Feelings

[Werner Stuerenburg <ws@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Well, in my experience, it varies. When I was young, I
was very hurt when people talked about my stuff. In
consequence, I didn't show for years.

OTOH, I didn't know what to think of my work myself. Now
that 30 years have passed, I am amazed what I did back
then. I don't understand it even after that long a time,
but appreciation has risen ever since, adn that is
remarkable and unexpected.

In the beginning, I destroyed some stuff. I regret that
very much today. Some paintings were destroyed the
etching style, crossing the picture. That's ok, they
still exist.

They may not be that great, true, but who cares? I do,
and to me, it is marvelous. You all experience the
appreciation people bring to the least scratch of
masters like Picasso. 

He is a good example. Nobody will deny that much of his
work, even until high age, is not that great, but that
is essentially unimportant. One of our masters of
literature, Arno Schmidt, once said something like that,
and this was meant to hold for the masters only, with
which he himself declared to be on even terms with them,
of course.

I don't agree. Those great masters are masters all
right. But they are just a person like you and me as
well. And I myself esteem my work as important as
anybogy else's. It is my right to do so, and I am happy
with it.

I had ample opportunity to come to that conclusion. I
started as a mathematician, became teacher, then full
time painter with first exhibition in a museum - which
helped me a lot to cope with low self esteem during bad
times.

But then, it was more or less by accident that I had
this chance. The outcome was pretty negative, too. The
public didn't like it, I had radio and press interviews
and TV shows, but things were forgotten the other day.

There were more and more private buyers, that's true,
but not enough. I demanded to have a familiy, and was
happy to be able to work full time, but finally I
resigned. Ends did not meet. Work meant cost in the
first place.

I am unsure all the time if my decision to quit painting
and sculpting was right, but life went on. Was it good
to spoil my talent with computer / marketing stuff? I
don't know.

All the time I thought about the reasons I was
unsuccessful. But was I really?

People who bought works from me (I sold about 100)
proved that they appreciated my work by giving money.
But I lost sight of most of them, and this was and still
is hard for me to bear. When I see one of my works with
them, I hardly dare to to ask about *their* feelings
with my works.

But when I do, I always here that they still love it.
They live with it and would never think about parting.
Their feelings get stronger, pretty much like mine. But
it is not my feelings that they have. They have their
own, and their own history with the works.

A couple of years ago, I made a second try and wrote
about some of those experiences with the idea to show
people a way to art appreciation and eventually to buy
it. This attempt failed, too. But the outcome is still
available, online - hail to the internet! Everybody can
show what they want - and all can choose not to look at
it.

A few weeks ago, I had an interesting experience with
myself. I met a wealthy man, a friend and buyer, who
lent me money for a software project which failed
tragically so I couldn't pay back. I knew, or at least
thought so, that he didn't appreciate my work. 

When he was divorced, his former wife took the large
painting with her, and he began to buy lots of paintings
 from another artist, which I could pretty well see
spread all over his office. I didn't appreciate this
stuff at all.

Last year, to his 50th birthday, I gave him a large
water color woodcut of mine (I couldn't see him at the
time). He didn't frame it, which I didn't wonder about.
I expected it.

So this time, I gave him a small woodcut only,
accompanied with an electronic puzzle version of that
thing. I didn't want to comment anything. But I felt I
should say something about my debt.

Well, he didn't need the money, but he knew that I would
want to pay it back anyway, so he made a proposal. He
wanted to buy and thus compensate with one of my large
sculptures for his new office and home which he had seen
at least 15 years ago in my studio.

Instead of being happy both as an artist and as debitor,
I immediately refused his proposal. Now this was really
interesting. Why did I do that?

I guess I don't want to part from my works myself. Most
are unique pieces, and although I can't see them anyway
as I don't have enough space to show, I am jealous for
them.

I found a way out of this dilemma. I proposed that we
choose a large head and make 2 bronze copies - one for
him and one for me. And I didn't want to compensate my
debt with it. I just wanted him to pay the cost for both
casts. Mind that!

Take it this way: we are all human beings. I myself live
in a stock room at the least possible level for quite
some time now, my art work all stuffed around me, but no
wall to hang a thing, sculptures crammed together in
shelves. 

But when I looked around that rich man's living room, at
his books, his music, his paintings, I saw that this is
not my world. I would not like to be him.

And when I listen to the radio, I wonder how people can
bear that awful stuff, and they do it voluntarily. So I
listen to classic music and jazz, when I do, but most is
not interesting to me.

Very seldom I hear stuff that's really great in my ears.
And most often it is the artist who is great so that the
music s/he plays is great, too, whatever they choose.
But then again, who cares? Most do not, but I do, and
they do. And they will never know that I do.

A couple of years ago, I started composing on the
computer. I made 6 pieces, 30 minutes in all. Again the
same experience. I didn't have the time and energy to do
more, but time enough to listen and judge. Was that just
private play, as unimportant as children's artwork?

I take that question really seriously. After all, we see
that phenomenon all around us daily, and the more so the
easier it is to publish - on the net. Who am I to
pretend that I am the great artist? That's hype at best,
and who needs that? There is no satisfaction in lying to
yourself.

But I can't dey it: to me, that stuff is absolutely
great. I don't understand how I could ever make it. If I
compare that music to what I hear on the radio - forget
about that.

I gave this music to very few people only. My wife and
children never cared to listen to it. Those who got
copies, never said a word about it to me. Most probably,
they were disgusted. 

That's all right with me. This music is absolutely
great, if anybody knows or not, I know it. And from time
to time, I listen to it and wonder how great that is and
how I ever came to make it. I don't even consider myself
a musician. Absolutely puzzling.

Of course, I did lots of things all my life. As long as
I remember, I worked 7 days a week 14 hours a day -
except when the kids were small. All this work left no
trace. It helped make a living, that's all.

This is not quite true. When I was a teacher, I
impressed some pupils, which is what I had experienced
myself when I was young. But this isn't important to me
at all. Hence I am not a teacher. I am an artist.

As an artist - is it important how many things you make?
Probably not. That you make a living of it? Probably
not. That other people esteem what you do? Probably not.

But it is absolutely important that you esteem your
work, that you feel happy with it. You don't have to
understand it - it must enhance your life. We humans
beings need that more or less, and this is the reason
non-artists envy the artists.

Picasso at old age once said something like "after all,
what is a painter? A collector who cannot afford the
paintings he wants to own, so he starts painting them
himself." And "I try to paint like van Gogh or Goya and
it always becomes a Picasso in the end."

You understand why he didn't sell quite a number of his
own works? He even bought some back.

A famous example is "the dance", now in London, Tate
Gallery. When he could get it back, it had a large
scratch right in the middle, and he did not repair it in
all those years (I guess he owned it in that condition
for about 40 years).

Now it is in London and I wonder if those museum
curators decided to restore it. He respected even the
life and fate of his works.

And he needed the time to live with them, to feel what
they meant to his life. I don't think this can ever be
expressed in any other medium. Every thing is what it
is, and it has it's own value. And the feeling will
change. If it gets deeper, that's good. 

BTW: Thanks for raising the question, Arthur. Normally,
I don't even skim the subjects, but somehow I stumpled
upon the answer of Tom today. And I felt I had something
to say here.

Mit freundlichem Gruss
Dr. Werner Stuerenburg

ISIS Verlag, Teut 3, D-32683 Barntrup-Alverdissen
Tel 0(049) 5224-997 407 · Fax 0(049) 5224-997 409
http://pferdezeitung.de    http://art-quarter.com