Problem Solving 101

Art is an arrangement of things in a space. Pigments and vehicles on a canvas, notes on a xylophone, dancers on a stage—their arrangement is art. While the Dadaists introduced chance to art, there is no doubt in my mind that in order for something to be classified as art, some element of the arrangement must be intentional. An arrangement is an ordering of out-of-order things, and each arranger has his or her own style and/or method.

In the case of The Peregrine Duration, images from selected sources were gathered—sixteen background images from a 1917 encyclopedic set, recently printed as an edition of broadsides with a lyrical quote from a 1972 popular progressive rock song, and seventeen circular portraits cut from circa 1950 National Geographic magazines—resulting in a complex problem to solve:

Which circle belongs with which background?

Next, because the background images are from an encyclopedic set titled “Lands and Peoples,” and because the message of the quoted lyric is arguably universal, each broadside/portrait combo is framed with maps from a world atlas. A 12” lp served as the jig for cutting the maps. One piece of beautiful marbled paper was then cut with a wavelike line, serving as a dreamlike header and footer for each collage. Eleven creamy yellow mats and five blue-gray mats from the Heavy Duty scrap mat board inventory presented another problem to solve:

Which collages get the blue-gray mats?

The things I have to think about.

Step 3: Because it had been determined that the complete set is stronger as a sum than it would be as parts, there arose yet another problem to solve:

How do you display a complete set of sixteen collages?

On the kitchen floor, all sixteen were laid out and an arrangement of arrangements ensued. As an arranger, when solving this particular problem, I asked myself lots of big questions:

4 x 4?
2 x 8?
5 + 5 + 6?
Do the blue ones stay together?
What is the relationship between this one and that one?
How does this one relate to those two?

Believe it or not, when I think about these kinds of things, I think about them for a long time. It's almost enough to make me nuts. It's as if I believe that someone else is really going to appreciate all the thought that I put into it, and may even be ballsy enough to be critical of my decision making. Or, is it just me thinking about something that doesn't really matter to anybody but me...for pleasure? It's a nice balance of the two, in reality.

After completing the arrangement, the collective demanded a physical means to hold them in order. How about a large board? Paint it? No, silly! This is a collage! And how do you cover a 4 x 7 foot board in collage, neutrally? Text pages from a book. The Century Book of Facts presented itself as the most appropriate book in the studio for the job.

Finally, to answer what’s behind the lyrical quote and the skull
and crossbones, anyone familiar with The Dark Side of the Moon shouldn’t need to ask. The tone of this statement, in song,
is despair. There is no time to kill. It’s an evil notion.
We've got work to do.

While art, in our culture, may not always be perceived as work,
it is. It is physical, it is cerebral, and it is emotional. It requires energy, and it is executed with a purpose, whether it be selfishly driven or for the greater common good—or both. So while I sometimes wonder if by creating artwork I am killing time,
I know I’m not. I’m working.

(If) You are young—get to work. There're problems to solve.