On my way home from the studio I’d arranged to meet the Doc for an hour upstairs in the Three Quarks, it was warm and quiet. We got stuck in straightaway, as is our wont and with musical asides thrown in for good measure.
Dr Franklyn: ‘...What you were saying yesterday …I think that particular function is an unknown...but ...’ Pouring tea.
‘....The eye after all only has intelligence because of the brain…’ he laughs. ‘A bit prosaic and oddly put I know laddy – but people don’t get it at all in relation to the arts…there is a symbiosis of information of sorts I believe regarding the wider neural system – but what makes sense of it all?, it’s not just the brain as an abstract thing – but the very personal self, as held there. Everything about that particular person…projected and protected by that august organ…you can only learn what you want to know as they say and a typed card in a museum ‘explaining’ is only someone else’s imagination at work – and I’m not talking about history either…’
Me: ‘No I know – I’m as interested to know the real name of Rembrandts’ Night Watch as anyone else – or something of Vermeer’s techniques. It’s a different thing to the infantalisation of culture…it’s not the artists job to explain, to anyone: – often we are suckered into it – you deny the right of peoples imagination by doing so…I can only make things as clear as possible - in the work itself - the scope of my intention, the err…wider reverberation of ideas – as it were - held there. It's not Science.
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