In my last post, I mentioned some of the quips Clio and Elsa made recently while we were drawing pictures. And, of course, the only thing more fascinating than hearing about the adorable things other people's kids say is looking at their fabulous artwork, right? But instead of just blathering on about Elsa and Clio's blossoming artistic abilities, I thought I would change things up a little by inviting world-renowned toddler art critic and scholar Dr. Enaj Repor (she's, um.....Turkish) to provide her professional commentary on some of the girls' recent work. So, without further ado: Enaj?
Thank you, Jane. Greetings, Baby Squared readers. I'm mildly pleased to be here. Before I discuss the specific works in question, I'd like to make a few comments on toddler art in general, specifically that of toddlers in the 24 to 30 month-old range, into which Elsa and Clio fall. At this age, children are not yet capable of representational art. Except in very rare cases (see my book, Look, Mommy, it's a Cantilevered Bridge: Studies in Accelerated Juvenile Artistic Development, 2002) they lack the necessary eye-hand-mind coordination to recreate recognizable images and objects.
Their drawings are, however, far from the "scribbles" they're often written off as by amateurs. The capacity for abstract expressionism in toddlers, while not a conscious aesthetic decision, is, in fact, quite remarkable. By examining the drawings of a two-year old, one (and by one, I mean me and only me) can ascertain a great deal about their inner lives, temperament, and worldview. One (still me) can also predict -- with a surprising accuracy -- the arc of their future creative development.
I'd like to preface my commentary by noting that I have not met either of the artists, or read anything else on this blog, so my interpretations are based purely on the work itself. Of course, these are only the interpretations of one person. But that person is me, ergo they are correct. Try to keep up.
1.
Untitled
Elsa Moock, 2009
Crayon on paper
A profusion of swirling lines; open curves; use of the entire canvas -- all of these indicate an expansive, outgoing temperament. The lines are of varying weights, but appear to be continuous -- that is to say, the crayon is rarely lifted from the paper -- suggesting that the work was created quickly, in the style of a gesture drawing. (Perhaps this work is part of a series?) I would surmise that the artist is a risk taker, perhaps impulsive in her behavior at times, with impressive gross motor skills. A real sense of "carpe diem" here. Any representational intentions the artist might have had were not fulfilled, owing to the developmental limitations I mentioned earlier. However, I do get the distinct sense that what she might have been trying to draw here is a stinky, stinky bat.
2.
Untitled
Elsa Moock, 2009
Crayon on paper
A similarly expansive style: large shapes, swift crayonstrokes. A slightly less fluid look overall, suggesting that perhaps this piece was, in fact, drawn before Untitled number 1 -- a sort of "warm up," if you will. One imagines the cacophonic but strangely pleasing sound of a tuning orchestra. Most notable in this work, however, are the orange lines which, judging from their texture and more controlled shape, were drawn by a different hand, most likely that of an adult. The (toddler) artist is clearly comfortable with a collaborative approach to art. (Note what appears to be a primitive attempt to "color in" the circle that the adult drew, toward the bottom of the page.) I wouldn't be suprised if, in the future, this artist moved toward more ensemble-oriented pursuits, e.g. theater, dance, community organizing, rugby, etc.
3.
Untitled
Clio Moock, 2009
Crayon on paper
Even without looking at the name it's quite obvious (even to a layperson, I would hope) that we're looking at the work of a different toddler artist. Note the prominence of tight, compact crayonstrokes, quite intentional in their orientation and varying degrees of darkness. This style suggests an artist of intense emotion and singular focus; I would not want to have to deal with a tantrum from this one. But note also the playful experimentation with different kinds of line, shape and weight. There's an underlying humor to this piece -- like a twinkle in the eye of a dragon. As for the black lines on the paper, they may have been added as an intentional tonal contrast. It's also possible that they were there before the artist began her work, or were added by her sister. If it's the latter, I suspect it didn't go over too well. There's no "I" in team (or in "Elsa" for that matter), but there most definitely is one in "Clio."
4.
Untitled
Clio Moock, 2009
Crayon on paper
Here, the artist's focus grows even more intense. The viewer is confronted with an intricate explosion of color and texture which, though it looks hastily made, is actually quite a time consuming process for a child under 36 months. Again, it's not entirely clear whether or not the other lines on the page -- the black, green, brown and blue -- are Clio's own additions, or those of a second hand. However, from the way it limns the "epicenters" of the red forms, the black line seems likely to be an intentional choice of the artist. Note the way it tapers off and shrivels to an end, in a sort of a graphic whimper -- a striking contrast to the "bang" the rest of the piece delivers. This artist shows great, if enigmatic, potential. If she does not pursue the visual arts, cardiovascular surgery or standup comedy are likely alternatives.
Thus ends my commentary. I am not interested in your puny opinions on my interpretations, and I am certainly not interested in hearing about your children's work. But I suppose Jane might be.
