Whether you hold his work near and dear to your heart or have only heard his name incidentally, David Lynch’s reach across art and culture is undeniable. He was one of a kind, an innovator of cinema and storytelling, and his passing weighs heavily on the art community’s heart.
My first encounter with Lynch was through his cult classic film “Mulholland Drive” (2001). One summer night a few years back, I dove in blind — simply craving something visually immersive — and ended up completely enamored by one of the greatest works of art I’ve encountered. I am often drawn to stories like this one, where it’s difficult to discern whether what I’m seeing is actually happening or if I’ve been sucked into some alternate dimension. “Mulholland Drive” was my introduction to the intricacies of Lynch’s genius: his incomparable ability to weave a seamless narrative of fantastical dreams.
Though he has explored several other mediums such as painting, mixed media, photography, and music, Lynch is most well-known for his surrealist interpretations of life portrayed in film. Throughout his nearly 60-year career, he defied everything known to be true about the boundaries of genre, and his unusual storytelling resonated with audiences everywhere. Lynch’s filmography varies greatly, from his noir first feature film “Eraserhead” (1977) to his adaptation of critically acclaimed Frank Hubert novel “Dune” (1984), as well as his dreamier works like “Blue Velvet” (1986) and “Twin Peaks” (1990-91, 2017).
It is nearly impossible to categorize these feats of filmmaking when you consider how diverse Lynch’s body of work really is. Novelist David Foster Wallace even coined the term “Lynchian” to describe that which resembles the quality of his art, but what does this mean exactly? What characteristics tie such drastically different pieces together?
In all of Lynch’s projects, there are bizarre, abstract, and mysterious elements at play. If you think you’re following what’s happening, think again. Lynch constantly pushed back against monotony and conformity in his everyday life, which his work reflected. As a result, his art evokes a spectrum of reactions, ranging anywhere from frustration and dismissal of the nonsense to utter captivation and inspiring a craving for more clarity.
In a 2015 interview with the Queensland Gallery of Modern Art, Lynch offered this explanation of what his films really mean: “People have a right to analyze the thing, say what it is for them, and to criticize it one way or another. It’s beautiful, but I really believe the film should stand on its own, and there should be nothing added, nothing subtracted. That’s sort of the way it is.” Lynch was notorious for never giving a straight answer in this way; either you got it, or you didn’t. It is precisely this trust he had in his projects that makes them so special, even years later.
The dream-like state captured in many of his films came not from an active effort but the ideas floating about in his subconscious. In his book, “Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity,” Lynch gave insight into this process, sharing that he allows ideas to speak to him rather than searching for them. It is these sparks of a concept that he built on to portray the truth about what he feels. Perhaps this is why we will never fully understand his intentions — perhaps he didn’t even know them himself.
I myself have fallen down many Lynchian rabbit holes, hunting desperately for answers that I likely will never find. Even with a work as complex as “Mulholland Drive,” a frantic psychoanalysis can often lead you somewhere — just never a final, concrete assertion. By leaving interpretations in the hands of the viewers, Lynch allowed us to mold it to our own understanding. There is no singular meaning throughout all his art, but rather infinite conclusions we can come to about the work and ourselves.
On Lynch’s YouTube channel, he had a series titled, “What is David Working on Today?” In one of these videos, he shared that he was making an iPhone holder out of wood. Products like this have already been perfected by experts and are available for purchase at any store, which begs the question of why he would want to create his own. As if reading our minds, he tells us exactly why: “It’s so much fun to build our own things and solve the problems and figure out a way to do it on our own.” Lynch’s commitment to truth and the process is a testament to his remarkable legacy. It is an honor to engage with his work and his mind, and there will never be another quite like him.
