Since my first encounter with what I now call The Seawall Mural, it is a joy to pass that junction and better yet, to be held up in traffic in its vicinity. I am grateful for the few minutes of departure from the reality offered by the mural and I wonder how many are as captivated by it as I am. Since my discovery of the boys retreating from the junction for idle times along the ocean edge, I keep looking, curious about what more I will see. Some days the blue in the mural’s sky exactly matches that of the sky above it. I keep looking. I am eager to discover what lurks in the spindly roots of the painted mangroves. I see a lone scarlet ibis. Where is the flock? Immediately my mind rests on the memories of airborne flocks. What a beautiful sight. Like a beautiful woman feigning unawareness of her beauty, walking as though the pavement is her runway. Next to the lone ibis is an uninspiring white crane. At least I think it is a crane. As my eye surveys the roots, and I imagine the return of the mangroves directly behind this scene, the lights change and my eastbound journey continues.
To say “I love art” is probably an understatement. But it was not always so. Architecture was my ‘thing’ for the longest while, until somewhere along the journey in pursuit of architecture I met art. Of course, I had seen art before but we were never introduced. And on this occasion, it was not love at first encounter, but on the second and third meeting, I got curious. How could art make me feel as it did? These were hesitant interactions until one day I realised it knew me without me knowing it, and it spoke for me. I remember the day. I stood in front of a Frida Kahlo, alone in a city of millions with my family far away from me. I felt seen and comforted. Thereafter, I wanted to know as much as I could about Frida and about art. However, I was committed to my first love – architecture. So, art was the side you know what. Our encounters were periodic but intense.
The day came when I realised my relationship with architecture could go no further, for the time being. It was then that I began to really invest in art. We agreed. We disagreed. But the love grew. When we love someone, we want to know all we can about that person. So it was with me and art. I didn’t see art as something elusive, something above me, or something I was unworthy of. I think often these are the barriers we put to building what could be very rewarding experiences with art. As instinctual as it is to make marks, it is not instinctual for us to make effective marks or read marks effectively. This is something that can be learned. It is also something that takes time. So, I read about art. Even learned to make art. All in a bid to build my relationship with art until I could return to my first love.
I say all this to make a point. Art is not some mysterious thing that some people understand and others do not. Just like with the game of cricket where rules have to be learned, so too with art. No one can go to the cricket game without knowing some things about the game. And as much as football seems easy to grasp, there are some rules. So why not expect the same with art? Just as the untutored will get lost in cricket or football and they may seem silly, so too will this thing called art if you don’t learn somethings about it.
My second point. Not every ball thrown at a bat constitutes the game of cricket, likewise not every mark on paper constitutes art. Similarly, not every ball that enters the goal is a goal, and not every application of paint to canvas is art. Sometimes that ball thrown at the bat is baseball and sometimes that mark made on paper is just that, a mark. And even if the ball turns out to be a cricket ball and the bat is a cricket bat, not every thrown ball is effective. So too, not every gesture made in the name of art is effective. In art, there are metaphorical wide balls also. The same way some of the best bowlers can err and throw a wide, the same can happen with the celebrated and known makers of art. Artists of repute can err. Artists of standing can make bad art! Therefore, just as not every bat-to-ball contact translates to a six, so too in art some gestures are not excellent and some even translate to a duck ball.
My third and last point. Give yourself time, if you have not, to have a meaningful relationship with art. Unlike some of our real-life relationships, this one is not likely to hurt. It will be immensely rewarding. It may lift you on a day you need to be lifted and comfort you in a moment you need comforting. It may cause you to dream as it broadens the smile on your face and in your heart. It may validate your internal reality and justify your externalised self. Therefore, as we close off this first series, I invite you to an exhibition that may do precisely these things. I invite you to return to Castellani House to view the first visual art exhibition hosted by the University of Guyana’s Faculty of Education and Humanities since 2019. “The Seven Orishas and The Scarlet Thread is an exhibition of work done by the recent cohort of the Division of Creative Art’s BA in Fine Art. The exhibition runs until January 14, 2023.
Akima McPherson is a multi-media artist, art historian, and educator.
