The Collage Miniaturist

Superbounce
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7 x 7 inches
for Februllage 2020

Zig-Zag
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7 x 7 inches
for Februllage 2020

“The huge problem is that social media is designed to mess with our insecurities. When you post something and people like it, and a thousand people do that, it feels really good (and everybody who pretends like they are not enchanted by that is a liar), but you must not confuse that thing with real value and where you are going creatively.”
— Christoph Niemann
 

I continue to have mixed emotions about social networking formats, as do many others who use them daily. We enjoy the advantages and remain dubious about the rest (as if we even know what “the rest” means anymore). The continuous cross pollination and instant feedback across continents is unprecedented in the history of creativity. That must surely be filed under Awesome. On the other hand, the false intimacy and ubiquitous jockeying for the most visible presence on stage can be tedious. The potential for subtle exploitation, calculated abuse, and hidden subversion will be left for others to analyze.

The Instagram-centered Februllage project — coordinated by Scandinavian Collage Museum and The Edinburgh Collage Collective — ran into some parameter problems with the virtual platform last month. “Work-arounds” were devised. Because the unwelcome limitations were probably related to the massive participation, it would be reasonable to characterize the initiative as a huge success. I found it personally worthwhile to flirt with a few of season two’s catalytic “word prompts.” I wasn’t about to let “rabbit” slip by on day 27, so I combined a ruined book cover with ingredients from my bunny stash and added a minor ribbon that my dad claimed over 60 years ago during his reign as a nationally celebrated rabbit breeder. After posting an image on Instagram, I decided to revise the artwork with two additional critters and by restoring the string that I’d previously thought should be removed from the premium. The refined version is featured here.
 

Rabbit Book, 1958
collage artifact by J A Dixon
7.5 x 7.5 inches
available for purchase

Untitled (kiss)
collage exercise by J A Dixon
9.625 x 9.625 inches
 
for Februllage 2020

Flight Plan
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7.125 x 9 inches
available for purchase
 
for Februllage 2020

Materiality
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7.25 x 10 inches
available for purchase
 
for Februllage 2020

Idols
collage exercise by J A Dixon
6.875 x 8 inches
 
for Februllage 2020

Personae
collage experiment by J A Dixon
5 x 6.25 inches
 
for Februllage 2020

Righteous Brutes
collage miniature by J A Dixon
6 x 5.875 inches
available for purchase
 
for Februllage 2020

Untitled (poem)
collage experiment by J A Dixon
5.75 x 5.75 inches
 
for Februllage 2020

“Find out what you want to do and spend the rest of your life getting better at it.”
— Jeff Daniels
 

Februllage, the month-long, international collage-a-day initiative playing out for a second year in a row, has been thought provoking for me on multiple levels. The remarkable worldwide participation indicates how extensive the mobile-device-connected community of collage makers has become — and to what degree that phenomenon has been driven by social-media platforms like Instagram. There is every indication that the 2020 version will be even bigger than what took place a year ago.

It wasn’t that long ago (at about the time I made my first entry here at TCM) when nothing resembling what is occurring had taken place. Collage collectives certainly existed, and many interactive collaborations were under way, but the rapid penetration and sheer scale of Februllage was unknown, at least to this observer. With no physical artifacts involved, such as mail art, altered books, or other “analog” joint ventures, this is a purely virtual activity, with no distinction being made between digital, conventional, or hybrid collage techniques.

I must admit to you all that there have been moments when I’ve questioned whether or not the exercise is a gimmicky distraction, with participants chasing after approval and exposure. But my perspective shifts, and then I marvel at how unprecedented it is, at the magnitude of the cross-pollination, at the obvious artistic excitement being generated. It defines a new kind of 21st-century classroom studio, where everyone is looking at what others are doing at the surrounding drawing boards, and earnestly working to bring “A-Game” execution to the collective project. And, like an academic critique, the opinions of the self-appointed people at the front of the room can seem arbitrary at times, when they choose whom to highlight and whom to ignore. But let’s face it — that’s the way it’s always been in the art world, and it’s not realistic to think anything will change in the emerging age of social networks. A natural competitiveness is at the heart of any human activity, even when we come together in a spirit of shared purpose, personal growth, and trans-cultural camaraderie. And the most worthwhile and rewarding competition is the ongoing one we have with ourselves, as each of us makes a daily effort to be a better collage artist than we were last week, last month, or last year.

Here’s to all the strivers!
 

Confound Thy Stubborn Face
collage miniature by J A Dixon
7 x 7 inches
(prompt = ‘box’ and ‘birds’)
available for purchase

Cursed Machine
collage miniature by J A Dixon
8.25 x 8.75 inches
available for purchase