Collections #2

I have become increasingly interested in the idea of Art Therapy. I am taking an Art Therapy class this semester and it seems to be crossing over into all aspects of my life.
This week in class, among the slush and snow that has been taking over much of the city streets, we sat in our seventh floor classroom and composed drawings. The drawings were to be a response to how we felt after we had discussed our moods with the group in class. After reflecting with my group, and declaring that I had had a wonderful day, I tried to make a response mirroring my feelings. I chose the colors grey, black, and red to work with. Then because I felt as if these colors were a little too cynical, I chose a teal. The teal, in all its swimming pool vivaciousness ended up being the most off putting part of my entire response piece.
I am most comfortable with the colors grey and black. It is becoming clear that Art Therapy is much less about others analysis of your art, and much more about how you feel before, while, and after you are creating it. It becomes about your point of view.
This feeling of exploration within art is not an unfamiliar one, but seemed to reach a high point as I walked through the Tino Sehgal piece at The Guggenheim, last week. The exhibition took on a life of its own, as it guided you through an individual journey. The exhibition consisted of people or as they were referred to "tanslators" of Toni Seghal's vision. There was no artwork placed on the walls of the Guggenheim and these translators were the living, and breathing exhibition. As we entered the first spiral, we were approached by a child, who we soon realized was part of the art piece, and as they guided us up the museum, they began to ask question about progress. As soon as they felt we had answered their questions sufficiently, the next translator would swiftly intercept us, asking us more questions and provoking us further. It became clear that as we made our own progress up the spirals, the translators became older, and thus the theme of life cycle was realized.
We became the exhibition itself, and in a fleeting moment we recreated what the exhibitions expectations and boundaries had been before we arrived. The exhibition loosely reflects the idea of the life cycle, but just like my grey and black charcoal drawing suited me better, the idea of life is only a suggestion as you walk up Frank Lloyd Wrights architectural spirals.
This idea of perception and therapy is reflected in much of society. Yesterday, my roommate's mirror, which was hung haphazardly on the wall fell. The news struck me and I immediately wondered who would be punished with the seven years bad luck. However, Monica, my roommate cleaned up the broken glass and kept the particularly fractured pieces for an art project. The pieces of broken mirror presented her with a fresh idea, like Sehgal's exhibition presents us with a new interpretation every time we walk through it, in essence, creating it anew. The same happens in my Art Therapy class, as we discuss different methods of therapy. Our perceptions of creation change. As we draw, we are no longer pressed to draw literal representations of figures, rather, shapes take their place. Creation is allowed to become more simplistic because we are no longer worried about form and content. We are slowly breaking down the barriers of what we knew, and replacing them with what we have learned. Our modes of expression are different. In this way, collections are also pieced together as barriers are broken down, creating more room to play with concept and creation within a collection.