Art, Not Chance: Nine Artists' Diaries

by Paul Allen, ed. Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, London, UK, 2001.
120 pp., illus. Paper. ISBN: 0-903319-94-2.

Reviewed by Rob Harle (Australia)

recluse@lis.net.au

This book has grown out of the Gulbenkian Foundation’s grant programme, "Time To Experiment". The foundation believes that the arts must have research and development periods similar to that required in science and industry (p. 1). In other words, artists need time to experiment and test new concepts free from the constraints of exhibition, performance or publication deadlines. I think this approach towards the arts is to be congratulated and the end result, as the book’s foreword suggests, will benefit not only artists but funding bodies, politicians and box-office managers.

Nine artists were approached to keep a diary of their activities for roughly six months. These diary entries would be published and hopefully give an in-depth, illuminating insight into artistic practice. The artists selected were all established, qualified and highly regarded in their respective fields.

The artistic disciplines included; musician, writer, performance artist, poet, choreographer, playwright, composer, theatre director and sculptor. So far so good.

I dived into this book with my usual unbridled enthusiasm, especially when the work promises to be inspiring. And let’s face it, we all like to get a glimpse of the thought processes and snippets of the private lives of others. That’s what diaries are generally about — or at least should be.

Diary entries are private concerns, that’s why they put locks on diaries and people hide them under the bed and in other secure places to keep them from prying eyes. Consequently the entries are spontaneous, perhaps emotional, cathartic or at least psychoanalytical in a solipsistic sense. Even personal letters to another individual, a lover for example, have similar traits and function. Not long ago I read a fascinating little book, Savage Messiah by H.S. Ede, the personal letters of Henri Gaudier to Sophie Brzeska. Whilst some of these are pessimistic and express hopelessness, they are at least genuine. That is, they are not contrived and shallow, nor do they smack of artifice, which the entries in Art, Not Chance mostly do.

One wonders why theatre director, Tim Supple (one of the artists approached for the project) agreed to have his words published when he prefaces his diary entry with, "To record my experience as it happens is anathema. Nevertheless, I will attempt a diary, underwritten by the security of knowing I may never ‘hand it in’ (p. 92) [my emphasis].

Some entries simply describe, in detail (ad nauseum) the work the artist was engaged in at the time — not so much the processes involved or specific artistic challenges they faced. Those that didn’t get into these details got into the boring, irrelevant minutiae of their personal hygiene. Words and phrases such as; "Depressed", "Depressed and in limbo", "got the flu", "in pain", "struck down with despair" litter these pseudo-diary entries and mar what could have been a worthwhile window into artistic work practice.

Siân Ede in the foreword states, "We hope that this book will reach different audiences with different expectations. It will be of particular interest to those who are involved in educating and training would be artists;" (p. 3).

So, on the positive side the entries did highlight that artists have a desperate need for research and development time. Also, that training of practical/studio artists (especially at university level), must incorporate practical skills such as; studio management, contracts and law, financial management skills and health & safety issues. If artists were taught these skills their art would benefit because they would have more time and be under less stress when actually ‘creating’. They would not be overwhelmed by the essential and often tedious ‘non creative parts’ of the ‘whole’ artistic process of which they are largely ignorant or perhaps choose not to consciously acknowledge.

My expectations were flattened and not being an educator of artists I found the book both boring and depressing.