In Art, Form is the skeleton upon which to hang technique. In the visual arts, that form is imagery. But the image itself is not the art. In music, form is sound. But the sound itself in not the art. In literary arts, the form is words. But the words are not the art. These things are merely skeletons upon which to hang technique. The technique is the art in any "work of art".

In my own work, I don't create the image, I borrow them. Instead, my focus is upon the technique I will use to render the image I have borrowed. When I select an image to work with, I do so by searching for images that either highlight my methods or force me to expand upon them.

However, it often happens that I receive praise for the imagery in my work. When that happens, I always have to defer credit. The common spectator does not posses the experience to appreciate the method, they rarely see beyond the form.

I have also seen, quite commonly, artists these days, who believe that form is the ultimate thing, sparing little attention to technique. They are convinced that a weakly executed attempt at a superior form will be forgiven, that the form alone will somehow be sufficient to carry the work forward. I say "commonly" because this mentality has become the more common one. And this is precisely the reason why, with very little effort (but at least some), it is extremely easy to submit work to a group art show and completely steal the show.

Believe me when I say, talent is in low supply these days. And, to be honest, I'm amazed, because art is an expensive enterprise. I would think that during these times of economic troubles, the people who spend what little they have to spare on art supplies, would use those materials in a more dignified manner.

I'm sorry, did that sound arrogant? Have you looked at some of the garbage that is showing up regularly in art shows these days? It's a disgrace! And furthermore, it's a disgrace that people are afraid to admit that it's a disgrace. I'm so tired of galleries that will exhibit anything, just because they don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I mean, "have standards!" give people something to strive for!

I submitted 5 paintings to a recent juried art show, which received more than 400 submissions and only accepted about 44. Only 2 of my 5 made it in. But, when I got to the show, I was furious to discover that three of my paintings were rejected to make room for some of the other crap that was in the show. For the love of god, one of the paintings was nothing more than what looked like someone had layed down a bunch of coat hangers on the canvas and spray painted, as if they were a stencil... For some reason, the 12 judges felt that this crap was better than my three rejected portraits. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

See for yourself: [link]

Stephen Boocks, Germantown, MD, “Hangers (Entaglements)”, Acrylic on Canvas, 30”x30”, $700

... and people wonder why art gets a bad rep.

Sorry, I got off on a tangent. That was not supposed to be the theme of this entry, just an example of a common trend in art these days, which I believe is in the wrong direction. And it's an accepted wrong direction. I say "wrong", because it doesn't reveal anything. The spectator does not grow by consequence of having experienced such work. This artist has not shown you anything. That's the difference between form and method.

Form is meaningless, like a word out of context. The revelation is in the execution. And, in order for said revelation to have value, it must strive to reveal something previously unknown.

This is what I've been doing in my work since 2003, using visual art to reveal a new way of looking at (of experiencing) images of which they are readily familiar. I noticed a long time ago how the way a person feels about someone dramatically affects the way they see them (physically); how someone deeply loved by one person can so easily appear as a monster to another.

I paint faces, commonly misinterpreted as portraits, but they're really just faces, just people, mostly strangers. I'm most attracted to photos people take of themselves. It's not hard to comprehend that we each have a unique vision of ourselves. When I look at a self-portrait (photograph), I see someone saying, "this is how I see myself... see me this way." I love that, so those are the forms upon which I hang my techniques.

It's not just a face (not just a word), it's a message. So I don't sling it up on canvas haphazardly without due reverence. I look deeply, I take my time and try to see it's most subtle attributes, and capture them. A painter can't paint what they don't see, so the detail says, "I bothered to look." I pay particular care to the mediums and the finish they produce, and to the energy of the brush strokes at the various parts of the composition. All of this technique, along with a good eye for color and a bit of creativity in distributing it, goes to result in a symphony of sight. And it's this symphony that is primarily responsible for the emotion conveyed in a work of art.

Next time you're out looking over or otherwise enjoying some art, try to go beyond the mere form and appreciate the technique. I think you'll agree, with a superior technique, the form becomes almost inconsequential.