of my own devising) for several years – that kept the joy of performance, the sheer delight of being an ‘entertainer’ on the surface of my life in a way i’d abandoned during college. and sometimes, it felt like art. but by december, the band i was in had started to fall apart, and i didn’t have anything else on the horizon. i was getting comfortable in the job i’d started at the beginning of the year, i was living pretty far from the subway system out in medford, and my romantic life was awkward and miserable.
then i went to england. in london, i saw two things that changed my world view in a big way. shook me to my core and made me realize what i really wanted.
first was a retrospective at the tate modern. the artist? louise bourgeois. this paris-born artist is 98 and still creating art in new york city. the exhibit knocked me over. first, it was the biggest retrospective of a female artist’s work i’d ever seen. second, the fact that a person could be nearly a century old and still making earth-shaking, strange, bold art filled me with awe.
but most importantly, her work was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, with an immediate, intense emotional impact. ranging from drawing to monumental sculpture, her work makes no bones about her lifelong struggle with depression, and her childhood is a recurring theme. perhaps her best known work is the maman series, sculptures of huge spiders symbolizing her mother, who was a repairer of tapestries. the tate had one outside the museum, towering over its visitors. standing beneath, one could look up and see a compartment containing spider’s eggs.
i loved her themes, her ideas, and the fact that she frequently used craft, activities
generally relegated to the realm of ‘women’s work,’ in a subversive manner. (par example, this embroidered scarf.) wandering the exhibit, i got a clear picture of the life of this tiny frenchwoman, married in her twenties, and widowed more than thirty years ago, currently building monumental ‘cells’ – whole rooms evoking the stories of her life. they reminded me of robert rauschenberg’s found object ‘combines,’ but they boast a mixture of femininity and creeping dread that make them unique.
the force of louise bourgeois’ work was evident to me then, and i’ve seen her work in many other museums since – at SFMOMA, at centre pompidou in paris, at MOMA new york. louise is clearly a dogged laborer, a dark-hearted wonder, and a living treasure. she inspires me as no visual artist has.
next time: the other knocked-on-my-ass moment, courtesy of a theatre company called punchdrunk.
