If you are reading this, you are no doubt aware of the enormous impact the Internet has had in recent years in terms of the accessibility of information in any number of different areas.

In the political arena, the role of the mainstream media is playing an ever-decreasing role, due to the large amount of information online-- whether you lean to the left or the right or to another direction altogether, you'll find a ton of information that is right up your alley. The political action on the blogosphere and other Internet political sites has simply exploded. No longer are people forced to rely on the mainstream media outlets for their news and political information.

In like manner, artists are no longer limited to the mainstream art magazines, such as Art in America, Artforum, etc. The periodical market has seen the rise of alternative art mags like Juxtapoz and New American Paintings, both of which I highly recommend. But again, as in politics, in the world of new and alternative art, the Internet is where the action is.

Anyone who has read this blog to any extent knows that my taste in art is pretty eclectic. In recent years, as I have more or less left the world of commercial illustration behind (my former career), I have been digging increasingly deeper into a wide range of different types of art. One of my favorite artists is the visionary/surrealist painter Abdul Mati Klarwein. I had the good fortune to be introduced to his work in the 1970s, and have previously featured him on this blog (click here to go to that page). Through looking at Klarwein's work on the Internet, and then following one link after another, I have discovered that there is a significant art movement that exists more or less underground-- this movement (for lack of a better term) is generally referred to as visionary art. I have fallen down the rabbit hole.

Similar posts: art therapy

I dropped by the Royal Institution of Great Britain near Green Park for the private view of the exhibition of "Crossing Over: Exchanges in Art Biotechnologies." The exhibition examines how biotech research could generate new scenarios and perspectives. The seven projects shown in this building of scientific curiosities discuss the fear and potential of genetic manipulation using a range of media and art forms.

Perhaps it was the wine, but for some reason, Vicki and I got rather giggly.

We sat in an auditorium watching a film with scenes of people illuminated by bacteria. Dr J, a bona fide scientist in, bounced in excitedly and watched the screen.

After a few minutes he asked somewhat disappointedly, "But where is the bacteria?"

That set us off.

Vicki: Apparently, the way it's made is that the people sit in a booth with the bacteria.
Me: So they're exposed to it?
Vicki: Yes. After around 48 hours, it dies anyway.
Me: The people?!!! I thought it's friendly bacteria!
Vicki: No, the bacteria dies!

I'm afraid not much dignity was recouped after that. You'd never know I took Pure Physics, Pure Chemistry and Pure Biology for my O Levels.

The exhibition was pretty interesting, but the building itself was even more fascinating with its culture of scientific eccentricity. We wandered along hallways of ceiling to floor bookshelves, past alcoves of glass cabinets and up curved stairwells hung with chandeliers.

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KMA: My introduction to your work was through your pastel drawings, which reminded me so much of the late Jerome Caja's artwork. Both of your works have, at times, overt religious and/or sexual overtones that speak bluntly, yet with much humour, to issues of sex, abuse, gender, and desire. As an HIV+ gay drag queen and artist, Caja especially had so many interesting pieces where he cross-identified with Jesus and la Virgen de Guadeloupe (two classic martyrs), using their images to explore his feelings around mortality, difference, persecution and reverence. When I look at your pastel illustrations, I can see that there is a similar dialogue that is also going on. Both you and Caja poke fun at the seriousness of religion's confines and speak to the "darker" experiences of life. Talk to us about some of the themes that dominate these drawings.

JORIAL: I think most artists and writers in personal struggle with their own mortality, whether it's HIV, cancer, other chronic illness, disability, injury, or advanced age. We tend to entomb ourselves in subject and content that explores memory, closure, cause and effect, or whatever we feel encapsulates, justifies or explains our journey. I experienced a severe creative block that lasted ten years following a rather traumatic period of my life, and visual artwork, writing or producing anything remotely creative, was only revived as the result of group art therapy offered at the AIDS Committee of Toronto and participation in an individual art therapy study at Mount Sinai Hospital.

After such a long period of artistic silence, a passionate response to HIV-related depression, stemming from the overwhelming social stigma that's rampant throughout the gay community, has been a central theme outpoured in most, if not all, of my stuff since 2005. Expressing that has been like coming out of a closet all over again a psychological and personal rollercoaster, which is as equally exhilarating, tedious, rewarding and terrifying as embracing queerness the first time around.

Similar posts: art therapy