Quote: Thomas Flight & J F Martel

On Thomas Flight’s YouTube channel he describes a film by Werner Herzog ‘Cave of Forgotten Dreams’ about the prehistoric cave paintings in Chauvet, France, and an essay written by J F Martel about the film….

(Martel) In the images this prehistoric people bequeath to us we get a glimpse of something like a shared humanity but also we gaze into a stranger part of ourselves, something reaching to the depths. Seeing art made 30,000 years ago there is a striking sense of familiarity. There’s something in the very activity of creating art that feels instantly recognisably human, an impulse which remains within us despite such a vast passing of time and despite how much society has changed across that span. What we find looking at this art is the mystery of who these people painting these images were and why they painted them. It’s as if we discovered signs of alien life only to realise the aliens are us, that our own existence is just as mysterious and startling as anything else in the cosmos.

(Flight) Even if cannot know what these cave paintings mean, there is a profound and moving mystery in the question of their meaning itself. These images don’t just represent the existence of something or someone but self awareness of that existence. The existence of the art in the caves is existence expressing itself for other to see and hear. What we don’t often think about is that despite how much art has changed, despite all the technological advancement and scientific knowledge we’ve acquired since these cave painters first did their work, we are still caught in this mystery today. Art for us is still mysterious and true works of art still express the mystery of life itself. According to Martel art ” demands that we feel and think the mystery of our passage through this body, on this earth, in this universe” and “bears witness to the bafflement that the mere fact of existence elicits in our brains.”

YouTube – Thomas Flight ‘Why AI ‘Art’ Feels So Wrong, quoting from ‘Reclaiming Art in the Age of Artifice: A Treatise, Critique and Call to Action’, J.F. Martel, Evolve Editions, 2015

Glisk: noun, Scots – the glimmer of sunlight through darkening clouds

I’ve been inhabiting my new studio in Burntisland for a few months now, firstly while the two adjoining shops were being fiercely renovated. For the first few months we took lots of layers out, discovering hidden secrets and beauty and history. With each new discovery I considered it carefully, and decided whether to retain or, if the space needed something else, to mark its passing, cover over or remove. This took a few months, then, just as the space was beginning to come together, the first wave of coronavirus lockdown happened.

Luckily the space has its own entrance (2, actually) and soon I was able to begin using it on my own as an actual studio space. I designed it to fit my working practices perfectly, and to accommodate my visual difficulties in particular. It proved to be a good space to work in. I made lots of sculptural vessels, with textured surfaces and paint, ink, crayon and string and thread. They were tactile, they were comforting and reassuring to make. I didn’t manage to really paint, but that’s fine. I know many artists who didn’t make their usual thing during this crisis, and I think that’s healthy. Some were concentrating on life itself, families, worries, worldwide things. I know the saying goes that when life gets tough that’s when artists get working, but I wonder if that work is immediate? I wonder if the work they are doing isn’t actually going on underground, somewhere deep inside. Some artists had a crazy creative period, digging deeper into their practice. Perhaps they were already doing work which addressed what we are collectively feeling, or perhaps that’s just the way they cope. I think either way is fine.

The good news is that the gallery space adjacent to the studio is also nearly complete, and the venture is called Glisk Studios and Gallery Space. I’m gradually gathering the work of artists I find has some connection to my own, and to each other. I like abstraction, curiosity, being surprised and delighted, opening up. The work I’m currently inviting falls into these categories. in future I want to be surprised by new things being shown to me. Then I’ll combine them with my work and with each other and i’m hoping to be delighted again.

I’m going to treat it as an atelier/boutique for a while, opening one day a week, probably a Friday, for ‘open studio’ days. From 11am – 5pm you’re welcome to come in (current restrictions apply) for a browse and a chat. Hopefully soon some local artisans will be coming in to the gallery space on regular Saturday afternoons to set up as a pop-up shop.