Werner Herzog: The Pursuit of Madness (Part One)

The first annual Herzogathon, hosted at Studio Six in Bristol, PA on January 1^st, was a modest success. Although the turnout was small the response was emphatic. It’s no easy task to sit still and in one place for twelve consecutive hours of anything, let alone the work of a director whose cinematic preoccupations can politely be described as idiosyncratic. But the films of Werner Herzog are unique. Special. His is a cinematic language that transforms a world once familiar and renders it new, alien, bizarre but often awe-inspiring, populated by people better suited for a back-alley slum, traveling circus or asylum than the big screen; a world observed with such a level gaze and reverent sincerity it’s impossible to turn away from once under the director’s peculiar spell. Even those who dislike him never forget having seen (or endured) one of his films.

This sense of the spellbinding is no coincidence. Herzog once hypnotized an entire cast for Heart of Glass (1976), the story about a small Bavarian village whose economy relies largely on the work provided by a local glassmaker and the production of a precious and one-of-a-kind “ruby” red glass. When the secret method to the glassmaking is lost with the death of its inventor the town slowly falls into despair, despite the warnings of a prophet who lives in the hills and implores the townspeople that they must seek a pragmatic solution to their crisis or face the destruction of the community. Herzog believed that by having the cast perform under hypnosis he could accurately convey the sense of mysticism surrounding the reclusive glassmaker and his unique creation, the power of an esoteric craft when introduced to a society unable to understand it and the cult that it can create as a result. He also expressed a desire to have himself appear onscreen before the start of the film to perform the same process of hypnosis used on the actors on the audience. But this, Herzog ultimately reasoned, was perhaps taking the idea a bit too far, even for him.

If there is a unifying theme to the program that was exhibited (other than that the six films shown are personal favorites) it’s the idea of the individual or group driven so completely by the single-minded pursuit of something so unattainable that the mere attempt to attain it leads to madness and extinction. This certain “something” can be a physical object but in Herzog’s universe it’s often ideological; he has little use for the materialistic. Now this is a very general description of a large body of work that is both adventurous and prolific, and Herzog finds elements of his fascination with the megalomaniacal, the outcast and the mad, in many different places. In Even Dwarfs Started Small (1970), the first and perhaps most challenging film of the series, a group of dwarfs detained in some kind of institution or forced-labor camp (it’s never specified) rebels against their captors and sets about wreaking havoc and destroying everything within the confines of their prison; the individuals formally in control of this unidentified place presumably have been forcefully overthrown, detained or killed.

Herzog seems less interested in the causes of the revolt in the film than the specific details of the characters run amok. There are virtually no scenes involving the directors of the institution or the display of force and repression that might justify and help us better understand the reasons for the dwarfs’ campaign of carnage. Instead there are extended scenes of stone throwing, plant burning, animal cannibalism and a crucified monkey marched in a makeshift procession around a littered and torched courtyard that make up most of the film’s ninety-six minutes. A passengerless truck endlessly drives in circles and seems to be the film’s central metaphor, an image Herzog repeatedly refers to. Not knowing what the characters are fighting for we’re not quite sure what they achieve, if anything. But perhaps chaos and destruction are what liberate the eponymous dwarfs from a life of oppression and limitation (their final crazed and desperate stand for independence), even if not forcefully imposed by some external authority but inherent in their condition simply by nature of their own debilitatingly small statures. This is a world that has no place for them so they set about making it uninhabitable for anyone (or anything) ever again. The film ends with the main character Hombre, the smallest of the small people, laughing maniacally at a camel unable to stand on its own four legs. Whether paralyzed because of a physical injury or paralyzed by fear we’re not sure, but it’s a painfully sad impairment that Hombre can’t seem to get enough of as the beast towers over him and he very nearly cackles himself to death.

Aguirre: The Wrath of God (1972) can be seen (in a way) picking up where Dwarfs leaves off, as a group of displaced people wander aimlessly through a foreign and hostile country in which they are ill-equipped to survive. It is the 16^th century and an army of one thousand Spanish conquistadors descends from the mountains (with armor, canons and sedan chairs in tow) into the wilds of the South American jungle. This is one of Herzog’s most striking and memorable images. He opens his film on a cloud of fog, faint and indistinct, and slowly as the camera pans down to reveal the jagged contours of the mountainside, out of the mists walk single-file the members of this doomed expedition, dotted like ants against the extraordinary grandeur of the surrounding landscape. If the dwarfs started small then these adventurers are at an even greater disadvantage: lost in an inhospitable world, they desperately try to gain control of a situation that was hopeless from the outset.

Their mission is to locate the city of El Dorado, rumored to be located in the heart of the Amazon jungle, and claim it in the name of the homeland. The expedition is led by Gonzolo Pizarro, who elects a small reconnaissance team to break from the large group and explore the regions surrounding the Amazon River. Don Pedro de Ursua is chosen to lead this auxiliary team, with Don Lope de Aguirre as his second-in-command. Ursua and Aguirre are instantly at odds, and Aguirre very quickly betrays his secret ambition to be the one in charge. When a third of their party gets stranded on a raft in a whirlpool in the middle of the river and murdered by natives in the night, Aguirre seizes his opportunity for power, successfully convincing the men of Ursua’s incompetence and thus turning them against him. His idea is to set out for El Dorado on his own, seducing his compatriots with promises of untold riches: they will secede from Pizarro’s group altogether and when they find El Dorado claim it for themselves, free from the bondage of their home crown.

Aguirre appoints a proxy through whom he commands with the reliable tactics of fear and intimidation. They draft a declaration of independence, signed by the hapless Don Fernando de Guzman, the titular new king of the future nation of El Dorado. Guzman weeps, but soon enjoys the benefits of his new post. Ursua is hanged, despite being granted clemency by Guzman when Aguirre orders his death, while Guzman himself only survives a few days longer after consuming most of the expedition’s food and abandoning their only horse (an alien beast in the wilds of the jungle and very valuable because it frightens the natives and as a last resort can be consumed when no other food rations remain); an offense that gets him assassinated. As their situation becomes increasingly dire, Aguirre pushes the crew on, driven by greed and lust for his daughter with whom he hopes to establish the purist of royal dynasties. Silent arrows fly from the thick of the surrounding jungle and pick off the men one by one. Most die or simply disappear, but Aguirre remains, steadfast in his madness and fevered dreams of a golden kingdom that is always just around the next bend of the great river.

It is impossible to discuss Aguirre without mention of its star, the incomparable Klaus Kinski. This is the first of five collaborations between Herzog and the oft-rumored volatile actor, and arguably the best. Kinski has the uncanny ability to convey authority, menace and desperation in a single glance, all of the qualities that make Aguirre the compellingly deranged character that he is. When he speaks, it’s often softly as he stalks about his company like a snake that always seems ready to strike but never does. The power is all in Kinski’s eyes, his curious limp and the way he carries his deformed body so that one arm always seems slightly longer than the other. Despite the stories of his over-the-top character and legendary on-set rants, his performance here is surprisingly low-key. It’s Aguirre’s silence that makes him scary: he speaks and acts only when he needs to and when there’s nobody else around to do it for him. It was the poster art for this film that first drew me to it (still one of my all-time favorites) and the shot of Kinski’s face. Having never before heard of Herzog or Kinski the film was an incredible gateway into the extraordinary worlds they created together and their infamous working relationship that eventually became the subject of its own film (more on My Best Fiend will be discussed later in the essay).

In Klaus Kinski Herzog found the perfect instrument for his stories about madmen set loose upon a world they try and recreate in their own images. If Kinski was by definition a method actor, then his method was megalomania. A perfect match. With Bruno S., the subject of his film Stroszek (1977), Herzog plays in an entirely different key. Semi-autobiographical, Stroszek follows Bruno upon release from prison and chronicles his tortured attempt to reacclimate himself to society. The son of a prostitute who abused him as an infant, and in-and-out of various mental institutions for most of his youth, the real-life Bruno S. was a street musician in Berlin like his character in the film (he’s basically playing himself). Herzog first spotted him in a documentary about musicians and hired him to play the lead in another film called The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser (1974), or as it’s alternately titled, Every Man for Himself and God Against All. Stroszek, written in just four days, was specifically tailored for Bruno.

It’s not essential to know the backstory of the film to understand and enjoy it. However, like most Herzog productions, the stories about their making are often just as fascinating as the films themselves, often blurring the line between fiction and reality; this has the inevitable effect of provoking the audience to question the validity of what they are seeing. Herzog is notorious for using this approach in his documentary work as well. Not content to simply distinguish between what is truth and fabrication, he constantly mixes the two to get at what he likes to call the “ecstatic truth” of a story, dismissing out of hand the mere “accountant’s truth” by way of banally recounting a list of facts about a person or situation. To continue the music metaphor, in Herzog’s hands the facts are used as notes that are often rearranged, modified or amplified to serve some greater philosophical purpose.

Most of the performers in Stroszek are non-actors, from Bruno’s ancient and frail old neighbor Clemens Scheitz to the pimp Wilhelm von Homburg, who torments him and his friends. The only seasoned performer in the mix is Eva Mattes, who plays Eva the prostitute. Eva and Bruno are friends, and she seeks refuge in his apartment from the seemingly daily beatings at the hands of the “Prince” of Homburg. Bruno spends his days busking in the streets and back-alleys of Berlin. Accompanied by an accordion and glockenspiel, he sings the story of his life. When the trouble later follows Eva home Herr Scheitz, Bruno and Eva decide that their situation is no longer safe and they must flee before one of them gets seriously hurt. Herr Scheitz has a nephew who lives in Wisconsin where they are invited to live. He owns a garage where he works as a mechanic. Scheitz convinces them that it’s a good idea: Bruno can work as his nephew’s helper and Eva can find a job as a waitress at a nearby truck stop. The great new world beckons them and they’re soon off to fulfill the promises of the dream life it offers.

In Wisconsin things barely go as planned. Eva finds a job as a waitress but hardly makes enough money to support the three of them. Bruno is hopeless as a mechanic and instantly falls into depression; away from his home and music and not able to communicate in the new language or express himself in any way he becomes sullen and more withdrawn. They very quickly fall behind on the monthly payments for the brand new 40-ft mobile home they purchase, and unable to understand or negotiate the terms of the mortgage it is soon repossessed by the bank and resold at an auction. Eva returns to prostitution, finding plenty of new business at the highway-side restaurant, and eventually hops a ride with some truckers to Vancouver.

Bruno, displaced and alone, doesn’t know what to do. His performance is haunting because it tragically conveys his worst fears about himself, society and his lack of place within it. Bruno is either out of step with the world, or the world is out of step with him. It doesn’t matter. He has his own interpretation, and when he holds up a small twisted sculpture to Eva and explains his inner torment by saying, “here you see a schematic model I have made of how it looks inside Bruno. They're closing all the doors on him, and oh, so, politely", it’s about as clear and precise a statement as anybody has made about what has happened. Herr Scheitz on the other hand suspects that there is a conspiracy against them and decides to act. Bruno goes along with it. What else can he do? With shotgun in hand they drive to the bank that has taken their home. When they find it closed they run into a neighboring barbershop and hold up the owner for a few bucks. Then they run into a food market across the street where Bruno buys a turkey with the stolen money. The police quickly seize upon the store and arrest Scheitz. Bruno, hidden in a different aisle, gets away

Bruno drives on. With no clear destination he winds up at a bizarre roadside American Indian-themed tourist park. He sets his truck ablaze and to driving in circles (just like the dwarfs did in the earlier film). Bruno hops onto a ski lift and rides it around and around, alone. The movie ends with an image of a dancing chicken, started by Bruno through a coin-activated machine that forces the chicken to hop in place because of a vibrating metal plate at the bottom of its cage. Supposedly the film’s crew was so repulsed by this contraption they refused to participate in shooting it. So Herzog had to film it alone (or so he claims) believing that the dancing chicken was a “grand metaphor” and the perfect image with which to end his film. A metaphor for what you might ask? He’s still not sure.

To be continued…

-Chris

Editor’s note: Every once in a while, it happens to all of us. We’re sailing along through life, happily pointing out how people can be very rude, selfish and downright dickish when: BAM! We find ourselves acting like dicks. Well, I’m pretty embarrassed to note that, in regard to this piece, I acted like a dick by continuously allowing it to fester on the backburner while its author, the very well-spoken and insightful Mr. Chris, waited patiently and silently for me to post it. This is unfortunate for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that it is quite good. I hope that our readers enjoy it as much as I did and that we will see some more of Chris’s writing in the future.

-Shannon

Record Jacket: 25 Favorite Album Covers (25-21)

As a self proclaimed discophile album artwork has always intrigued me since I first started listening to music. The first albums I ever owned had some of the most iconic covers ever seen, like Iron Maiden's Killers and Van Halen's 1984. They were on Compact Disc, since it was the mid 90's and people had stopped listening to vinyl record once they're tune table belt snapped. My dad still had a stack in his old stereo entertainment center, just minus the record player and stereo system... sigh. Eventually, I began to realize that someone had to design these album covers, and I was eager to find out everything I could about the fine artists and photographers who created these iconic images, and the graphic designers that layout the final product. I never judged an album by it cover, but was always interested to see how the sound of the music tied into the images that I held in my hand as I gave my ear drums a stimulating workout. After earning an A.A. In graphic design and printing T-shirts for some of my friends bands at my screen printing job, my love and appreciation for ALL of the artists that contribute to these sonic masterpieces, and the entire art experience that comes with them, has only grown. So with the free time I had I thought I would compile a list of the 25 album covers that have continuously fascinated me since I first started listen to music. So sit back, relax and enjoy the first installment of The Dead Guy's 25 favorite album covers.

25. Toxicity – System of a Down

Besides being probably the angriest, and most powerful anti-war albums in the last decade, which, ironically, was released a week before the events of September. 11^th, it is also the only System of a Down album, not to feature the Parental Advisory label, even with the use of minor profanities. It has a particularity iconoclastic album cover, one which suggests at our blur between unreality and reality, which exist in our entertainment and news. This happens in some of the worst places, in this case it's Hollywood. With the words “System of a Down” replacing the traditional “Hollywood” in the Hollywood Hills, and the word “Toxicity” in sprayed in blood red across the bottom of the hill, you'd have to be a fool to think this might be mellow bong ripping album.

24. They Only Come Out at Night – Edgar Winter Group

This album, which was released in 1972, features Edgar Winter himself wearing lipstick, eye makeup, and a cheek stud on the cover. Unlike glam rockers like David Bowie, Winter’s facade has been altered with the addition of mutton chops and lacks those boyish good looks made famous by David Bowie, which makes for a much more interesting assault on the American public. There is just something about a man, like Edgar Winter, in drag that is deeply disturbing, unattractive and highly intriguing. This album cover epitomizes the glam rock scene that would help blur those pesky gender lines and stereo types that are just plain silly.

23.Nothing Shocking – Jane's Addiction

Perry Farrell created the cover image for Nothing's Shocking. Farrell said the image, like much of his artwork, came to him in a dream. Farrell had hired Warner Brother employees to create the cover sculpture, but after learning how to create sculptures by watching them closely, he fired the Warner Brothers staff and created the artwork himself. Farrell hired someone to help create a full body casting of his girlfriend for use as the sculptures. Retailers and PRMC talking heads like Tipper Gore objected to the album's cover, which 9 out of the 11 leading record store chains refused to carry, since and the record had to be issued covered with a brown paper bag. The brashness and beauty speak for its self, the surreal images of naked conjoined twins with their heads on fire, let's you know right away that you should be prepared for a face melting wall of sound.

22. What Am I Doing in New Jersey? - George Carlin

This is one of my favorite albums for two reasons. First, my family is from New Jersey, and I hate it just as much as Carlin. Secondly, it's one of the first album where Carlin treads into the topic of current politics. Carlin opening line sums up the political climate of the 80's with, "I really haven't seen this many people in one place since they took the group photographs of all the criminals and lawbreakers in the Ronald Reagan administration." The Album cover captures the price of industrialization in the most over industrialized states in the union, New Jersey. Standing in one of the many industrial parks that litter the great “Garden State” or as Carlin so eloquently puts it, “The Garden State? Sure, if you're growing smoke stacks!, This album captures America at the beginning of its decline into bad health and stupidity. The Cover captures everything that people around the world have hated about this country, and it's people since then. Who knew a single image could capture the disparity of “Reaganomics” and the trickledown theory, and the demise of the American Dream. It is also one of the few albums covers that features the World Trade Center, how apropos!

21. Given to the Rising - Neurosis

When it comes to iconic imagery look no further then Oaklands very own Neurosis, and their last record Given to the Rising. The simplicity of the overall layout in overshadowed by the very powerful image of a horse with antler armor. The horse in one of many statues in the famous Hosök tere, or Hero's Square. The Horse of Hero Square is symbolic of the sound of this album, and in general, the raw power of the very influential Neurosis.

-The Dead Guy

The Lack Of Vision In Conceptual Design

The art movement known as conceptual art is said, by most art historians, to have began in the 1960's. However, its roots can be traced back to the Dada Movement, which began in Zurich Switzerland during World War I, and its use of ready-made objects. The idea of conceptual art was born out of the contention that art should examine its own nature. Most art historians would point to works such as Marcel Duchamp's readymades, for instance: the Bicycle Wheel and Fountain, to be the epitome of the conceptual art movement. Duchamp remarked in interviews many times that his selection of his readymades came from a sensation of "visual indifference," and that "...it was always the idea that came first, not the visual example.” This idea was reinforced in 1967 by conceptual artist Sol LeWitt's “Paragraphs on conceptual art”, where he wrote: “In conceptual art, the idea or concept is the most important aspect of the work. When an artist uses a conceptual form of art, it means that all of the planning and decisions are made beforehand and the execution is a perfunctory affair. The idea becomes a machine that makes the art.” Joseph Kosuth later added in his 1969 essay, Art after Philosophy, that, "With the unassisted Ready-made, art changed its focus from the form of the language to what was being said. Which means that it changed the nature of art from a question of morphology to a question of function. This change – one from “appearance” to “conception” – was the beginning of “modern” art and the beginning of conceptual art. All art, after Duchamp, is conceptual in nature because art only exists conceptually.”

The problem with conceptual art is that it takes the idea of what is known as “anti-art” to absurd and extreme lengths. It allows it to become pretentious, tasteless, and most of all unoriginal. It has become a “dead art” that offers very little to its audience except for tired nihilistic, in-your-face, shock-and-awe tactics that lack artistic credibility. Nihilism has no place in the art world. Although I do believe that art should have no rules or boundaries, it should be a vehicle of communication used to express meaning, purpose, and intrinsic value. Art should be more than just a concept or idea. Historically, art has been something known to speak to the deepest level of human existence. As Alex Grey wrote in his book The Mission of Art, “When artists give form to revelation, their art can advance, deepen, and potentially transform the consciousness of their community.” Conceptual art, although at times quite intriguing, has the tendency to confuse rather than liberate the human psyche. As a result, it has become fraught with stoic nihilism, which has not furthered our community's ability to evolve. This is due to conceptual art’s tendency to overvalue the idea, or concept, allowing it to take precedence over the rest of the creative process. Consequently, conceptual art has failed humanity on an epic scale, for its lack of spiritual sustenance and artistic vision. This is a travesty. An audience needs more than just the initial idea from the artist. What the audience needs is to witness the evolution of the transcendental visions that are bestowed upon the artistic individual, or for the artist, at least, to capture and preserve it in their body of work. In other words, art should aid in promoting the celebration of life through the entire creative process, not just the concept. It is precisely this problem that collegiate art schools perpetuate when they teach students outdated and banal conceptual art theories. An idea that lacks vision and a lucid message is hollow and worthless to the community. It is because of this that conceptual art has become nothing more than, "aesthetic masturbation without communication".

Art was once an evolutionary process of artistic development which allowed an artist to develop and sharpen their techniques while learning how to utilize their aesthetic knowledge to communicate a personal or, sometimes trans personal, vision. These are the very ideals that collegiate institutions threw away with the inception of conceptual art theory. There is no point in having a vision in conceptual art since the concept is given precedent over the process, the outcome, and the final work. Hence, the reason why many conceptual art installations are not even constructed by the artists who conceive them, but rather hired hands, further contributing to the detachment of the artists to the audience. Terence McKenna once said, "Art's task is to save the soul of mankind…anything else is a dithering while Rome burns.” conceptual art has become precisely the “dithering” that McKenna forewarn us of. Consequently, conceptual art has lost touch with it's audience, leaving the viewer with nothing more than a contrived and undeveloped message, if one even exists at all, and more confused then when they entered the gallery, and likely never to return again, except to propagate a false image of being a civilized intellectual who “gets it”. A work of art should enlighten the viewer by challenging its audience to think differently. It must liberate the mind, not just confuse and shock it. As Keith Haring once said, “I don't think art is propaganda; it should be something that liberates the soul, provokes the imagination and encourages people to go further. It celebrates humanity instead of manipulating it.” conceptual art does not challenge its audience, but alienates it by mocking and confusing it's viewers with its intriguing, yet vague, and undeveloped ideas.

This may be the reason why the head of the Institute of Contemporary Arts, Ivan Massow, said that most conceptual art was, "pretentious, self-indulgent, craftless tat" that is, “all hype and no substance.” This honest insight led conceptual artist, and former Turner Prize nominee, Tracey Emin to call for his resignation. However, In defense of Massow, The Stuckist, a International group of painters, responded by also calling it “pretentious” plus, “unremarkable and boring" and even responded creatively by leaving a coffin outside the White Cube gallery, marked "The Death of conceptual art". The Stuckists have asserted that conceptual art was warranted by the work of Marcel Duchamp, but that Duchamp's work was "anti-art by intent and effect". The Stuckists feel that "Duchamp's work was a protest against the stale, unthinking artistic establishment of his day", while "the great, but wholly unintentional, irony of postmodernism is that it is a direct equivalent of the conformist, unoriginal, establishment that Duchamp attacked in the first place." This puts the art students at a disadvantage when it comes to questioning conceptual art theory, because they fear that if they question their professor, they will receive bad marks. As a result, some art students will either drop out, lose their passion by graduation, or develop an unquestioning allegiance to their Alma Mater while perpetuating the dogmatic elitist ideals of the institution. This is a dreadful problem since a true artist, as a rule, should never hold an allegiance to any institution, be it political or educational. It should be the mission, which even the Dadaists; who are responsible for conceptual art have shown, is to question authority unequivocally and the systems of control that govern it.

Teachers who solely teach conceptual art in art schools cheapen the learning experience, not allowing their students to fully develop and evolve an idea to completion naturally. As a result, a lot of the students get frustrated and stressed out by an overwhelming work load that becomes devoid of the passion they once possessed, while being forced to quickly come up with a concept that never has a chance to gain a vision and a concise message. As a result these students spirits are slowly drained of all passion, producing nothing but more conceptual artists who continually perpetuate a “dead” art form. Subsequently, this allows the learning experience tp becomes very narrow and systematic, as conceptual thinking becomes dominate and creative thinking becomes ephemeral. Art schools should be teaching what will become the future of art, not the past. conceptual art has been around for almost a century, and if art teachers believe that conceptual art is the future of art then art will inevitably have no future. It is important to point out that art schools do not solely teach conceptual art theory, but many teachers may have a tendency to encourage their students to think conceptually since it is the art form that dominates the landscape that the students are trying to assimilate into.

If there is a future for art that teachers should take notice of, and maybe even fear, it would probably be the visionary art movement, which, slowly but surely, is starting to gain momentum. Art galleries, such as the Museum of Modern Art, are beginning to take notice of the visionary art movement, which may offer its audience what they’ve been searching for; an art movement with a progressive spiritual message of unity and a interconnectedness with nature. The American visionary art Museum, for its own purposes, defines visionary art as, "art produced by self-taught individuals, usually without formal training, whose works arise from an innate personal vision that revels foremost in the creative act itself." This shift is taking place right now in the contemporary art world. One example of this is the sold out Tim Burton exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. Tim Burton has been referred to as a “Visionary Director” a number of times because of his use of Gothic, surrealistic, themes and images. Also his movies include archetypes, a favorite theme of visionary artists, such as the outcast protagonist of Jack Skelington in A Nightmare Before Christmas. A complete retrospective of a visionary art director would have been unthinkable 10-20 years ago, with conceptual art's stranglehold on the Contemporary Art world.

Many artists feel they are dealing with a ever increasing audience of vicarious Philistines who do nothing but binge on fast-food and reality T.V. while basking in the enjoyment of other peoples suffering. Therefore, conceptual art may have inadvertently expressed the vicarious and nihilistic nature that has consumed our culture for the last 50 years, but it has never offered any insight into how to reverse this dehumanization. In contrast, visionary art provides the soul of mankind with the spiritual nourishment that it desires. It is inarguable that the world around us is undergoing monumental changes, both socially and environmentally, which some members of the visionary art movement see as an attempt to prepare humanity for our next evolutionary stage, whether it be physical, psychological or both. Symbolism, Surrealism and Psychedelic Art are considered to be direct precursors to contemporary visionary art. As a Result, visionary artist have been tremendously intrigued by new developments in the fields of psychology and neurology by scientists such a Vilayanur S. Ramachandran and Rick Strassman, who are examining the same uncharted territory of human consciousness and imagination practically parallel to the visionary art movement.

V.S. Ramachandran and William Hirstein began to explore this in their paper “The Science of Art: A Neurological Theory of Aesthetic Experience“, which presents what may be the, “first experiments ever designed to empirically investigate the question of how the brain responds to art.” It is possible that some artists may take offense to scientists trying to objectively examine the subjective nature of art, but the insight that has been provided by these experiments has given us a preliminary understanding of what may separate artists from the rest of the population neurologically. And how the brain physiologically responds to the aesthetics of form and color, which Kandinsky once proposed as the “two weapons” that “painting has at her disposal.” Their research has begun to provide actual answers to the age old philosophical question “What is Art?” by attempting to discover, “universal laws of art.” What Ramachandran came up with was what he calls the, “Eight laws of artistic experience”. In the essay Ramachandran remarked that, “Although we initially proposed these ‘laws’ in a playful spirit, we were persuaded that there is enough merit in them to warrant publication in a philosophical journal. If the essay succeeds in stimulating a dialogue between artists, visual physiologists and evolutionary biologists, it will have adequately served its purpose.” Ramachandran study of the human brain has also lead him to refute the idea of C.P Snow that the when it comes to the two cultures of the humanities and science “never the twain shall meet.” He demonstrated this at a recent Ted talk with his lecture entitled “The neurons that shaped civilization” where he demonstrated that, “within the human brain lies an interface” which can do precisely what Snow said should not be done. Ramachandran study of how the brain responds to art has even enhanced his own appreciation of visual art. The discoveries of these scientists has been fueling the fire of interest in minds all over the world. And what is being proposed within art and science is that understanding consciousness maybe the Holy Grail; to fully understand human culture and civilization. visionary art points us in that direction, which makes it more relevant and contemporary then conceptual art.

If we were to go back to the inception of conceptual art it would not have started during or after World War II, as most art historians contend, but prior. The ready-mades, which were made famous by artists such as Marcel Duchamp, date back to 1917 with Fountain. Therefore, An Art movement that has roots which can be traced back almost a century can hardly still be considered contemporary. This does not cheapen the importance of such artistic seers as Marcel Duchamp, but reinforces the artistic virtue of originality. As Josie Appleton wrote in his article conceptual art: What's the idea?, “What Duchamp did at least had the virtue of being original - up until that point, the issue of how we define art had not been questioned in such a dramatic way.” However, “Among those who followed him, this game of naming art objects became a little tired. Rather than explore ways of representing experiences or ideas, it became a matter of showing up the arbitrariness of systems of naming: presenting a plastic cup and calling it 'tree', for example.”

This age of Postmodernism and deconstructionism has totally baffled anyone trying to gain a deeper appreciation of art. To design a work with the wholly intention to offend the viewer is fundamentally different than designing a work of art that calls for a convention to be question. The difference of the matter lies solely with the action of intent. A conceptual artists who intended goal is solely to offend the viewer seems fundamentally pointless. It seems as though that the whole idea behind conceptual art is that the intent of a work is either secondary or even meaningless, and that the original idea, or concept, is the only thing that matters. The artist is a unique individual who is praised for their ability to question everything, especially conventions, but great artists, as a virtue, should try to evoke the same questioning in the viewer in order to evolve an idea within a society. If the idea is the only thing that matters, than any evolution of that idea would seem to be blasphemy to the conceptual artist. This presents a problem since most of the people who want to appreciate art are ridiculed by the conceptual artist for wanting to gain a transcendental shift in conciseness.

Conceptual art has lead humanity astray, and down a spiritually blind ally of nihilism and disenchantment. Offering us no glimpse of our collective future, and affording us no remedy to our dehumanization. In a lecture about creativity, Terrence Mckenna summarized the history of art, and the evolution from the archaic societies that first utilized it. Mckenna went on to point out the shamanic element of the artists who, much like the shaman, emerged himself in the visual realms of consciousness and brings back the artifacts of the imagination in the form of objects of art: painting, sculptures, clay pots ect. It is this mystical element, an alchemical experimentation with the irrational and unknown, as Mckenna stated, that has either been, “suppressed or forgotten.”. This fascination with the mystical has reared it head sporadically through art history since the Renaissance, first with the Romantics, and then again later on in the 20th century with Surrealism and Abstract Expressionism. Art, like music, may have may themes and stories running through it, but like music what is always present in the highest level of art is an emotional resonance that should spur an Apocalypse of one's soul. As we speak, the world is undergoing a psychological apocalypse that is resonating on the deepest level of humanity, the world soul. It seems as though the world is collapsing, because all of the things that have even been given value in our society are beginning to be exposed as mere concepts. Money, laws, rights and the human ego; these are nothing more that concepts of human imagination and therefore have no basis in the real world of nature. It seems inevitable that conceptual art be subject to the same observation and should be allowed to be questioned. It has accomplished what it could for art history, and should be celebrated as it is added to the annals of history, but not until it releases it's grip around the throat of the art world.

Visionary artists, such as Alex Grey, are now using universal religious symbols and themes in order to unify the world in a search for the similarities linking all world religions, in hopes of promoting religious open-mindedness. conceptual art offers no evolutionary spring board to catapult our species to where we should be at this stage in our evolution, no longer making it relevant to “intelligent civilized humans in the twenty first century”. Consequently, if the institution of the collegiate art school does not undergo a long overdue evolution of its own artistic ideals and virtue, it will inevitably crumble with the rest of the world. What art schools should be doing is encouraging their students to develop and pursue their own personal vision, and also encourage artists to work together to create a collective vision to liberate humanity from the clutches of convention. It seems disingenuous for art schools to encourage students to conform their art to whatever happens to be the most successful art movement at that time. This kind of thinking is what has made the art world so stagnate recently. Some art teachers must relies that they are doing the art world an incredible disservice when they elect to create successful artists instead of encouraging artists to be unique and novel. It seems as though some teachers are robing their students of the power to insight change that can transform the art world, by teaching them that this is how art world is, and there is nothing that you can do about it. It is a travesty that the art world has become more concerned with who you know and what school you went to then what you can actually do. The art school, much like all collegiate institutions, has become first a formerly a business, and like any other college you must convince perspective students and their parents, who are most likely footing the bill, that going to this particular school is a investment in the success of the student. Thus perpetuating the American ideal that success can only be measured in dollars.

One of the greatest skills of artists is to think creatively, and what I mean by that is artists are not afraid to try new things or make mistakes, therefore novelty is not only the essence of the creative process, but the essential provocation of the universe. Many artists in the past have felt a deep connection to the universe and that if you are doing the will of the universe you can do no wrong. The idea of a mistake is just another construct of the conceptual mind and should be thoroughly renounced by artists. The late great Jackson Pollock believed their were no such thing as mistakes, which made it possible for him to suspend any interest to "do things right". conceptual art elevates and worships the Ego of the individual artists, and disregards the tao of the universe which makes this all possible in the first place. Artists are the cosmonaut that we rely on to give us a deeper appreciation and understanding of the universe. they present the individual as a microcosm that will lead the way. V.S. Ramachandran had stated that, “it has been calculated that the number of permutations and combinations of brain activity exceeds the number of elementary particles in the universe.” I believe this makes exploration of the inner world just as important as exploration of the outer world of deep space, and that it is time for the artists to reclaim their birth right and unite with the universe in order to expose humanity to what it finds most difficult to confront, and that is exploring the Terra Incognito of the inner, unconscious worlds of the human mind. This is precisely the virtue which unites the visionary art world.

-The Dead Guy