Prompt 7: MY PSYCHIC ATLAS

Kerstin Bratsch is a New York and German based artist who works in painting, sculpture, installation, design and performance. Her practice is as much about making an exhibition - designing and installing an exhibition as a project -- as it is about creating individual works.

Bratsch received her MFA from Columbia in 2007. While at Columbia she wrote an artists statement titled "My Psychic Atlas" which probes and distills what is closest to her in her work - and asks the very tough question of herself in her practice - what is it that I really care about and commit myself to as an artist? 

Read Kerstin's Psychic Atlas here. 

For Prompt 7, write your own Psychic Atlas. This can be in list form, as Kerstin Bratsch did - or in paragraph form, or script, or whatever road the project takes you. The important thing to focus on is the question: between me and me, what is my work? 

Prompt #6

I'm sorry this is late--I had to wait for my friend to send me these files and he took longer than planned!

First and foremost, as you know, I am a visual thinker. Music doesn't make much sense to me. A completely invisible world of senses? How is that possible??? I talk about this a lot with one of my best friends, who is an acoustic thinker. The comments he makes about the way things sound are always so surprising and funny to me because if he hadn't have been there, I would have missed it. For example, one time we were cooking and when I dropped the fish on the pan, he said, "That sound is so hot." It was literally hot, but so not hot, i.e. very unattractive. Even though it's loud, I can't see it, so I don't notice it.

The first song is an unfinished piece he wrote based on journeys he and I have had together. What's crazy is that, because I know what he's referencing, I can understand the sound. When I listen to this song, my brain shuts off and I begin re-experiencing memories that I have stored in my mind's eye. When I say that my brain shuts off, I mean that I stop seeing. This is hard to articulate. I can't focus on anything--if someone were to wave their hand in front of my face I probably wouldn't notice. It feels like my brain is shutting off because I am normally so dependent on seeing. Try to listen to the song loud on high-quality speakers; you'll "see" how it makes your brain feel like it's melting. I really do think my friend is a genius.

The other song is something he sent me by accident when he was trying to send me the correct file twenty-two minutes ago, but it has a similar effect.

Find songs on SoundCloud

Prompt #6: When there is nothing to see, you look.

We often tend to take things for granted. Even the very environment that surrounds us is not something unusual. Our eyes swiftly move around, seeking to sense something sensational or outstanding; yet, by doing so, it is easy to miss the great detail that exists around us. For instance, I looked around my room, searching for something new. To my disappointment, there was nothing that captured my eye, or even moved my heart. At that moment, I decided to stop seeing, and to "look" at a particular thing. A silver lightbulb, which was illuminating with bright, shining light, was standing solidly on a desk. It did not move, yet this very stillness captured my attention; it was shining by itself, spreading light all around the room. Then, I looked at the window behind. The white, linear quality of the window was fresh and fascinating. There was great simplicity with the strictly linear lines of the window. I realized, that when I see something, I miss the hidden meaningful, interesting feature of the detail. When I look, there is a panorama of depth and excitement,

Prompt 6

When there is nothing to see....

In my sculpture 1 class with Jon Kessler--which is awesome, by the way--we did a class exercise where we had to face a blank white wall and choreograph some sort of expressive sequence of five movements that somehow involved the wall.  So as I stared at this blank wall I began to project own emotions and thoughts onto it.  I thought about my relationships with my loved ones, in particular.  I started punching, pushing and then caressing the wall.  We were told to repeat the sequence of movements on a loop until the exercise was over.  It was incredibly emotional, something I didn't expect when I was first told by the T.A. leading the exercise to dance with a blank wall. 

So, if we consider this wall to be "nothing," then in a certain way it has the potential to be everything. 

 After repeating my sequence of movements over and over again, I finally had some feeling of catharsis, though I was left with even more thoughts and and emotional hangover after the exercise.
At some point I began to appreciate the texture of the wall, the way light was refracted off of the uneven surface.  This sparked my imagination a bit.  I started imagining moon craters and interesting patterns.  Kind of reminded me of one of those Lee Bontecou sculptures.  All of a sudden the wall had new meaning.

I think this way of seeing objects that are usually overlooked can apply to anything.  It's a way of seeing beauty in the world, in the tiniest details.  I'm going to try to get into the habit of doing this more often.  I remember coming home recently after a sort of crappy, down day.  I stopped midway up the staircase to the first floor and just sat for a while.  I noticed a small L-shaped metal support piece on the bottom of the staircase railing.  It was an emotional moment; I had never, ever noticed this one detail.  I imagine that most people hadn't.  Why would they? But the shadows and reflections on this little supporting piece, the way the light bounced off of it, the way that it hid halfway in the darkness of the shadow of the railing was so beautiful.  It spurred all sorts of thoughts and emotions in me.  To think that that sort of beauty is everywhere, even in what me might call "nothing" is inspiring. 

So I guess that that's the kind of stuff I see when I'm looking at nothing.

Prompt 6

My immediate response to the prompt was an internal transportation to the realm of my childhood where my mom was convinced my brother and I had no sense of "wow." The first time I had been scolded in this way occurred while we were scaling a steep slope during a trip to Aspen for a wedding. It was summer and I had been dragged from my luxurious routine of nothingness and swim team practice. I was entirely incapable of appreciating the natural beauty of my surroundings 1) because I defiantly didn't want to, I was being forced to hike against my will, and  2) I had not yet in my life spent a great deal of time divorced from nature (which impacts the way I appreciate it now). Whenever my brother and I "failed" to value our surroundings in some way, this phrase was invoked and our eye rolls loyally followed. 

Seeing and wanting or desire are so profoundly connected. You can "see the world in a grain of sand," as William Blake writes, or you can see a speck of the earth as insignificant as the plastic bag in the bin (which, conversely, to someone else, is worthy of prize). You can see the beauty of a natural aspen landscape, or the mountains can taunt you and your lack of free will, exaggerating the small beads of sweat that have unfortunately begun to fall from exercise. 

I am particularly fond of the quote because there is the obvious implication that there's always something to see, it's just a matter of looking. The verb "to look" lacks the thoughtful connotation that charges "to see." If a person is open to the possibility of seeing, the only necessary avenue is the eye. I think it is in large part from the desire to see that I decided to both take a year off from school and transfer. I felt that too much time had been spent with my head down, or in a cubicle... the classroom can be stifling. So, I hopped off the academic treadmill and embraced new environments, and continue to do so with renewed vigor. 

My personal reality has become one where there is always something to see, always something to learn, aways something to be valued (or deemed invaluable.. which is also a worthy appraisal for the self). My tendency to return to social media commentary is becoming tiresome, however, I do think that instagram can be viewed positively in regard to appreciation of what was already there. Though enhancement is a defining feature, I would venture to say that there is the possibility that before, people didn't realize the artistry of their breakfast or the way the light catches a particularly imposing office building. Maybe people are more in tune to their environment, seeking to be captured by what is already there and has always been there, but not noticed. This appraisal ignores so many other aspects of this "seeking," but I want to keep maintain my positive characterization. 

This post is a ramble, but I will follow up with some visuals! 

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