The art of deceit

Of course, there is self-deception and there is simple ignorance. Passionate positions about the nature and/or purpose of art; the idea that the President has control over the economy; or that the President is to blame for this or that when in fact Congress, a much hazier and less sexy lightning rod, is in fact to blame; choosing a President because he LOOKS good; buying a bottle of wine because the label is pretty; firing a winning coach because he has one losing season; debating the best way of parenting; judging a book by its cover; not wanting to get involved when a crime is witnessed; getting a boob job, or looking down on the woman who does; road rage, as if that’s going to solve something; attempting to make the case that ‘investing’ in the stock market is not gambling; trusting a ‘fund manager’ with your life savings when they can’t consistently do better than a chimpanzee or a dart thrower in competitions; believing that God is on OUR side, and not theirs also; believing we have the capacity to understand, when in all likelihood we don’t. Better to realize your limitations, live by the Golden Rule, and live in awe of your world and its events while you do your best to alleviate suffering in those around you. Create beautiful paintings and attribute it not to yourself, but the divine spark within. One sentiment among many is that we have a right to the work, but not the results.

The attraction of brilliant writers who also happen to be accomplished artists–such as Robert Sesco, above, is what makes this site worth returning to again and again. Thank you Robert and Robert.

No two people view life and the world in exactly the same way. Reflecting our own uniquely filtered perceptions may trigger facets of others’ imagination. I drink water for health, but perhaps I’m just diluting myself.

Robert, Why would you add to the deceit by not pointing it out as not true? To me, that makes you deceitful as well.

Self deceit is indeed a most damaging trait. The remedy, for an artist, is to paint a self portrait!

My daughter stopped in to see my gallery show in Santa Fe while she was in town a few years ago. The owner waxed on and on about me until she stopped him and asked, “Do you know who I am?” He said no, he didn’t. When she revealed she was my daughter, he replied, “Then you know everything I just told you was b _ _ _ _ _ _t”. Gallery owners have an obligation to tell the truth to their customers, not make up a convenient lie to make a sale. I’d love to be in a gallery there again, but not that one!

Life is a deceit, and deceit is in the eye of the deceiver. I love being deceived by art; when I like a painting for reasons other than what the artist intended it means that much more to me and shows me that perhaps the artist deceived their self. When I look at a mountain on a painted canvas is it a mountain or a painting? Are all paintings art and their painters artists?

In fact self-deception, for human beings, is a divine blessing! Their lives are too short, to fulfill their desired goals.

Have you seen the movie ‘The Man Who Invented Lying’? The ‘before’ world rings true to your letter.

I paint strange surreal paintings and I’m always asked… What does this one mean? The truth is I don’t know, but no one wants to hear that. I don’t like to lie so I have to find a more interesting way to tell them…. ” I don’t know”. Other times I answer an entirely different question and they forget that they asked me … “What is this one about?”

I read your twice-weekly letter with great interest and very much enjoy your thoughts. However I am not a visual artist, I am a creative writer (who occasionally paints — not well – just because I can’t help myself sometimes and must pick up a brush). Interestingly, I find that everything you write about the creative process in art applies just as well to creative writing. I even share occasional paragraphs of yours verbally with a creative writing class that I have. Just wanted to say that it interests me that creativity, in whatever genre, comes with the same issues and we are all “artists” in the general term, coping with our stumbling blocks and down days and moments of triumph when we know we produced something meaningful or even spectacular in whatever way we choose to express our truth.

ESOTERICA: THE SIMPLE INALIENABLE TRUTH A liar doth not… a good husband make. The leopard will never change his spots. Sparky belongs to somebody else. She married the wrong damned guy! [grin]

“All my work is an attempt to help you realise you possess two ways of looking. A learned intelligent way and an inherent instinctive way. I, as an artist, want you to look in the inherent way but you won’t do this because you always look for something you have learned to recognise. This is what you have evolved to do because it gave your ancestors a greater chance of survival. The way you are born to learn to look therefore subdues your powers of perception. You look in a controlled and organised way that works to hide an emotive and original sensation of what you see.”

The one email I never delete before reading it at least twice. It also allows me to exchange your wisdom and humour with whom ever is around my studio. Again today, “THE ART OF DECEIT” does it for me.

What you just described is Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) it is no joke. This type of self deception ruins people’s lives. ( NPD ) runs rampant in the arts. I wouldn’t encourage it.

B. S. baffles brains.

As an art dealer who regularly reads your letters, I was taken aback when I heard you say that your dealer fabricated a horse story to make a sale. Then I realized that many successful art dealers do often run a bit loose with the truth. Perhaps I need more imagination to be a more successful dealer than I currently am.

Count Your Blessings Robert, that your gallery made a sale. You are in a rare situation right now that you are even experiencing sales. If it took making you out to be something you are not then I go get some horses. Especially after your last sale of $60,000. 00 dollars you can afford it.

I have been subscribed to your twice weekly letter for a few months now and have been reading your letters regularly. I didn’t realize how much I look forward to it as it gives me a sense of comfort and sense of connection with fellow artists miles away from me till now. I just opened a solo exhibit and the months of “hard work” and preparation burned me out..More power to you, Robert. (Austria)

We do have some tendency to deceit to perk up our ego; a sense of self conceit. Perhaps sometimes we would like to think that we are as good if not better than another artist. I used to think that when I thought of someone they would be thinking of me too at the same time. It made me feel happy that someone would be thinking of me like a friend whom I have been corresponding with for a long time. Each time I participated in an exhibition I thought this time my painting will sell !Some optimism helps to keep on doing what I love doing. Painting is my joy to do and the thought of someone wanting to own one of mine is a boost to my ego. Toronto,Ontario. ________________________________________

We’re tossing around several different subjects here. Self deception is at the opposite end of self confidence. If you think you’re better than every other artist out there (and are not) you’ll never improve and will stagnate; on the other hand, self confidence will take you in a progressive direction where your vision lies. Critical honesty with oneself is necessary. As to the art itself we make decisions in execution to make a more pleasing work … not deception but deliberate choices meant to make the whole piece a work of art born of our personal perception. I don’t see that as a negative. It’s part of the art. Sure, we know there is a generous measure of showmanship in the arts. I wish I could remember his name, but a writer commented years ago, “When I was little and told stories I had my mouth washed out with soap. Now that I’m a successful writer I get paid for the same thing.” It’s all in context. Selling is quite another matter, and for a gallery owner to fall into used car salesman mode is almost funny. Why wouldn’t the truth of Robert Genn’s reputation, lifestyle, and interests be enough to sell a fine painting this couple could enjoy? Unnecessary. I knew a very successful used car salesman who insisted he never lied to a customer to gain a sale. One of his common selling points was, “Out of all the pieces of crap on this lot this one is probably the best you’re going to be able to afford. I hope it will get you to work for six months but then it will die on you. If you’re handy with a wrench you might get a little more. You want a better car, my friend, you’re going to have to come up with some more cash. This is the best I can do. Now let’s go sign some paperwork.” It is noteworthy “lying” seems to be expected these days, whether it is on a resume, corporate interests, politicians, or government policy. A healthy dose of skepticism better be part of our interaction with everyone and everything.

A good argument for liars. But as one who prefers ‘representational’ art over the abstract (generally), I’ve often wondered at pictures that show bits of history – wondered just how accurate they are. Because we build whole myths around pictures. And then we start believing them. And is this a good thing? I praise people who look hard and long at the truth and then look again to uncover more truth. Tell me the truth. I could live without ever seeing another pretty face in a picture. When painting pretty mountain scenes, where the lake below is a perfect reflection and clear and fresh, where the sky is unsullied and not full of planes and wires, where wild animals live free and well fed – it is a dream. Sure you can find these places in bits here and there. But you’ll find a row of people just pulled up in their SUV’s with a ton of photographic equipment and too much chatter waiting for just the right point of sunrise. Catch the dream. I don’t like pictures of great negativity either – terrible moments of death and anguish almost made beautiful by some talented artist – or squished pumpkins rotting on the road – or worse. Don’t we have a responsibility to show the truth sometimes? Even if we live in a fantasy land now that wouldn’t even recognize the truth, we artists see things others don’t see. Or we should. I started out artistry doing Nature studies. People would say “what IS that?” and i’d tell them it’s a bony projection on a rhino beetle. Or they’d say “there’s no background” – yes, but look at the mottled colors of the crayfish claw. These are things people never look at unless you point them out. And that’s the truth.

In October, you wrote on the topic of the value of MFA’s. The topic stayed with me and would not go away. As such, I write in hopes the internal conversation will quiet. I am one of those of the buckets of milieu who chose to pursue an MFA. Granted, I am late in the pursuit, late even in the acquisition of an BFA at 53. However. There was no need for me to add credentials to my name at this point in life—- whatever the acronyms or initials of the designation. As a lifelong learner, teacher, creativity cheerleader– I looked for the next step in my journey. At the completion of my BFA at 53, and MFA at 55- one could conclude that I had acquired debt without judicial reasoning. On one hand– I could agree. The degree gives me nothing except paper credentials to add my resumé in an engorged market within a reduced educational need– those who wish to teach inside an academic venue. Often when learning, I outstepped those who taught, choosing to keep closed my opinions to preserve dignity of teacher as well as student. Self learning, hunger to know, wish to challenge self, sometimes grows beyond the boundaries of an educational system presently in place. Still there was a validation, an opportunity to share, a community that I had not previously experienced that lead, teased, encouraged participation and further steps within the BFA. The acquisition of the MFA was sincerely a different animal. Within the Master’s program, I was forced to focus on the “WHY’S” of my work as opposed to the objective resulting product. As such, I a found rich fodder of exploratory ground to exhume, turn and examine, push beyond my expectations. My community was eclectic, extensive in its curiosity, encouraging and enfolding in its support. There was a rocket booster of propulsion within that program. Does that make my bottom line bigger? No. Really, it is useless unless I am already internally propelled. However– it does give a comparative value from my peers, a real evaluative critique from respected national and international artists, and inspiration beyond what a treasure chest of golden coins can contain. I understand that there may ever be a diminishing value to the degree of an MFA– and perhaps to the rising star of the studio PHD. But I can attest, as an elder creative in the communities of those who create, there are extended values to the experience that do not hold an equivalence in any dollar value. I sell work, complete commissions, teach, discover and learn beyond the Master’s program I attended at Goddard College. But doesn’t that really answer the question? I seek. I find. Answers are individual— carved to the creative who is determined enough to ask. The path is formed by the individual who determines it’s value.

This was found on a website dealing with the ongoing poaching of Africa’s rhinos… but hearing you legitimising deceit, makes me think it is apt here too…. “When plunder becomes a way of life for a group of men living together in society, they create for themselves, in the course of time, a legal system that authorizes it and a moral code that glorifies it.” – Frédéric Bastiat Even da Vinci said that “a small truth is better than a great lie.”

I’m constantly annoyed by having to tell people who mention that I am (or, am I) an artist, No, just a painter. I’m not annoyed at them, but I’m annoyed at my compulsion to be clear about that. On the other hand, it will be a fine day when I can, if ever, finally agree that I am indeed an artist. They mean, are you a painter, but for me there is a vast gulf, which I attempt daily to cross.

Edna, my neighbour is a painter. He paints walls. I suspect you are not that.