Art critic Ken Johnson recently wrote in a New York Times review of a Drawing Center exhibition: “Academic art historians and critics still tend to discourage talking seriously about the spiritual in art. But considering how many artists continue to be motivated by spiritual urges, however the word spiritual is defined -- this is something worth discussing.”
Exit Art has had the courage and conviction to not just talk about it, but to encourage, examine, and exhibit it. The visionary nature of prayingproject has inspired me to see my work in new contexts: performance, documentation and collaboration. More than a week later I am still held in its ecstatic embrace. The three days we spent together in art prayer was transformative, transcendent.
I am not sure that I have ever in my life, anywhere at any time, felt so well cared for, so validated as an artist and human being, so included in every way. Our human frailty may cause us to always feel somewhat apart, outside, not quite divine and whole, but for three days I felt connected and complete, sure that I was exactly where I was supposed to be in the moment and in my life’s trajectory.
My gratitude and love to every nook and cranny of that sacred space created in Exit Art, by every one: artists, interns, curators, founders, and all who walked past those windows and entered the doors.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Friday, April 22, 2005
energy building
It's a full week since prayingproject began, a work-week since it ended, and the energy is still building. Exit Art put up a slide show on the site today -- just scroll down til you see prayingproject on the lower right hand side, click and enjoy. It's an amazing record of the three days we spent together in art prayer. Intimate, and all inclusive, a virtual experience for those who weren't able to attend, and a moving celebration and connection for those of us who were involved.
I haven't felt this alive since going for my black belt a year ago. A huge personal milestone; physical, spiritual and emotional challenge. But this feels more momentous. Karate keeps my blood pumping. Making art is my blood. So to feel so connected to an idea, and through that idea, to all the individuals who made it happen, is a different type of life-affirming experience.
I remember leaving the last day of the karate promotion, the fight day, completely exhausted and elated at having survived, limping and sore, feeling extremely connected to myself. And also, typical of big event days, a bit let down that it was over.
Though Prayingproject is phyically over, it doesn't feel ended. It feels still within me, and I feel connected to something greater than myself. Something that will continue transforming me in ways I can't yet forsee.
I haven't felt this alive since going for my black belt a year ago. A huge personal milestone; physical, spiritual and emotional challenge. But this feels more momentous. Karate keeps my blood pumping. Making art is my blood. So to feel so connected to an idea, and through that idea, to all the individuals who made it happen, is a different type of life-affirming experience.
I remember leaving the last day of the karate promotion, the fight day, completely exhausted and elated at having survived, limping and sore, feeling extremely connected to myself. And also, typical of big event days, a bit let down that it was over.
Though Prayingproject is phyically over, it doesn't feel ended. It feels still within me, and I feel connected to something greater than myself. Something that will continue transforming me in ways I can't yet forsee.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
more prayingproject
As I usually note when blogging, it is so difficult to quickly compress an experience into these posts. There is so little time in life to process -- we're on to the next thing in a blink.
And so it was with prayingproject. For three days we were in what now seems a bubble away from the world. Contained in picture windows where the outside world looked in on us, we were protected from the profanity of life and yet part of its fabric. The pane of glass between us and the world provided a kind of safety. And yet there was an aspect of voyerism. Many visitors entered the gallery, walked around, sneaked up close behind us for an intimate view, peeked around corners.
And in the sacred space we held, life did unfold within and without us. As I noted in an earlier post, the personal experience was challenging, and metaphorical for the spiritual journey.
Most of us experienced some kind of pain on Saturday: emotional, physical, psychological difficulties with the process and the performances. Friday had been fresh with the promise of possibility. Sunday was transcendent.
Everyone at Exit Art took such good care of us. It was a 3 day embrace. Interns picking up our props and putting them on stage for us, sharing with us their personal experiences of our work. Camilla, assistant curator, continuously asking if we were alright, if there was anything we needed, calmly keeping us on schedule, leading the way, finding us an extra performance in the constantly evolving line up. And finding the time amidst the frenzy to actually watch the performances. Exit Art founders, Colo and Jeanette, the visionaries, documenting the days, giving us thumbs up, looking like proud god/goddess parents the entire time. Toby, the gallery manager, videotaping and interviewing us. Ifema live-streaming us to the universe.
The performances came to a crescendo on Sunday night, then the artists and their mates were treated to a fabulous Indian feast at tables running the entire length of the huge gallery space -- and handmade matzo from Brooklyn.
More reflections and photos to come. Stay tuned. Also coming up - info on two benefit fund-raisers: Exit Art and The Matzo Files.
And so it was with prayingproject. For three days we were in what now seems a bubble away from the world. Contained in picture windows where the outside world looked in on us, we were protected from the profanity of life and yet part of its fabric. The pane of glass between us and the world provided a kind of safety. And yet there was an aspect of voyerism. Many visitors entered the gallery, walked around, sneaked up close behind us for an intimate view, peeked around corners.
And in the sacred space we held, life did unfold within and without us. As I noted in an earlier post, the personal experience was challenging, and metaphorical for the spiritual journey.
Most of us experienced some kind of pain on Saturday: emotional, physical, psychological difficulties with the process and the performances. Friday had been fresh with the promise of possibility. Sunday was transcendent.
Everyone at Exit Art took such good care of us. It was a 3 day embrace. Interns picking up our props and putting them on stage for us, sharing with us their personal experiences of our work. Camilla, assistant curator, continuously asking if we were alright, if there was anything we needed, calmly keeping us on schedule, leading the way, finding us an extra performance in the constantly evolving line up. And finding the time amidst the frenzy to actually watch the performances. Exit Art founders, Colo and Jeanette, the visionaries, documenting the days, giving us thumbs up, looking like proud god/goddess parents the entire time. Toby, the gallery manager, videotaping and interviewing us. Ifema live-streaming us to the universe.
The performances came to a crescendo on Sunday night, then the artists and their mates were treated to a fabulous Indian feast at tables running the entire length of the huge gallery space -- and handmade matzo from Brooklyn.
More reflections and photos to come. Stay tuned. Also coming up - info on two benefit fund-raisers: Exit Art and The Matzo Files.
Monday, April 18, 2005
About me (Medicine)
MBBS (IMU), MRCP (UK), MRCP (London)
Specialty Certificate in Nephrology (Royal College of Physicians, UK)
Academy of Medicine (M'sia)
Singapore Society of Nephrology
Singapore Society of Transplantation
Nexus Medical Advisory Board Member
Publication:
1. Kian-Guan Lee, Indralingam Vaithilingam. Bilateral optic neuropathy - a rare uraemic manifestation of end-stage renal disease. NDT
Sunday, April 17, 2005
About me (Magic)
Need some magical elements in your events?
Darren is one of the most sought-after walkabout/ close-up magicians in town performing in major functions, never fails to amaze people with his elegant/ stylish sleight of hand and mesmerizing card magic. It will definitely be an entertaining and fascinating experience with his presence in your events.
Experienced in corporate events, launching
prayingproject at exit art
It's Sunday morning, and the last day of prayingproject. I've been too exhausted to blog it, but a wonderful, exiting exhausted. For live streaming during the performances from 3pm to 9pm EST, follow the prayingproject link above.
The range of artists and performances is amazing. Pasha is reciting esoteric chants with pig fat in his mouth. Annie is knitting fishing line, sitting on a swing, looking like an angel about to rise into the ethers. Sara is in the process of 100,000 prostrations to Lama Surya Das, his teachers, all the dieties, the cosmos. There are kama sutra performances, a sound, light, water happening, a typewritting mantra and more.
The project itself has been an enlightening experience. It had never occured to me that my contemplative Bead Meditation might be smack in the middle of a cacaphony of more physical and loud praying. The gallery, which is a huge warehouse space, becomes a marketplace of prayer filling with the many layered sounds of spiritual expression. From a crazy sled riding installation which is a part of The Other America exhibition, to the clanking of bell and wood in See-saw, a zen walking meditation.
At first distracting, the noise becomes a rhythmic chant which rises and falls throughout the day, reaching dramatic crescendos and quieter murmurs like crickets chirping. At times one feels completely connected and in the chant; at others, oddly out of step, out of time.
As with any meditation, there is struggle with monkey mind, and body screams. Yesterday I was in agony pretty much all day with a backache. The happy result was to transform the performance in a small way, by beginning to stand while stringing the beads rather than remaining seated. Adversity always transforms.
Today, I'm going to get to a yoga class before heading over to exit art, and may ask if there is a sculpture stand that I can use to turn the entire performance into a standing one. Or at least have the option of standing or sitting.
More about prayingproject to come.
The range of artists and performances is amazing. Pasha is reciting esoteric chants with pig fat in his mouth. Annie is knitting fishing line, sitting on a swing, looking like an angel about to rise into the ethers. Sara is in the process of 100,000 prostrations to Lama Surya Das, his teachers, all the dieties, the cosmos. There are kama sutra performances, a sound, light, water happening, a typewritting mantra and more.
The project itself has been an enlightening experience. It had never occured to me that my contemplative Bead Meditation might be smack in the middle of a cacaphony of more physical and loud praying. The gallery, which is a huge warehouse space, becomes a marketplace of prayer filling with the many layered sounds of spiritual expression. From a crazy sled riding installation which is a part of The Other America exhibition, to the clanking of bell and wood in See-saw, a zen walking meditation.
At first distracting, the noise becomes a rhythmic chant which rises and falls throughout the day, reaching dramatic crescendos and quieter murmurs like crickets chirping. At times one feels completely connected and in the chant; at others, oddly out of step, out of time.
As with any meditation, there is struggle with monkey mind, and body screams. Yesterday I was in agony pretty much all day with a backache. The happy result was to transform the performance in a small way, by beginning to stand while stringing the beads rather than remaining seated. Adversity always transforms.
Today, I'm going to get to a yoga class before heading over to exit art, and may ask if there is a sculpture stand that I can use to turn the entire performance into a standing one. Or at least have the option of standing or sitting.
More about prayingproject to come.
Wednesday, April 6, 2005
some months are easier to blog than others
I've actually managed to squeeze more art into the last month than usual, or so it seems, but blogging about it is a different story. Today is catch up. On art and life.
Ashes and Snow is a must see. Beautiful, contemplative and inspirational. I don't know what the current trend for art-hate is all about. Apparently the NYTimes panned the exhibition as have a few blogs I've read. Since Christo and The Gates, everyone seems to be in this negative art mind. Could it be that beauty just makes those who feel ugly inside angrier? I want to run around and shake these critics awake and alive. It's inconcievable to me that they aren't touched on a deep human level by the very work that they judge so harshly. Or could it simply be that they've forgotten where art comes from? They need a quick read of some Helen Dissanayake (What is Art For?).
The Drawing Center's current exhibition is another spiritual foray into art. After walking through the exhibition feeling nearer to the divine than is usual at lunchtime, I sat to read about Emma Kunz, whose work was most meaningful to me. I noticed at once that the drawings were mandala like, although not circular, and in fact she used them for intutitive healing sessions. She predicted the Kennedy assasinations among other events, and was interrupted from an art making session with huge dread, having been overcome by awareness of a powerful terrible force which turned out to be the Atom bomb.
At the Museum of Arts and Design, I discovered Ruth Duckworth. Normally, those looped videos running in a side room are not so compelling, but listening and watching this diminutive woman whose work ranges from small exquisite stoneware and porcelain sculpture to huge complex murals, was life giving.
The experience that will live on with me however, was that of the docent desperately lassoing in whatever gallery viewers she could. Clearly, she was very knowledgeable about the work, but she presented it as if she were a stern grammar school teacher. She seemed the antithesis of the work itself, which is highly organic, multi-cultural. I was afraid she might whip a ruler out of a hidden pocket in her dress and rap us all on the knuckles for simply being.
On a personal note of where spirit, art and abundance meet: I had the amazing fortune this week of finally getting something I both want and deserve. A three day work week. Which means more time for art making and art seeing. I share my good news with you as inspiration, prayer and blessing. May the days ahead bring you what you have been searching, dreaming and working for.
Ashes and Snow is a must see. Beautiful, contemplative and inspirational. I don't know what the current trend for art-hate is all about. Apparently the NYTimes panned the exhibition as have a few blogs I've read. Since Christo and The Gates, everyone seems to be in this negative art mind. Could it be that beauty just makes those who feel ugly inside angrier? I want to run around and shake these critics awake and alive. It's inconcievable to me that they aren't touched on a deep human level by the very work that they judge so harshly. Or could it simply be that they've forgotten where art comes from? They need a quick read of some Helen Dissanayake (What is Art For?).
The Drawing Center's current exhibition is another spiritual foray into art. After walking through the exhibition feeling nearer to the divine than is usual at lunchtime, I sat to read about Emma Kunz, whose work was most meaningful to me. I noticed at once that the drawings were mandala like, although not circular, and in fact she used them for intutitive healing sessions. She predicted the Kennedy assasinations among other events, and was interrupted from an art making session with huge dread, having been overcome by awareness of a powerful terrible force which turned out to be the Atom bomb.
At the Museum of Arts and Design, I discovered Ruth Duckworth. Normally, those looped videos running in a side room are not so compelling, but listening and watching this diminutive woman whose work ranges from small exquisite stoneware and porcelain sculpture to huge complex murals, was life giving.
The experience that will live on with me however, was that of the docent desperately lassoing in whatever gallery viewers she could. Clearly, she was very knowledgeable about the work, but she presented it as if she were a stern grammar school teacher. She seemed the antithesis of the work itself, which is highly organic, multi-cultural. I was afraid she might whip a ruler out of a hidden pocket in her dress and rap us all on the knuckles for simply being.
On a personal note of where spirit, art and abundance meet: I had the amazing fortune this week of finally getting something I both want and deserve. A three day work week. Which means more time for art making and art seeing. I share my good news with you as inspiration, prayer and blessing. May the days ahead bring you what you have been searching, dreaming and working for.
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