I sit down with Los Angeles based artist, Shane Guffogg to discuss what spirituality means to him. It’s my seventh essay with the artist and second on this topic.
Shane Guffogg - Art and Spirituality Part 2
A question I have been asking myself, as of late, is, What is spirituality? And how does an artist define this through his/her work? My questions often lead me to do research, in hopes of finding an answer. My latest questioning landed me in the Age of Enlightenment, but I needed to learn what came before, and what was the impetus? This took me back hundreds of years, to an era that was the opposite of illumination. In the dark ages of medieval art, reading was forbidden by the churches. This was done so they could control what information reached the masses. Instead of words, they used images, i.e., art. Guilds were imposed to create imagery that would teach the viewer what to think and how to feel. This era was followed by the Renaissance period, that spanned the 14th through the 17th centuries. The word renaissance is derived from the French word, meaning rebirth. I asked Guffogg about his thoughts on that period and why it happened, and he quickly pointed to the Catholic Cardinal, Ficino. The Cardinal was able to read and write ancient Greek. Ficino also translated Plato’s writings from nearly 2000 years before the Renaissance. Plato talked about love, not just as being physical but also spiritual, hence the term, Platonic love. Both Leonardo and Michelangelo had copies of Plato’s book on love, called De Amori. What followed the renaissance was “The Age of Enlightenment.” It was a period in Europe in the 18th century when many writers and thinkers began questioning established beliefs that were being dictated through the authority of kings or the church – what they were seeking was reason and scientific proof.
As leader of the Platonic Academy in Florence, Marsilio Ficino was teacher and guide to a remarkable circle of men. He inspired leading statesmen, scholars and churchmen throughout Europe, who traveled to meet him or conducted an extensive correspondence with him. The ideas they discussed appeared again and again and in the works of literature and art that followed: in Spenser, Shakespeare and Donne, in Botticelli, Michelangelo, Raphael, Durer and many more.
Ficino’s book that inspired many.
Leonardo da Vinci, The Virgin, and Child with Saint Anne
1510, oil on panel, 168 cm x 112 cm
Musée du Louvre, Paris
This created a psychological expansion that opened the mind to explore greater possibilities. William Blake, the 17th-century poet, printmaker, and painter, was often inspired by these new ideas and this open forum of intellectualism, guided him, taking spirituality to the next level, which was also based on the social and political world he inhabited in London. Today, when one envisions the spiritual, an abstract painting may not be the first thing that comes to mind. Mark Rothko, (1903 – 1970) who chose not to adhere to any art movement, gave us great examples of spirituality through his timeless paintings of “pure color for pure emotions“, as he liked to say. Rothko’s art moves beyond the typical mode of visual communication, and we are transported with it. The abstract movement is still going strong, but what I often see with other contemporary artists, is a focus on the negative, as a portrayal of violence. There seems to have been a downhill slide, forgetting to light the candle to the soul.
William Blake, The Ancient of Days
1794, watercolor, etching, 23.3 cm x w: 16.8 cm
British Museum
Mark Rothko, No. 61, (Rust and Blue)
1953, oil on canvas, 115 cm x 92 cm
Museum of Modern Art, Los Angeles, MOCA
Why has spirituality been forgotten? Another question I find myself asking! We are told by our governments that we are living better than ever and there have been major accomplishments in science and technology. This is the gloss exterior coating we are presented with. However, inside, it appears we are melting and the light within cannot be found. In our current state of affairs, we are fighting homelessness, opioid addiction, global warming and in some cities, extreme overpopulation. As we are now at the door of the Aquarian Age, I am secretly hoping there will be a shift. Or an angel will suddenly appear, passing me a note saying, “It’s all going to be okay.” But, I know that’s not going to happen. I am reminded by this, through the work of Jalal ad-Din Rumi, the 13th-century poet who proclaimed, “what you need is already deep within”, and I realize the only person that will save me, is me.
I know there are reasons for everything, as I work alongside Shane Guffogg in his Hollywood studio. I believe, he has tapped into something that will shake us up. I believe he will jog our memories and pull us out of the deep fog of dread and point us in the direction to where we need to go to survive this new wave of nihilism. He may not have all the answers, but he is willing to ask the questions and through his dedication to painting, he will observe and report his findings of the human condition to no end. As a viewer, I can learn a great deal from his process. It’s Monday, and I am in his studio, typing, looking, photographing his work, taking notes for an upcoming retrospective and I begin to contemplate the most recent paintings. I stare into the surrendering red and golden waves that inhabit, Amor Fati #8, created after Fredrich Nietzsche’s declaration, to embrace the beauty and a life that is fully ours; ‘love our fate.’ Another work, Evolution of the Mortal Soul, which is soft with varieties of ivory and muted grey tones, monochromatic in sound like a long open note, with lines that echo the stages of life. To the right, the deep cobalt and ultramarine blue painting that is punctuated with deep red reverberations, A Sainted Hunger. Suddenly, I am assured that Guffogg is an artist deeply entrenched in the gills of spirituality. With courage, I start a conversation and begin to ask him about what he thinks spirituality is. We talk for a while and I decide to tape record his thoughts so I can type them. It is clear the artist thinks a great deal about the subject and what it means to be alive.
Shane Guffogg, 2018, Amor Fati #8, oil on canvas, 39 1/2 40 1/2″
Shane Guffogg, 2018, Amor Fati #9, oil on canvas, 39 x 38″
Shane Guffogg, Evolution of a Mortal Soul
2015, oil on canvas, 4 panels sized, 40 x 72.5”
SG: “When I think of spirituality, or the word spiritual, I think of the abstract, and by that, I mean, things I cannot comprehend. No matter how hard I try, I cannot really comprehend that the universe is infinite. I understand what the word means, but, that comprehension doesn’t really allow my brain to fully realize the concept. And the reason for this inability to fully grasp this is because of my physical body. My body, with all of my five senses, is how I relate to and reason with my surroundings. And it is through my body that I collect data. My physical self cannot go beyond my natural time span. Though, I do think my mind can, or maybe I should say, the energy that runs my mind and body can, because, as science tells us, energy is a constant in the universe. So, I have concluded, what that means, is that my soul (energy) is a constant in the universe, that has manifested into this physical form I have now. My body will follow the laws of nature as they exist on this planet, meaning, that no matter how much I take good care of myself, my body will stop existing.
But my soul follows another paradigm, and I suppose that is where religion comes in, with the explanations and rituals to help contain and dilute the abstract and make it, somewhat digestible. Rituals are like the gutter guardrails at a bowling alley they put up when a young child is going to attempt to roll the ball down the lane. The guards come out to contain what will surely be a missed attempt. And who wants to spoil the excitement that a small child has when they see their hopeless, slow-motion ball, could actually knock down some pins? Rituals are the guard railings for people to keep them from going off course. Trying to comprehend the universe and time, or the absence of time is too much for the human mind. We have built-in guardrails or governors, that stop us from seeing and comprehending the infinite. I find myself (soul) butting up against my minds ability to truly go beyond the physical realm.
Hence, death and what happens to a person when they die is abstract. I have read many ancient scripts that discuss what happens when a person dies and speaks of an afterlife, and I am not sure which one to choose as being correct. Maybe they are all correct. But we believe what we need to believe to console and protect ourselves against the abstract – that indefinable thing that is bigger than we can comprehend. We get so caught up in our daily routines or, rituals, that we assume our immediate moment is what matters. And no doubt, on some level it does. But, why does it? How does a moment, anyone’s moment, compare with the infinite vastness of space with the billions of suns and trillions of planets, floating above our heads, as if placed there solely for our wonderment. What if our consciousness, our ability to see and contemplate those billions of stars in billions of galaxies, what if it is all one? What if our consciousness is a part of everything? How would we know? How would a person know what color their eyes are without being told, or, seeing a reflection of themselves? How would we know if our consciousness is really a part of a bigger whole? Our inability to understand is due to the limitations of our physicality.
When I think about what I am painting, I am thinking about the abstract. And the only way I know how to commune with the thing that is called spirituality, is to paint that which I cannot see, nor, understand, and, at best, only intuit. It is the only thing I can really do that allows me to step outside of myself, go beyond what I have been taught, go beyond the evidence I have thus far gathered, and see what the mind cannot really comprehend.”
Shane Guffogg – (Sept. 11, 2018 – Hollywood, California)
The artist writes almost as much as he paints, documenting his thoughts and taking notes on each painting he completes. Some of the greatest artists of our time wrote to help capture their thoughts, Guffogg continues this practice, as his writings reveal a great deal. It’s a question and answer thing, he once told me, – one has to ask the right questions in order to understand the answers, and writing helps you begin that exercise. Below is a journal entry about A Sainted Hunger, the painting is quite large (84 x 66”), oil on canvas. It consists of cobalt blue ribbons that cast upon an imagined ancient script – there are markings that appear to be a rhythm, which likens a deep trance – it’s hard to put into words, but I am left feeling I am in another time and place. Here is Guffogg’s journal entry dated 1998 when the work was finished.
SG: “The title of “A Sainted Hunger” was referencing my own hunger for understanding. I have been reading about ancient cultures since my teens, and always with the idea of learning about and understanding long-forgotten truths. The mysteries that shroud the ancient myths, as well as the buildings that have been left behind, have been a life-long curiosity, feeling as if there are missing pieces to the puzzle, and, the picture cannot be completed. In “A Sainted Hunger”, the ribbon motif is in full bloom. There are 5 sections of 3 rows of lights that go across horizontally. In each, there is an alizarin crimson dot that moves over the spot of light painted with Naples yellow. In the center of the painting, the crimson dot is perfectly aligned in front of the light, but as it moves, either to the left or right, it is displaced, appearing like a lunar eclipse. The 5 rows of 3 represent the 5 senses, the 3 rows represent my mother, father and myself. Traversing across the surface vertically are 5 rows of patterns, painted with cadmium reds. These patterns were made by folding a piece of paper multiple times, and then with a hole punch, punching out the image of the ribbons. When the paper is unfolded, the new shape and pattern appear, similar to how, as children, paper snowflakes are made in school. The red patterns demark the surface as if it is the closest part to the viewer. The idea of String Theory was, at the time, being spoken about in the science community and I saw this painting as something that was akin to the idea that thoughts and the energy they emit, create our reality. In this painting, the background, middle-ground, andforeground are all interacting, but also existing separately, as if each is on its own plane or dimension.”
(Shane Guffogg, 1998, Los Angeles, California)
Shane Guffogg, 1998, A Sainted Hunger, oil on canvas, 84 x 60″
He is detailed with his note-taking. Sometimes I wonder who is he writing to? It feels like he is writing to someone beyond the viewer. Is he writing to the cosmos? The words that come from his truest essence – first mumbled through breath, then lengthened by hand to pen and paper, which reveal something, or even, perhaps, may will the universe to listen? I asked him recently about that and he told me,
SG: “Sometimes, during the process of creating my paintings, I feel like I am having a conversation with the past and future, or maybe I should say an invisible audience.”
Really, I think he is re-grouping with the universe.
Still, he seeks answers. In 2017 he created a painting that was very different from ever before, it was open and quite large, the ribbons whisked about, blue tones mixed with flesh tones, all in his typical realist technique with abstraction as his subject matter. After months of working on it, he felt the painting was nearing completing, so I asked him, what was the title of the work? Sapere Aude he said, which is the Latin for ‘dare to know’ or ‘dare to be wise’. I did some research right away and found it was a topic that first showed up in 20 BCE by the Roman poet Horace. Later, Immanuel Kant wrote about it in his essay dated 1784, “Answering the Question: What is Enlightenment”. Guffogg began to tell me about the work and I went back to thinking he tapped on the door of Spirituality again.
Shane Guffogg, two Sapere Aude paintings, (in progress), oil on canvas, 84 x 60″
with Ritornau Dal Domani, (Amethyst), 2016, Murano glass, edition 3 +1, AP, 32 x 12 x 12″
SG: “Like the painting, The Observer is the Observed, this series is also based on light, which is coming from the viewer, I wanted to continue with that idea, but these paintings are different – I was seeing them as the body of enlightenment, that is physically forming or manifesting. I started reading about the history of enlightenment, and based on that history, it made a lot of sense given what is going on in our world right now, and the attempt to stop the truth, to stop investigations, stop the act of knowledge or information. I felt a need to ‘dare to challenge’, or ‘dare to know’, or even a ‘dare to be aware’. For sure, these paintings are being influenced by our current times. The light source in these paintings is coming from above and a few feet in front, being the distance of where a viewer would be standing, so that in itself, is quite metaphorical – the light source is revealing something.”
(Detail) Shane Guffogg, Sapere Aude, (in progress), oil on canvas, 84 x 60″
At the time, Guffogg was listening to the daily onslaught of politic news, feeling like, as he said, this has all become one big reality TV show. Like William Blake in the 17th century, Guffogg’ Sapere Aude is making a statement, albeit indirect, about the social concerns. His paintings were a reaction to rethink the world around him. And by rethinking, there is a renewed need to see light, space, and form. These 3 ideas become a trinity, minus the religious connotations, leading us back to where we started – Spirituality.
Part 3 - coming next month
Victoria Chapman - “Conversations with Shane Guffogg”
October 2018