Conversation with . . .

Conversation with... This is a discussion about public art which began with a Facebook posting by Ide Bouldin advocating for public art in Lexington, citing the Picasso sculpture in Chicago as an example. This began an exchange about public perception vs. artist’s intentions, the role of public art, and art in general.

Ide Bouldin July 5 at 3:17pm

I got a chance to check out your blog. The beauty and the plight of the post-modern era is the ability to assign individualized meaning to a piece of art, which is why I say it doesn't matter what the hell Picasso did or didn't mean to imply. And with something so monumental, it serves as a icon to those who interact with it. With time, it begins to reflect the meanings placed upon it to form a social identity. Before you know it, it is such an integral aspect of the area that it begins to be used as a landmark when people give directions. That's why I love public art. Don't get me wrong, I'm a painter by nature, but you don't see kids laughing and playing on something hanging in a corner of a museum. I have fond memories of afternoons spent in its shadow, and for some, playing on its base might be their most treasured, or even their earliest memory. It provides wonder, entertainment, way-finding, a unique component of the city's individuality, and even shelters the homeless. That's powerful, and negates any snarky symbolism by becoming iconic in and of itself.

Clay Wainscott July 5 at 4:14pm

So when you see kids crawling over a tank or an old fighter plane in the park might as well be gym equipment -- who cares it was designed for death. Maybe. Snarky symbolism is a lot of what twentieth century art was about, and negating it through familiarity turns it into just more clutter. Reverence for meaning has been systematically discredited in the market and academy for self-serving reasons, but without it Picasso and a lot of the rest turn into nothing more than trading tokens. The first time I saw it, it near froze my heart, and I wouldn't choose it as my emblem, and some in Chicago have thought twice.

Beyond that, I'm troubled by a disregard of content in favor of context, not just in this but in a most general sort of way. Picasso's unruly nature aside, he made an incredibly powerful piece of art which may mean something entirely different a couple of centuries down the line, and he should get credit for it from artists, even if the general public prefers to have picnics there. It is a convenient location.

Ide Bouldin July 5 at 7:00pm

I would say that defunct military equipment is the antithesis of monumental sculpture. And I think familiarity gives it character, not clutter. The whole point of art is to evoke a mental reaction, and the strength of that reaction translates to the reverence held for it. The only difference now is that no one is telling you how it must make you feel, which actually can serve to deepen the viewer's appreciation.

And I wouldn't say that content and context are mutually exclusive. Content is context in its most pure form, and in art it can be masterfully blended together. Content is derived from the interpretation of inspiration, which catalyzes the creation of the work, and therefore it is the ultimate context; it is the very reason for its existence. Vice versa, context allows for the creation of new and evolving content. Say I proposed to my fiancée there; then our context for that location would carry a far more significant sense of emotional content. Follow what I mean?

Clay Wainscott July 5 at 8:01pm

This is exactly the kind of discussion I'd like to have on the blog where others who are specifically interested would at least have a chance at it. May want to transfer it over with your permission. Actually, it's the kind of discussion I'd like to see happen anywhere in public -- so much more productive than all that churning about public funding.

Defunct military equipment might be the antithesis of monumental sculpture, but it serves the same function in small town parks every direction. I'm curious about this no one who doesn't tell us what to think, anymore, and wonder who had that authority before. The ultimate freedom to personally interpret sounds a bit abstract, like the privatized referential structure of abstract expressionism -- an intentional denial of access. Art, some say, and this might be a fundamental difference, is about contact and community -- a shared level of consciousness between artist and viewer. Simply provoking a mental reaction is a rather low bar to cross, although it passes as art these days.

Art becomes more significant when something is recognized, in the art or in oneself, probably both at once, that had been deeply forgotten, or maybe never known before. I'm the first to say that emotional connections to art are among the most important reasons for owning original art, but it doesn't change the art. It makes a compelling statement or it doesn't.

Ide Bouldin July 6 at 1:22am

I agree this is a productive, enlightening conversation, and have no problem with you transferring it to your blog so others might read and weigh in on it. As I've told you, I'm way more philosophical than practical; theory is where I live, and now that I am re-reading this massive message, I see you've awakened the beast. I would only ask that if you decide to edit it in any way before you post it, that you email me a word document with your edits highlighted so that I might have the same opportunity to fine-tune.

I agree that defunct military equipment might come to serve a similar function as public art, but I still feel we are comparing apples to oranges. If Public Art is an upshot and extension of the art museum, then the public display of this type of equipment constitutes a 'history museum without walls,' if you will. Once again, this is an overlap of content and context. I can't say I support it, but if Jeff Koons took the tank out at veterans park, and found a way to stand it on its barrel, it would be hailed as a masterpiece.

However, the public display of these war machines actually comes much closer to the function Public Art served historically than any fountain, figural, or abstracted installation. Public Art has always served to legitimize the authority of those in power; it was propaganda through and through. The more ruthless the ruler, the grander the scale. So, while Ludovico Sforza wasn't directly telling people to respect the political and martial authority he wielded over the state, the giant equestrian statue he commissioned from Leonardo was carefully calculated to convey that very message subconsciously. Even then, it was all about contact and community, but the most interesting aspects of the Picasso we were discussing are the artist's thought process (or context), as well as our varied interpretations of it's subject (or content). This is like the Pollock factor we discussed at Natasha's.

I agree that artwork and interpretation are interdependent; quite often in my academic writing I refer to this relationship as a 'collaborative conversation.' The individualized wiggle-room of mental association is what makes art not only successful, but possible in the first place. I can't gauge the way Jeff Koons impacts you emotionally any more than you can measure the reverence I have for the Madonna of the Rocks. That's why I subscribe to the Duchampian mode of thought, that art is not some hallowed object; my precious Madonna of the Rocks is nothing more than dried viscous goo smeared (however deftly) over taught linen which is held in place by carpet tacks. Art is what happens within the mind of the viewer when they have that indescribable transcendent moment of appreciation. Since we all operate according to different mental specs, I can't define successful art for anyone besides myself. Sure, because of my studio background I can say Koons is lazy, credit-assuming middle-management, but I don't have the ability or right to declare his work is artistically bankrupt, however much I may believe it.

Here is an excerpt of my paper entitled "Contemporary Reality" discussing the criteria for value assessment:

Baundrillard goes on to state there are four criteria for appraising the value of an object. However, the functionality, economic or exchange value, symbolic value, and systematic value are derived from the needs, or indeed the perceived needs of the individual as he relates to his version of reality. Take the penny with its standardized monetary value of one cent. Actually, the modest coin is an example of bas relief sculpture, and features the bust of a man with a far more distinguished repertoire than the subject of Warhol’s Jackie (previously discussed in the paper as capitalizing on extrinsic value), thereby containing at least as much inherent symbolic value. Within the monetary system, it defines one of two absolutes as the lowest denomination available, thereby setting the parameters of the entire financial system. Conversely, to the man trapped in an air-tight room it is worthless - unless he is able to use it as a screwdriver to loosen the screw which secures the window, allowing him to access indispensable oxygen; now that penny is invaluable. Compounding this paradox is the fact that the physical structure of the penny was altered once during World War II due to necessity, and again in 1981 due to the relative value of copper. So, who determines the value of that penny: or should I say 'Penny?'

Just as the painter might see art in the way the lines of the sidewalk provide a template for linear perspective, the one who laid that same sidewalk sees art in the smoothness and consistency of its surface. That is the future of art, and it stems from grand-scale societal awareness on an individualized level. Art is historical precedent, groundbreaking innovation, psychological association, and philosophical implication; art is the beauty of physics, the wonder of mathematics, the elation of action and reaction distilled into a single transitory moment of clarity which encapsulates the ineffable perfection of creation.

Clay Wainscott July 6 at 11:04am

The difference between a tank and an equestrian statue is interesting. In a certain respect they serve the same function down at the park, but the aesthetic derives from a different direction. Ultimate practicality is how I’d like to have my tank designed, and pretty is as pretty does if it keeps its occupants alive in dangerous situations. Aside from the fact that used military equipment is easy to come by when the national guard is through with it, as sculpture it’s impressive and patriotic – a ready-made if there ever was one. Compared to a chrome puppy, and much as I dislike war, the sloping sides and dull, velvety finish of an old Sherman seems sort of friendly. Koons arouses revulsion in me, and if that’s the point, I guess he’s successful. Might be apples and oranges, but not sure where to draw the line.

You’re emphasizing the viewer side of it, in a thoroughly modern way, as though the reaction of the person looking was more important than the intention of the artist, and historically this is different. Understandable in an epic in which inherent significance is an inconvenience, or laughable, in which technical ability is considered a handicap, and in which each work of art is meaningless outside of a tangle of career vectors, market precedents, and advertising expenditures. Although this is where our wandering dialectic has brought us, it’s a structure built on flimsy foundations. If, one day, someone were to say, ‘why, all this Warhol paper is just crap’, billions would leak away just like that. I safely predict this will happen, but can’t say when. Wish it was yesterday.

Art forms don’t translate directly, but aesthetic values generalize nicely. In musical terms, the abstract expressionists were pot-bangers, and Warhol produced advertising jingles. Personally, I don’t find art to be that easy. Duchamp, and Warhol after him, decided to democratize art production, mostly as a strategy to cover their own mediocre graphic abilities one suspects, but the tactic had far reaching collateral effect. The emergence of bebop jazz as a pure art form, supported by a knowledgeable and aware public, from paying-dues commercial dance music is a model for aesthetic seriousness among a population we habitually condescend to. Technical ability and emotional eloquence met a thirst for expression no one suspected was there. Contemporary art has appropriated and conceptualized itself out to a white noise punctuated by occasional blue sparks and smoke as another shock becomes blasé. Novelty, as the primary driving force in art, yields diminishing returns by and by.

I find I generally hold art and artists in much higher regard than my school-trained contemporaries. I imagine Picasso, should our culture continue, will be in a pantheon with Michelangelo, et al, in a couple of centuries, and his piece in Chicago could come in time to stand for him. It will certainly last the longest – way more than the Parthenon. “Everyone famous for fifteen minutes” is flat out the negation of meaningful accomplishment for anyone on any level, and it’s morally revolting. Andy’s dictum demeans art, it demeans humanity, and just because there was an enormous appetite for degrading experience back during the eighties is no reason not to consider it in the larger context of art – all nations, all centuries available to everyone free on Saturdays. Commercial bonanza aside, Andy’s stuff looks seriously meager. I’ll suggest it isn’t just the past that thinks so – some part of the future feels the same way.

Clay Wainscott July 7 at 1:04am

I take some things for granted in conversation, and should have started talking about contemporary art more directly, sooner. It would probably be helpful to say I believe what gets printed in the NY papers from time to time -- essentially that contemporary art has inbred itself down to imbecility, or pointlessness. If that seems a plausible position to you, we might keep talking -- coffee might be in order when no interview is involved. I would much enjoy the notion that other people might like to be involved -- discussing, or listening and asking questions, but don't expect too much.

Ide Bouldin July 7 at 7:49pm

It's not that I hold the viewer in a higher regard than the artist; quite the contrary, I believe one can't exist without the other. It is natural that the viewer dictates how the artist's widespread success is measure, but it's regrettable that many don't look much deeper. Leonardo gave my young mind a model for growth, and I strive to have the depth of knowledge he had in the breadth of subjects which captivated him. You should see my sketchbooks. Van Gogh taught me to tell the nay sayers to fuck off, because passion dictates success, and even if it your first show is staged and still mocked years after your death, history lauds the faithfully diligent. More importantly, Dali taught me how images serve the concept, which in turn serves the artist as it services the viewer, not to mention how the combination of intelligence, sarcasm and gravitas can open the world to you.

I really dug your music analogy, and completely agree with your assessment and parallels. I think the NYC critic (whose name escapes me) summed it up pretty well when he left Jasper Johns' first show and said it signaled the death of illusion, and painting as a whole. Maybe death is harsh, but damn, it has been on life support for a while now.

And I think the statement "Ultimate practicality is how I’d like to have my tank designed..." made my day.

If you're still interested, I'd love to have coffee and discuss this stuff further. I'm always up for a good conversation. Oh, speaking of which, I always seem to bring precedent in to art conversations; I am an art historian. The past is prologue, and even when the present denies and tries to escape what came before it, it's still referencing it in one way or another. I was talking to a sociologist the other day, and made a correlation between the Lascaux cave paintings and bathroom graffiti =)