Fabric Madness

This story was first published in Weekend Post newspaper (18-24 February 2012) 

“It is only too true that a lot of artists are mentally ill- it’s a life which, to put it mildly, makes one an outsider. I’m all right when I completely immerse myself in work, but I’ll always remain half crazy,” so said Dutch post-impressionist painter Vincent van Gogh. Half crazy or fully blown psychosis, Van Gogh cut off his own ear and gave it as a present to a prostitute, though art historian would later argue that it was, in fact, his friend French painter Paul Gauguin who slashed it off with a sword in a fit of anger. 

Madness in art doesn’t always translate to the artist’s mental lunacy. It may - putting literal rendition aside – mean that which viewers may not directly comprehend yet its significance is not only bluntly felt but somewhat experienced. Chaotically stretched and crucified painfully at Thapong Visual Arts Centre are multicoloured pieces of fabrics, which have been, once upon a time, beautiful pieces of attire. The artworks create a visual network that spans across the entire hall, consequently imitating three-dimensional brush strokes suspended from the ceiling, pinned on the floor and nailed on walls.  

I interacted with a group of 40 artists from all around the country who met at Thapong on 1^st of February for a three days workshop themed ‘fabric as an art form.’  It was a period within which local artists and school teachers experienced a kind of art previously unknown in the country. The workshop was facilitated by American artist Victoria Greising who was brought into the country by the American Embassy. Greising works exclusively with fabrics installations. Her manipulation of fabrics, she says, “facilitates a new interaction and evokes a sense of being surrounded, protected, and enveloped by clothing.” She sees her art as a deconstruction and construction into an environment and space. Unlike a painting where the artist has the delight of mixing and manipulating colours, Greising’s works use ‘found colour.’ The ultimate colours of the artwork are thus determined by the clothing that contributed to the installation. Asked why she chose clothing, she responds; “the subcategories of clothing is more specific, yet universal. Clothing is a signifier of identity, class, culture and historical decades.” 

The group of artists under Greising’s facilitation ripped old clothes and other types of fabrics and spread into eight groups. By the end of the first day, the space they inhabited had undergone drastic transformations. Each group produced abstract or perhaps non-objective installations which began creeping on walls, crawling on the floor and most of them hanging on space like cyber creatures. The fabrics created taut and high-tension lines and shapes that interlaced around and within each other. By the end of the last day, the web of fabrics pulsated with colour, line and shape. Unlike a naturalistic piece of art, the installations at Thapong cannot be literally or directly translated. Even through the construction of the installations, most artists did not have a particular plan, idea or concept. They allowed the fabric to carry them away. They gave the material the liberty to lead the way, not the other way round as it is in traditional art making. As they worked along, one would somehow be reminded of abstract expressionist painter Jackson Pollock.   

Then again, one would wonder; but what exactly is the purpose of such art? How will the artist make a living out of such ‘madness’? When she began her facilitation, Greising explained to participants that they were about to start making the kind of art that no one will be willing to buy. It is an art made for personal gratification and visual expression. After all, the artworks are usually temporary, challenging the conventional notion of art being made to be kept for long, if not permanently. The artworks, really, looked awesome in all their colour intensity and haphazardness. But the pieces would be there for only a short while – like a temporary high one derives from drugs.   

Saxophonist Branford Marsalis once said in an interview, “I don’t care who likes it or buys it. Because if you use that criterion, Mozart would have never written Don Giovanni, Charlie Parker never would have played anything but swing music. There comes a point at which you have to stand up and say, this is what I have to do. 

The artworks, after all, are highly welcoming to the viewers. They allow viewers to walks around and within them, to touch and feel them and experience that which the artist possibly experienced.

“The transition from internal to external facilitates a different way of moving through the art viewing space. The viewer has both the experience of being a part of the piece and being a viewer of the piece,” said Greising. At the end of it all, Batswana artists went back skilled in a new, revolutionary form of expression.