On Working Incrementally

Postscript 8/19/2021: RIP Chuck Close. He's been an inspiration to me for most of my musical life. I'm a real believer in incrementalist approaches, as he was inspired by how musicians create works in increments of time. Being a musician is similar to working the way he did with grids. 

A few of my axioms on grids:

1971. Some people are averse to art that is done by mechanical means, but to work mechanically is not to worry about what you're going to do next, or to wonder if you're going to be in a mood to create. (A thought after reading a critique of Chuck Close's photorealism, in defense of working by 'mechanical' means) (1998)

1196. Analog is the metaphorical 'desire path' across the digital grid. Even zooming in to the most minute levels, there will be a curve overlaying a jagged edge.

0473. The jazz avant-garde was partly an attempt to break free of the grid of tonal music, but at the same time created a grid of its own. As Charles Mingus once said, "You have to improvise from something--you can't improvise from nothing". Inevitably, you need some type of map eventually, as the mind is wont of them. Even when structure is replaced with Dionysian spirit, we very often find ourselves inside different boundaries based upon exclusion and avoidance of the status quo; and find ourselves again ensnared by rules, even when the whole point was to get rid of the rules.

 

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Everything we do is incremental in some way. Activities that involve making something are almost always reliant on a series of linear or non-linear action chains, sometimes taking place in a period of weeks, months or years.

The work of artist Chuck Close is a prime example of an incremental process. In fact this process was his primary modus operandi, giving him an easy way to make and finish huge pieces based on simple methods and processes, reduced to simply making a series of marks on a surface assiduously every day for years on end.

But this is not to say works of art can't be made quickly. Japanese brush painting, snapshot photography and even pop songs are incremental in the sense that there may be an incubation period or preparatory period that precedes the actual creative act: brushes are organized and staged, cameras are armed, batteries charged, shots are scouted, lyrics are hewn over cups of coffee and cigarettes--all part of the incremental process.

To work incrementally, adding something in dribs and drabs, is an affirmation of life, filling the black/white void with the appearance of something.

We all work incrementally whether we like it or not. To do it intentionally is a way of making the passage of time a tangible, palpable and sometimes beautiful thing. To simply be a passive watcher of time is to be satisfied with a black void, a penultimate stage of death.

Make something every day--and life lives on for you.