What's in a Name? 2/28/22
Recently, I’ve been mulling over the process of naming artworks. I have been finishing up a few pieces and have hit that very specific form of “writer’s block” that comes from translating one’s artwork and the process of making it into some sort of language tag. I Find that my own process couldn’t be more random: I distinctly remember creating some works around a title that already existed in my head, which frankly is my preferred mode. When this happens, I interpret this blending of language and visual art as my conscious brain having the clarity of intention - of what I want to convey to my audience. On other occasions titles come to me just as I’m finishing the work. This too feels great as there is no real struggle for me to verbally/linguistically “interpret” my own work.
But the last categories - the one where the name comes to me weeks or even months after completion, or whose names I change weeks, months or even years later - can sometimes feel dishonest. As if I’m trying to retro-fit a concept I’m thinking about to an existing artwork. That said, I’ve recently decided to shed these negative feelings. After talking to a few other artists, I’ve come to realize that this range of approaches is quite common. Moreover, it can be quite helpful to “move away” from an artwork in time in order to better see what that work looks like from the outside looking in. And there’s no shame in shifting one’s own perspective about a piece, since it is always our intention to create something rich in meaning and layering, no matter how minimal the actual work. So what if our verbal/analytical cognition doesn’t match the same time scale as our visual creativity? After all, that’s why we find ourselves making visual art in the first place. It’s not an afterthought to our written words (though in some cases, I suppose it could be); if anything, it’s the reverse: the artwork is the primary creation, and the words have to find a way to fit that.
And at the end of the day, the development of those language tags (i.e. titles) that some of us need are a sort of handshake with our viewers, inviting them to look at our artwork with a peek into our own perspective.
[“Hidden” (encaustic, linen and nails on wood, 16x16x16”) From the series “Hard Sensualism”.]
[“What You Don’t See (pigments and acrylic media on wood, 24x24x1.5”) from the series “Folding In”]