Imitation Pieces
by Kate Felts
There was this one time in my senior year of high school (like, a few weeks before the whole quarantining shit began) where my AP art class decided to take a trip to the Dayton Art Institute. That fateful week was the week I was really really sick. Like, really sick. In hindsight, I think I had covid because this was at the beginning of the outbreak in Ohio and the doctors couldn’t figure out what the hell it was even from its ridiculously flu-like symptoms. This was also the same time where I wanted to die. I was struggling harder than ever with my eating disorder and not even the strenuous ED therapy I was going through at the time made any sort of difference whatsoever. It was great!
So there I was, the night before the field trip, trying to decide if I should go or not. Yeah, it doesn’t sound like a big deal as I’m writing this right now, but I really wanted to go to this stupid museum. I wanted it more than anything at the time, and something in my head was telling me I really needed to experience it. It was funny, though, because I have been to this museum countless times. I used to take classes there and I would just be allowed to roam and check out all of the artwork while I was at it, so it’s not like I would be missing anything super groundbreaking if I didn’t go. Yet, for some reason, I was just really set on the idea of going. And let me remind you, I felt miserable. I felt really awful. Knowing I wasn’t contagious (according to the doctors), I finally settled on forcing myself on the trip. Again, this doesn’t sound like a big deal, but doing very simple tasks such as brushing my teeth was strenuous for me at this time because I was so damn depressed. As well as this, I was having panic attacks that would leave me incapable of speaking or moving so I was deeply afraid to go anywhere other than my room. Even because of this, I went. I don’t know why, but I went.
I don’t really remember getting there, nor walking through the museum because my brain was just a puddle of mush in my head at the time. What I do remember, though, is standing in front of this painting. Undergrowth with Two Figures by Vincent Van Gogh. I had no clue that Van Gogh’s work was going to be in the museum, and he was my favourite artist at the time (I know, cliche right. I’m an art student and my favourite artist is Van Gogh! Go figure). I was drawn to his struggles, I guess. The Cincinnati Art Museum’s website says, "In May 1890 Vincent van Gogh left the asylum at Saint-Rémy for Auvers-sur-Oise, a small village north of Paris which he described as ‘Edenic.’ On July 27 he shot himself, dying two days later. The myth of the suffering artist, whose madness enabled him to transcend the limitations of art, has colored perceptions of him ever since. Van Gogh himself noted that bouts of madness only spurred him to work during his periods of sanity; during his final months at Auvers he painted nearly one canvas a day.” This piece was painted in his final days at the asylum at Saint-Rémy, picturing the garden where he sat and watched and waited. I don’t really know why, but I cried when I stood in front of this painting. Not a lot, but I cried. I felt his pain. I felt his longing for clarity or death. Looking back, I was so fragile at the time. I was so lost and the only thing that life promised me at the time was death. Nothing else was certain. But what I found certain, though, was my love for this painting. And my passion for art. My passion for the depiction of my own surroundings and thoughts at the time. I feel like every artist has this weird sort of awakening, so I guess it kind of makes sense in a way.
Reflection
For these They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us imitation pieces, I focused mostly on the way Hanif brings a piece of art/music and brings it back to relate to his own passions and experiences. To be honest, I had no idea for a while there about what the hell to write about in the beginning of this project. I’m so burnt out by school and existence and writing that typing my own texts zaps me of any energy I’ve managed to gather. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed writing these essays because I realized I honestly forgot about my own passion for art during the pandemic. Even though essays haven’t been my favourite thing to write this semester (due to lack of motivation and inspiration), I had fun writing these They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us imitation pieces. I’ve become so detached with viewing and making art for pleasure, and for myself. I’m so used to creating art for grades now that it has become something that I haven’t felt super connected with anymore. Reflecting back on what I love and my own passion for art and writing has kind of put things in perspective for me again, which was much needed.
I tried to emulate Section II, “Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die” as best as I could with Hanif’s formatting because it was absolutely my favourite essay in They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us because of the genuine impact it had on me. I really felt myself drawn to Hanif’s words and the points he made, as well as his ability to trace his words back to his own experiences and dealings in life. I focused more on this essay on my second piece rather than my first. For my first imitation piece, I tried to focus less on my own experiences with the painting and more of how it made me feel from viewing it from afar and without being able to really perceive it physically. I suppose my first piece more accurately emulates “The Night Prince Walked on Water” rather than the other in that sense.
I tried to focus my second imitation piece more on myself and my own personal experiences and feelings, even if they weren’t as groundbreaking as Hanif’s. I wanted to imitate “Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die” more in that sense, and also because I enjoy writing in this way much more than writing something filled to the brim with facts rather than filled to the brim with emotions. I think this is another reason why I enjoyed “Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die” so much, as Hanif doesn’t focus on just facts. It’s more of an emotion/experience based essay, which is what I find myself being way more drawn to. It was absolutely my favourite essay out of the entire collection because of how raw it was and because of how hard it hit me personally. Honestly, that’s also one of the main reasons why I liked They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us so much. Hanif has a perfect mix of actuality and emotion, and that’s one of the many reasons why his work was so popular and favoured to this day.
As I’ve expressed before, I really enjoy Hanif’s work and the thought that he’s put into all of the essays that he has written and compiled into TCKUUTKU. I did really enjoy reflecting on his work again and writing pieces based off of his own style, even if it can be a little tough to replicate his format completely and entirely in all of its accuracy. I had fun with these, especially being able to include my own critiques and emotions instead of an entirely research based essay like I’ve become so used to focusing on this semester. These have been a healthy break from those strenuous essays that have become something that I dread so much. All in all, I think I’m pretty happy with these They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us imitation essays, and I think I’ve learned a fair bit from studying Hanif’s work on its own. His in-depth explanations and detailed ekphrastic phrases have been an inspiration to aspects of my own writing, and I hope to continue to reflect what I’ve learned from reading his pieces.
“The Magic Circle.” Tate Modern, Tate Modern, www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/waterhouse-the-magic-circle-n01572.
“Van Gogh: Into the Undergrowth.” Cincinnati Art Museum, www.cincinnatiartmuseum.org/vangogh.
Abdurraqib, Hanif. They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us, Two Dollar Radio, 2017. ProQuest Ebook Central,
https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.cc.opal-libraries.org/lib/columart-ebooks/detail.action?d ocID=5188029.
So there I was, the night before the field trip, trying to decide if I should go or not. Yeah, it doesn’t sound like a big deal as I’m writing this right now, but I really wanted to go to this stupid museum. I wanted it more than anything at the time, and something in my head was telling me I really needed to experience it. It was funny, though, because I have been to this museum countless times. I used to take classes there and I would just be allowed to roam and check out all of the artwork while I was at it, so it’s not like I would be missing anything super groundbreaking if I didn’t go. Yet, for some reason, I was just really set on the idea of going. And let me remind you, I felt miserable. I felt really awful. Knowing I wasn’t contagious (according to the doctors), I finally settled on forcing myself on the trip. Again, this doesn’t sound like a big deal, but doing very simple tasks such as brushing my teeth was strenuous for me at this time because I was so damn depressed. As well as this, I was having panic attacks that would leave me incapable of speaking or moving so I was deeply afraid to go anywhere other than my room. Even because of this, I went. I don’t know why, but I went.
I don’t really remember getting there, nor walking through the museum because my brain was just a puddle of mush in my head at the time. What I do remember, though, is standing in front of this painting. Undergrowth with Two Figures by Vincent Van Gogh. I had no clue that Van Gogh’s work was going to be in the museum, and he was my favourite artist at the time (I know, cliche right. I’m an art student and my favourite artist is Van Gogh! Go figure). I was drawn to his struggles, I guess. The Cincinnati Art Museum’s website says, "In May 1890 Vincent van Gogh left the asylum at Saint-Rémy for Auvers-sur-Oise, a small village north of Paris which he described as ‘Edenic.’ On July 27 he shot himself, dying two days later. The myth of the suffering artist, whose madness enabled him to transcend the limitations of art, has colored perceptions of him ever since. Van Gogh himself noted that bouts of madness only spurred him to work during his periods of sanity; during his final months at Auvers he painted nearly one canvas a day.” This piece was painted in his final days at the asylum at Saint-Rémy, picturing the garden where he sat and watched and waited. I don’t really know why, but I cried when I stood in front of this painting. Not a lot, but I cried. I felt his pain. I felt his longing for clarity or death. Looking back, I was so fragile at the time. I was so lost and the only thing that life promised me at the time was death. Nothing else was certain. But what I found certain, though, was my love for this painting. And my passion for art. My passion for the depiction of my own surroundings and thoughts at the time. I feel like every artist has this weird sort of awakening, so I guess it kind of makes sense in a way.
Reflection
For these They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us imitation pieces, I focused mostly on the way Hanif brings a piece of art/music and brings it back to relate to his own passions and experiences. To be honest, I had no idea for a while there about what the hell to write about in the beginning of this project. I’m so burnt out by school and existence and writing that typing my own texts zaps me of any energy I’ve managed to gather. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed writing these essays because I realized I honestly forgot about my own passion for art during the pandemic. Even though essays haven’t been my favourite thing to write this semester (due to lack of motivation and inspiration), I had fun writing these They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us imitation pieces. I’ve become so detached with viewing and making art for pleasure, and for myself. I’m so used to creating art for grades now that it has become something that I haven’t felt super connected with anymore. Reflecting back on what I love and my own passion for art and writing has kind of put things in perspective for me again, which was much needed.
I tried to emulate Section II, “Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die” as best as I could with Hanif’s formatting because it was absolutely my favourite essay in They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us because of the genuine impact it had on me. I really felt myself drawn to Hanif’s words and the points he made, as well as his ability to trace his words back to his own experiences and dealings in life. I focused more on this essay on my second piece rather than my first. For my first imitation piece, I tried to focus less on my own experiences with the painting and more of how it made me feel from viewing it from afar and without being able to really perceive it physically. I suppose my first piece more accurately emulates “The Night Prince Walked on Water” rather than the other in that sense.
I tried to focus my second imitation piece more on myself and my own personal experiences and feelings, even if they weren’t as groundbreaking as Hanif’s. I wanted to imitate “Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die” more in that sense, and also because I enjoy writing in this way much more than writing something filled to the brim with facts rather than filled to the brim with emotions. I think this is another reason why I enjoyed “Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die” so much, as Hanif doesn’t focus on just facts. It’s more of an emotion/experience based essay, which is what I find myself being way more drawn to. It was absolutely my favourite essay out of the entire collection because of how raw it was and because of how hard it hit me personally. Honestly, that’s also one of the main reasons why I liked They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us so much. Hanif has a perfect mix of actuality and emotion, and that’s one of the many reasons why his work was so popular and favoured to this day.
As I’ve expressed before, I really enjoy Hanif’s work and the thought that he’s put into all of the essays that he has written and compiled into TCKUUTKU. I did really enjoy reflecting on his work again and writing pieces based off of his own style, even if it can be a little tough to replicate his format completely and entirely in all of its accuracy. I had fun with these, especially being able to include my own critiques and emotions instead of an entirely research based essay like I’ve become so used to focusing on this semester. These have been a healthy break from those strenuous essays that have become something that I dread so much. All in all, I think I’m pretty happy with these They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us imitation essays, and I think I’ve learned a fair bit from studying Hanif’s work on its own. His in-depth explanations and detailed ekphrastic phrases have been an inspiration to aspects of my own writing, and I hope to continue to reflect what I’ve learned from reading his pieces.
“The Magic Circle.” Tate Modern, Tate Modern, www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/waterhouse-the-magic-circle-n01572.
“Van Gogh: Into the Undergrowth.” Cincinnati Art Museum, www.cincinnatiartmuseum.org/vangogh.
Abdurraqib, Hanif. They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us, Two Dollar Radio, 2017. ProQuest Ebook Central,
https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.cc.opal-libraries.org/lib/columart-ebooks/detail.action?d ocID=5188029.