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Fall Quarter Essay — September 2003

Show and Tell
The role of the exhibition in the practice of art
by Andrew Rush   ©2003

It couldn't have been a worse day for my art dealer to show up at my studio door. It was 1975, and I was in hot pursuit of a new idea, my working wall covered with scraps of drawings tacked and taped in a wild mosaic, while the floor around me was strewn with other drawing notations, potential candidates for the process churning on the wall.

But of course I stopped to greet my important guest. As we talked, I noticed Roger's eyes were scanning the floor. At some point he reached down and gingerly selected a drawing fragment, carefully brushed the floor dust off its surface with his handkerchief, propped it up on a nearby easel, and stepped back to examine it.

I have never forgotten that moment. By that simple act of isolating an image for contemplation, what had been part of the flotsam of my working process was magically transformed into "a work of art". It was as if for the first time I experienced how an image becomes a "work of art"- not by the work of making it, but by the simple act of choosing and presenting the image for public observation.

This memory came back to me recently as I walked into an exhibition at The Drawing Studio Gallery of work by the teen-age artists in our Art of Summer II program. Under the guidance of several TDS artists with professional experience in exhibition design, each student saw their best pieces showcased by the carefully crafted setting of lighting, placement, and in the context of other work. In this way they were introduced to the important last step of art-making-that of formally and silently presenting ones work, on its own two feet as it were, to anyone who will engage with it.

Why is exhibiting one's work in public important? This is not only an academic question for me right now, because I am in the middle of preparing two major exhibitions of my printmaking that will span fifty years of my art life.* So my answer to this question is as equally personal as professional at this time in my life.

• First, Exhibition makes me confront my own ego issues, by revealing where I am attached to my art (i.e. where my art is what "I am", instead of what "I do"). Even though I should be able to confidently stand upon my long public art-making career, I still feel as vulnerable as a kid. To present such a panorama of my life work leaves me nowhere to hide, because there is no other work, no better work, this is it. So much for outliving the need for approval and validation. I feel just like a firstgrader with my turn to show and tell; oh please let them like it.

• Second, Exhibition provides me a rare overview, lifting me above my everyday working process to contemplate my personal artistic journey as a bird's eye landscape. This personal journey is hard for me to see while I am working. Just as an effective artist frequently sits back to examine work-inprogress, maybe even consulting with a colleague before continuing, an exhibition detaches one from the "making" process, and with the support of a public setting provides an overview which often opens new directions.

• Third , Exhibition lets me measure my efforts in relationship to other art. In my case, by showing a large body of my work which began its journey fifty years ago I have a rare chance to understand better the nature and scope of my contribution to the art culture around me. At the least, such insight can help me be more successful in my way or style of work. For most artists the value ends there, but I think there is one more level:

• Fourth, Exhibition can ultimately open a new level of possibility altogether, by exposing the cultural context and its boundaries within which I work. Obviously the "local" art of our time and place is where our ideas about culture may start, but even the local scene is hard to see until I put my best work "out there", where the public and I can have a conversation about it. And the quality of that conversation can reveal, if I pay attention, the cultural context that I take to be "real". Or more simply said, for whom or what do I unconsciously work? My friends? The art scene of my town? Of the Southwest? Of America? An imaginary art critic? My mother's approval? There's a lot of new freedom in discovering what runs me. Check in after December and I'll report after the shows. Peace.

* At The University of Arizona Museum of Art, October 24, 2003 - January 18, 2004 "A Physical Art: The Intaglio Prints of Andrew Rush" and the Davis Dominguez Gallery, October 7 - November 15, 2003, "Erotica: New Etchings by Andrew Rush.

©2003 Andrew Rush. May not be copied or reproduced in any form without permission