I understand diplomacy, more or less. I’m aware that when criticizing the art establishment’s orthodoxy, a little trepidation is in order, but I’ve got none. It’s the freedom of the unsanctioned, to say or paint whatever you want. Was fascinated years ago to discover any obscenity could be screamed in central park and the cop just looks off, no one covers the children’s ears, no one notices. Scream until you’re tired, we don’t mind, no detention, no civil penalties -- it’s only art.
That’s not the way I look at it. Along with fascism and communism there’s our brand of commercialism, seemingly more benign but with warts of its own. People here even put a dollar value on themselves, annual income with a little bump for aspiration, and generally believe that price equals value. Hustlers abound. This perpetual consumer frenzy is manipulated from above by a cabal of the greatest minds in retail, or the it’s the inevitable moral atrophy that accompanies golden-calf materialism, makes no difference. Art plays its part. Cutting edge in uptown galleries becomes next year’s trendy advertising, finally to be reflected in the signage at the discount store ten years on, strictly part of the enterprise.
Change the art, change the world, is all I’m saying. Oh we could make them rewrite the tax laws, stop the one-per centers from resolving millions in liability with bogus contributions to museums, underwriting ultra-progressive granting foundations, such as that, but we don’t have the weight, can’t field the army. We can scream until we’re tired but they just won’t do it. So much easier to say ‘try looking at something else. Time to think differently about art.’ Damien Hirst’s shark floating in formaldehyde is decomposing, still worth millions I suppose, want to sit and stare? All that elitist sophistication is beginning to rot as well, so sad.
Who’s the best painter in town, the town you’re in? Do they aspire to stardom far away, your little town their stepping stone, or are they some neighbor who for whatever reason feels a need and desire to express themselves with paint? Is the work you’ve seen so far beginning to seem familiar, are they getting better, do you notice a new piece? Maybe there’s another artist you like more, a relative or a friend at work. There must be quite a few painters around, right now, wherever you happen to be. They’re making doorways that lead out, fresh air, sunshine, for themselves, mostly, and for you if you buy their work.
That’s not the way I look at it. Along with fascism and communism there’s our brand of commercialism, seemingly more benign but with warts of its own. People here even put a dollar value on themselves, annual income with a little bump for aspiration, and generally believe that price equals value. Hustlers abound. This perpetual consumer frenzy is manipulated from above by a cabal of the greatest minds in retail, or the it’s the inevitable moral atrophy that accompanies golden-calf materialism, makes no difference. Art plays its part. Cutting edge in uptown galleries becomes next year’s trendy advertising, finally to be reflected in the signage at the discount store ten years on, strictly part of the enterprise.
Change the art, change the world, is all I’m saying. Oh we could make them rewrite the tax laws, stop the one-per centers from resolving millions in liability with bogus contributions to museums, underwriting ultra-progressive granting foundations, such as that, but we don’t have the weight, can’t field the army. We can scream until we’re tired but they just won’t do it. So much easier to say ‘try looking at something else. Time to think differently about art.’ Damien Hirst’s shark floating in formaldehyde is decomposing, still worth millions I suppose, want to sit and stare? All that elitist sophistication is beginning to rot as well, so sad.
Who’s the best painter in town, the town you’re in? Do they aspire to stardom far away, your little town their stepping stone, or are they some neighbor who for whatever reason feels a need and desire to express themselves with paint? Is the work you’ve seen so far beginning to seem familiar, are they getting better, do you notice a new piece? Maybe there’s another artist you like more, a relative or a friend at work. There must be quite a few painters around, right now, wherever you happen to be. They’re making doorways that lead out, fresh air, sunshine, for themselves, mostly, and for you if you buy their work.
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