Showing posts with label art criticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art criticism. Show all posts

Monday, January 21, 2013

Contemporary Artists Philosophy

This post has to do with art students and those who hold art degrees. There's a lot of rambling and wandering, but I get to my point. I've felt for a long time that I should put my philosophy into words, because many people say that it “blows their mind” to hear me speak about it. But when I personally consider it, it is elusive and esoteric. This was very difficult to write, but I think my points come through in the end.

I believe that someone should always stay abreast of what is going on in their world. It is your world, you must know what is happening in it in order to be relevant. I do not believe an artist can be successful, in their own eyes nor the eyes of others, without at least reading the newspaper.

That is not to say that all artists need to be social. Joseph Cornell, who made some of the most beautiful artwork I have ever seen, was a notorious recluse. This, however, did not stop him from falling in madly love with one of art's queens of self promotion: Yayoi Kusama. He had to be connected to the New York art scene in some facet in order to meet her.

Wonderfully alluring things can come from reclusive artists, but they are always innovative works, and not works that draw heavily on tradition. Art brut, the lovechild of the '90s, works in this manner; however many of art brut's saviors were mentally insane and were not only “reclusive” but also institutionalized.

So, art must come from either the point of view of someone who thinks deeply about his own culture and how to translate its symbols and philosophies into a meaningful, critical visual language, or it comes from someone who is entirely removed from it and creates a visual language that is entirely his own. Either way, great art is always innovative.

I do believe that while art should be informed by the traditions of its predecessors, one must deviate from their forms in order to be successful. It cannot be denied that we live in the 21st Century, and beautiful drawings executed in a renaissance style, while extraordinarily aesthetically pleasing, do not apply to our culture in the same way that the applied to that of Florence in the 1500s.

I have a fundamental disagreement that schools that emphasize the academic traditions of art, and the students who follow their pedagogy to a t, are not relevant artists today. Many county colleges are guilty of taking this narrow view of aesthetically pleasing art, but also some true “art schools” never hold classes that help their students to escape this box that they are bound into: where portraiture is revered and printmaking reviled as a craft, and not a tradition (even if the school has both of these departments as majors, it is often well known within the student body of which department has more clout).

I do believe that a beautiful drawing can be relevant if executed in an innovative manner. The same can be said of portraiture, and of paintings. However, I find that these traditional meetings often hinder artists who are taught only of their tradition, and not of their possibilities, by which I mean, not being exposed to the ways in which contemporary artists are using and mutilating the mediums.

I feel as if I am loosing my thread. There are exceptions to the groundwork I have laid down. A painting or drawing can be relevant, and it does not have to be made by someone who is entirely informed. I will say again, my point is regarding innovation. One cannot expect to paint portraits in a manner that they have been painted for hundreds of years and to then be accepted into the cannon of art.

Even if what an artist strives for is not to necessarily be accepted into the cannon, I feel it is important for their work to be innovative. And with regards to those who study art in today's schools, it is indelibly important for artists involved in that world to understand and appreciate modern and contemporary art. I would argue so far as the schools have a duty to instill this appreciation in their pupils, although perhaps appreciation is the incorrect verbiage  Students at least must be aware, and active participants of, this world.

My fear is that today's students are going to go on creating new ways of painting and sculpture and what have you with their own philosophies only to later figure out that their particular framework has already been approached by another artist. This is something that I believe will certainly happen if artists are not conscious of the modern and contemporary art world. Artists who are pushed through artistic institutions in order to attain their degrees must have a dialogue concerning the world around them, and know what has come before them, in order to make work that is truly reflective of their current culture, which is what all art should strive for in order to be truly successful.

I would think this argument has been made before, but I am continually astonished at how many people I preach this to tell me that they have never thought of things this way before. That they're amazed at how I've thought so much about this topic as to have a strong opinion on it. 

Often, I hear that one does not have the funds for a subscription to The Burlington or ArtForum. I personally stay abreast of events in contemporary art through blogs. While I often worry that I am not getting enough of a dosage of art criticism and only seeing tidbits of news by doing this, I must say that Hyperallergic and Art21 are wonderully informative and filled with criticism not only on new shows, but on the state of the art world today and new trends, as well as many comparative analyses on contemporary artists.

So, to all my friends who are burgeoning artists: I encourage you to read voraciously, attend new exhibitions and museums, not only to inform your own practice, but to stimulate your visual vocabulary and perhaps even provide inspiration for your own work. I encourage you to read about artists, especially the ones you hate (I'm currently trying to get through a book on Renoir). Even if you hate their style, if you hear their name enough to know that they are relevant to you, you should at least make an attempt to understand why.

These are the tenements by which I approach art. I constantly think about it and consider new works that I come across. Although I live in Philadelphia, I believe that we have a vibrant art scene, and am striving for our city to have hows that equally as noteworthy as what is exhibited in New York, and I long to see our city as a place of a innovation in a list of the must see galleries. I do not expect everyone to hold this view, but I would be happy to argue with anyone who thinks that it is possible to work only within traditional mediums, traditional frameworks, and relative isolation, and come up with a work that is sincerely culturally reflexive and thereby successful (within what I acknowledge would possibly constitute a rather narrow framework for some).

Friday, December 16, 2011

Art Cars are strange, and if you like Jeff Koons, stay away from this post.

To those who regularly read this blog, all 10 of you: I'm going to start posting some writing here. It's to sharpen my art criticism skillz. I'll be writing on everything from art trends to gallery shows in Philly to why the gum on my shoe kind of looks like Mona Lisa. So stay tuned.



I'm not sure if art cars are ever really taken seriously by the art community these days. Do they mean anything, or are they just playthings for rich people? Of course all art is to some extent, but with the brand BMW being shoved in my face, I seem to feel that art cars are a particular brand of art that takes inaccessibility to a whole new level.

That being said, some people do take art cars quite seriously. Collectors do, and apparently the V & A does.




Artists do. It seems as if Frank Stella certainly cared about his car, and examined the artists that made cars before him. And there are certainly some cars that I consider more successful than others. Based on my own specific judgements, I really want these art cars to do 2 things:

1) Exhibit the specific style of the artist. Be definitively by them.
2) Make me question what a car is and all of my presumptions about them.

One car that I love is this 2007 piece by Olafur Eliasson. It does both of those things.



The second one is probably the harder and loftier expectation of the two. But up on hearing the phrase "art car" I can't help but think that's what it should do! Art makes you question what you knew before.

With that intro, I have to say that the newest addition to the BMW art car line, by my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE ARTIST (so much sarcasm there) Jeffrey Koons, fails MISERABLY at that second expectation.

Here, have a looksie.



First off: you look like a complete ass in that picture, Jeff Koons, but I wouldn't expect any less of you. In fact, I couldn't expect any less if I tried. You painted what amounts to streaks of light on a car. It looks like a long exposure of lights. Long exposures, the epitome of American traffic photography, and certainly the first thing that came to my mind and your's when thinking about cars...I'm honestly sad you didn't think harder about this one, Jeff. I'm left unimpressed and unsatisfied.

It's unimaginative. It's as if BMW asked someone in middle-school to paint a car. However, it succeeds wildly on my first criteria set. It is very Koons. Koons is the epitome of kitsch, and I'll give the automobile that.

But it even pales in comparison to the pieces that Koons is best known for - his shiny phallic monstrous balloon animals. Like this one.



Reasons why the balloon animals are successful:

1) They are banal, which means they are postmodern. Koons' appreciation of banal subject matter is something that he derived from Claes Oldenburg and, of course, Duchamp. It's an attempt to give the banal new meaning, by...

2) Transforming the banal. It really does play with what you expect from a balloon animal. Quick: think of three adjectives that describe a balloon animal. Not this one, but a real one. It's flexible, bendable, soft, small. This is NONE of these things. And it takes the slight sheen of a balloon to an unprecedented level. On the expectation that art should challenge my expectations, I suppose it does succeed.

However, the reasons why I dislike the balloon animals so much go against exactly what Koons is trying to do. Mostly, my distate comes from the fact that it's so very sellable. Is Jeff Koons making art, or is he making a profit? Aren't they the same thing? In my ideal world I would argue "no," but Koons throws this in my face. The last list of this post, I promise:

Reasons why Koons' work is sellable:

1) Safe subject matter. Admittedly, this does mean banal subject matter. But it is still not a urinal. A urinal is banal, but still edgy enough. A balloon animal? Who doesn't like balloon animals?

2) It's nostalgic - a word that I am NOT looking for in contemporary art. It reminds people of their childhood, a happy time when they had a balloon animal - excuse me while I throw up. I don't need you to remind me of this, Jeff Koons. This is way too obvious of a reference. Again, he'll have to dig deeper than that to impress me.

3) It's shiny. People like seeing their reflection! It's true! And yet there is some mirror art that is successful - Pistoletto is a favorite of mine. But Pistoletto challenges what you expect from a mirror and plays with you as a viewer when you see his work, while making you more aware of what surrounds you, rather than giving you a moment to focus on yourself (aka the traditional purpose of mirrors). Jeff Koons simply reflects you in a...

4) Phallic object (you knew that word was in this post). Sex sells, it's true, and NO ONE knows better than Jeff Koons. I once saw Jeff Koons give a talk, and as a sort of nervous tick, at the end of every slide of his work he would add "and that's the phallus there," or "and I suppose it is a bit phallic." Literally, every work of his has a penis in it. And just in case you didn't know he painted a giant photorealistic penis, he is very, very happy to tell you he did.

In conclusion, my theory on why Jeff Koons' most popular works are such and sell well is because they're sexual reflections of the buyer disguised as something safe and nostalgic. While the dichotomy of the two is interesting, I feel that most don't see very much beyond the surface of "shiny object that I like and makes me feel powerful but I can't quite figure out why." I feel sad for anyone who can't see through that thin veil. I'm sure there are buyers who do realize it, but honestly, nowadays with Koons' popularity, no contemporary art collection is complete without a balloon animal. Hell, I'm devoting my first art criticism blog post to Koons. No matter how much I dislike the man, he is doing something right.

But this is where the art car goes all wrong. Yes, it's safe and kitschy, but it stops there. I suppose it is shiny, but it's nothing compared to the high-gloss surfaces of the balloon animals. It doesn't play with my perception of a car - rather, it reinforces it and throws it in my face, but not in a way that makes me step back and go "huh."

It sort of reminds me of the most recent Claes Oldenburg sculpture here in Philly. I used to live near it and I had to walk by it all the time. It was commissioned by the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Supposedly, Oldenburg came up with the idea himself, though I feel like his factory - much like Koons' factory - probably did most of it for him. To his credit, though, he was there the day the sculpture was erected. But really, Oldenburg? I know that you are known for banality, but you put a giant paintbrush at an art school. It's not thought-provoking. It's very pop, but in the worst way. It doesn't play with my perception at all.




I suppose in the end my biggest problem with Koons' art car, and Oldenburg's sculpture, is that neither of them are original ideas. And they're not banal enough to make me say "okay okay I get it postmodernism yadda yadda." They're just...there. And I cringe at what little brain power successful artists have to exude, because they have constant adoration and hardly anyone questions them any more. At least, no one in the immediate group around them. There are of course dissident critics like me - and Koons is certainly one of the most hotly criticized artists - but it's because certain works of his push the envelope enough for a backlash. The problem is that his art car doesn't do that. It just makes me bored enough to leave the room.
Enhanced by Zemanta