Six artists stand violently illuminated on a platform in the middle of a large theatre.
While they stand face to face their canvases, pregnant with anticipation, stand militantly back to back. Palettes are at the ready, thick with Everest-sized globs of paint. The heat is sweltering. The crowd is tense. A countdown is shouted throughout the room, and at the utterance of “one,” a small hell breaks loose.
Canvases are flipped. Brushes are dipped manically into colour before soaring into strokes and jabs. Decisions are made. This feverish pace will continue for 20 minutes straight.
In stark contrast to the fever dream that is happening on stage, the crowd slowly churns like a tepid tornado around the madness, sluggishly struggling to glimpse the art evolving on stage. When time runs out, brushes once again become static and the audience, passive until this point, votes on a winner from the batch of just-birthed art works.
“More than anything, it reminded me of a circus.”
My friends and I are slowly wading through our thoughts about last night’s Art Battle, the live, cross-Canada painting competition which pits local artists against one another as they attempt to create a painting in 20 minutes or less.
At first glance my friend’s circus assertion is fairly apt—Art Battle is a large, loud, fast, confusing extravaganza whose main product is entertainment for the whole family. Spectacle over substance, you could say. There is another way it is similar to a Ringling Brothers act, as well—I’ve only been once and I don’t think I enjoyed it.
Like all great relationships, the one I have with art is complicated, intricate, and forever evolving and maturing.
At this moment, I can say that great art for me (or rather, what makes a work of art ‘good’) is whether it is able to make you feel something so personal and unique that language fails and verbal description is near impossible.
As well, I have come to believe there is no point in creating a pretty picture for the sake of creating a pretty picture.
Art that doesn’t make me think or feel bores me, and I believe in order to convey these elusive things to an audience, an artist must think and feel the art piece in question for an extended period of time. Of course, this is near impossible in 20 minutes, surrounded by strangers. For me, art needs competition like a fish needs a bicycle.
If I sound jaded and stubborn, it’s because I am. While writing this I realized that my problem with Art Battle was me. Perhaps the end of semester grind is to blame, but I couldn’t step out of my academic, overly analytical bubble long enough to enjoy myself.
My (far more pleasant, easy going) friends had a fantastic time. I begged them to come so I could try to understand Art Battle from the perspective of the average 20-something who needs something to do on a Saturday night and is mildly receptive, but not obsessive, about art.
The final verdict—Art Battle is pretty cool.
While I was busy worrying about what does and should constitute a good work of art within this specific context, my friends were simply observing the (compressed) creative process and thinking about what art they liked and what art they didn’t.
The beer was cheap, the crowd was sexy, the art was diverse. Canvases ranged from portraiture to figure studies to colour fields to gestural abstractions. It’s hard to be tough on an event that gives local artists recognition and makes people think about art.
So I won’t. Get over yourself and go to Art Battle sometime. You might just be entertained.
