Lost cause

Acclaimed digital artist Jeremy Blake halted his own rapid ascension

Sometimes it’s hard to pinpoint the moment you notice an artist’s work. I can’t tell you when I first saw a Picasso. I have no idea when Jackson Pollock became a cultural reference point for me. In some ways, it’s as if I’ve always known about them. The same cannot be said for the art of Jeremy Blake. 

It was September 2002, and I’d been waiting rather impatiently for the release of Beck’s “Sea Change.” I knew I’d pick up a copy as soon as I could, but I wasn’t prepared to have four choices. In the tradition of Led Zeppelin’s 1979 album “In Through the Out Door” (six covers), Beck invited Blake—30 at the time—to create four different covers using a colorful digital technique that would become a trademark. I bought all four. 

A few months later, I noticed an eerily similar visual motif in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Punch-Drunk Love.” Anderson hired Blake to create video interludes throughout the film, giving it a palette of sorts. 2002 was a big year for Blake. The next time I read about him, he was dead.

Born in Ft. Sill, Okla., in 1971, Blake lived a tumultuous life but graduated from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the California Institute of the Arts. Before he turned 30, his work was selected for the prestigious Whitney Biennial, organized by New York City’s Whitney Museum of American Art. With his use of new technology, Blake seemed to be on track to become one of the great American voices in 21st century art. 

The January 2008 cover of Vanity Fair blasted the shocking headline, “The New York Art World’s Bizarre Double Suicide.” It was in those pages, in a fascinating article (“The Golden Suicides”) by Nancy Jo Sales, that I first heard about Blake’s July 17, 2007 suicide and the suicide of his longtime partner, Theresa Duncan, a week earlier. I don’t have the space or talent to tell you the full story, but I urge you to read it. 

What stood out most to me was Blake’s and Duncan’s strong belief they were being harassed by Scientologists. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Although these facts might be unrelated, it’s worth noting that Beck is a lifelong Scientologist and Paul Thomas Anderson wrote and directed “The Master,” a fictionalized look at the life of Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard. Additionally, one of Scientology’s flagship drug rehab facilities—Narconon Arrowhead in Canadian, Okla.—was recently subject to several lawsuits and investigations following three deaths at
the facility. 

Blake’s story is tragic. We can wax poetic all day about the immortality of art, but I, for one, think more about the work we didn’t see than what remains. This is a not a new story, but Blake’s powerful presence lingers. You can catch one of his video installations playing in the lobby of Philbrook Downtown. I still listen to "Sea Change" often but rarely see the album cover. It’s a classic breakup record with sad songs that cut to the bone. My favorite track has always been “Lost Cause.” It’s the album’s only video to feature Blake’s work. The lyrics seem to be written just for him.

They know your secrets / and you know theirs

This town is crazy / nobody cares