Jean Debuffet... truly cracked (in, of course, a good way.)

Jean Debuffet's (1901-1985) work is truly cracked, and I love it. He has been called art brut. He has been called avant-garde, the post modern precursor, etc., etc., and, if you know me, you know that summing up people, work, and phenomena is just the type of reductive methodology which causes me great umbrage!!! Wow, got to love the word umbrage : )  Seriously, though, I'm not so immature that I don't understand the practicality of labels; however, when you label, you make smaller, and effectively short-sell the person and things' greatness. How much better just to say something is so fantastic that it's beyond words: but, you know, here we are together, and, it's still a lot of fun to use our clumsy language to try and intimate the truth of something, though, we know of course, the process is a sweet and inevitable exercise in futility. And, with that preface, I can proceed on the subject of Jean Debuffet, whose work exemplifies all of this.

As I mentioned, I prefer to say his work is truly cracked and marvelous. It's nuts. Perhaps in a university art class, such a characterization would be frowned upon, but I think it would be difficult to qualify with a more accurate succinctness. You examine Debuffet's pieces, and, you sense here is a man who understands the whole game is corrupt from A to Z, and the paintings seems to shout: "And this is what I think of it!"

One of my favorite things in the Debuffet timeline is "1924: Doubts the value of culture." Oh, my God, laughing out loud...how wonderful is that! And, his work shows it. Mr. Debuffet appreciated art made by the marginalized, malcontent, mentally ill, et. al., who didn't proceed artistically by imitative plan or overly conceived presentation. When you view Debuffet's work, and I hope you do, you may sense, as I do, that you're witnessing the work of an incredibly talented child...like a genius of a five year old! And I mean that as high compliment.

Jean Debuffet's paintings always seem to be hinting at mysteries. They must bear at least a tangential connection to the cryptic whisperings flittering in the minds of those who are love struck, dreaming of Utopia, or prone to schizophrenic self-conversations: and, these are very real conditions, and pretending that they don't exist, doesn't make them disappear (just like real history.) With Jean Debuffet, I always feel like I'm slightly missing the idea, so much so, that I may have concluded that the very idea is that the work leaves one slightly off balance.

Mr. Debuffet, perhaps, quite likely, didn't conceive of his own work in this manner, which is fine and to be expected. One wonderful aspect of art is its ability to stimulate thought, and, Jean Debuffet's work is nothing if it's not provocative. It seems he had a great time making it. In respect to other, tedious work, Debuffet is quoted as saying, "It goes against human nature, against the cosmic rhythms, it goes against man himself, to take trouble where none is needed." Jean Debuffet, obviously, had a rich, complex view of this business of life on earth and an examination of his visual work is like getting jabbed by such dazzling hieroglyphics.
Kemal Faruquee 1/08/05