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| back to artists On art |
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Ed Ruscha - 1937
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| Lips, 1965 |
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Words come to me in dreams. If I do remember sentences, I have to write them down instantly or they’re forgotten five seconds after I’m out of bed. I’m going to forget them unless I absolutely sit down and write them. There is some wicked truth behind dreams. They are so out of your control. They are involuntary. There’s got to be some protein to them, something important happening in dreams - especially the words that come out of them.
The believer march, 2006 issue; an interview with Christopher Bollen.
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| Standard, 1966 |
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| Trademark, 1962 |
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| Trade School, 2005 |
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A lot of my paintings have that aerial oblique view. Even though my work is figurative, I still feel like I learned it all from abstract art. I have pretty much been doing the same thing since I was 18 years old. I have taken little side trips with other forms of art. But I have always come back to these initial things that got me going. Maybe it is because I painted signs or worked for a printer and learned how to set type. It's information age art.
I'm not a seafaring guy. My reason for doing that is to capture the idea of the thing rather than the thing itself. Lately I've painted pictures of mountains. Some people like to think that I set up a canvas outside in front of a mountain and paint that picture to try to capture that particular mountain. I am trying to capture the idea of the idea of the idea of the mountain. I'm not too strict with myself with messing with words. I try to keep it as fluid as possible and not have too many reasons for using or trying to capture a certain word. And I don't illustrate 'em. I don't search 'em out - they come to me. If I find them funny or valuable - that's when I move on them. There's no goal.
The fascination of the new is a great motivating force. Some people are convinced that there is nothing really new. I say that's wrong. There are going to be a lot of things that people do with art to be inspired by. Things go in cycles. We recognize people who are doing things today that we find valuable and profound. You can bet that these people and events will someday be buried. The ideas will be revolted against and forgotten and maybe resurrected somewhere way down the line. I have a real philosophical take on the whole thing. All this is so fast and so temporary. I always remember Robert Smithson - he was a friend of mine. He said, 'One pebble that moves 10 inches in 20 million years is enough action to keep me really excited.' I like to think of myself as an ambling rambling person who doesn't have to concern himself with time. The wandering soul: that's what we all dream about isn't it?
Doug Aitken talks to Ed Ruscha
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