Derusha, November 30, 2003

I’m the lucky artist to take a whack at reviewing this documentary by Renea Roberts. Who hasn’t heard about Burning Man? I heard whispers about it even in Alice Springs, Australia, where I’ve been painting and sculpting for the last eight years. I paint about the process that an artist goes through. My hope is like the Burning Man concept, that my work is an act of making and enjoying rather than commercializing. Ironically, back in the States, I find myself wondering how to fit in and how to commercialize my work. I can’t escape it: the more my work sells, the more I sell it. I have become confused about what is real art. The act of the work being sold corrupts the idea of making art. I like the idea that great things are made, not for sale, not for commerce, but for art’s sake. Galleries hold artists hostage, because art must be sold to be appreciated. I’m hearing about it all over again in Santa Fe, and I’m hearing again about Burning Man.

The most basic requirement for attending Burning Man is that you must both GIVE and RECEIVE. Why are we afraid to trust in this process? Is it that when we die, we don’t take anything with us? What is really going on here? Globalization of art and humanity? Does everything have a price? Does it bother you to get great works of art for free? Does this make it less valuable? The artist’s life of mind-bending labor and physical hardships never pays well enough. Then something like Burning Man comes up, and it’s all I believe, in terms of the true sense of art: making it happen. What happens when art is made with no constraints on size or material, and no price tag? Social relations grow with the gift economy of Burning Man, with the economics of time and journey and space and freedom. Could Burning Man be the globalization of art and human kindness?

Word is spreading. People from all over the world wait an entire year for it to happen again. In droves, they fly and drive to a wide-open space in the middle of the desert. It is an artist’s dream, the rawest sight, an empty desert, no size constraints ... so much to fill! The layout looks like a city designed by a Roman architect. Massive structures, colorful action. You might see lights as modern as Tokyo, color as intense as Paris, architecture as great as Spain, sculpture as grand as America. Who wouldn’t want to go? Is it the fear of the desert, the dust of bones before us? Fear of the primitive echo? The freedom of creativity? Are you a little too afraid to go and participate in Burning Man? Well, then just see Renea Roberts’ film, “Gifting It: A Burning Embrace of the Gift Economy.” Watching it, I felt I was there myself. Hours and days later, I’m still thinking about it. My daily living is becoming affected by my perceptions of Burning Man, an experience to enlighten the soul and carry the spirit through another year of commerce and city living.