low expectations -- truth unclaimed

Rauschenberg, famously, asked DeKooning for a drawing so he could erase it. At first DeKooning demurs, but after enough ardent persuasion to give the story a little punch, he says ok, go ahead, you can have the drawing I made this morning of my terrible hangover. Rauschenberg erases it, so he says, and presents the blank paper as a work of art which some rich collector surely owns to this day, proudly displaying the empty frame. I wouldn’t want to say what this reveals, but it is an example of just the naked idea, just as the artist intended, without an inch of fine stitching to back it up. Insanely clever, what?

It’s just a little thin is all. So much of art these days is. Problematic since even the astutely clever tires quickly, just as humor in art begins to fade by the second time it’s encountered. It’s all going to be ok if the art is changed out on a regular basis, passing fancies, white hot trends, the way the press, which isn’t a press at all, portrays serious art. I’m not saying it’s a racket, perhaps just overly entrepreneurial, the way the advertising intertwines with infomercial-journalism to boost high end consumption, but it’s a rarified aesthetic of blind acceptance and a deep desire for social ascension that gives them lift.

I kid, and no one’s offended. Over my head is the simple explanation, but that isn’t exactly it. I cling to the archaic notion that visual art ought to be primarily visual, in through the visual apparatus, decoded and considered in the fifty percent of our brain devoted to sight. I don’t care about linages and derivations, or an echo chamber of urbane cult code -- I need to see it. Visual art is supposed to be visual, and social-scold titles and pages of foggy rationale won’t prop up a mess. On the other hand folks these days don’t expect much, they hardly look. Many would prefer to read the tag on the wall, listen to the explanation in the headset, while the eyes fail to focus. This is the legacy of Duchamp, and the way art is taught and talked about these days. 

Why this is so is hard to say, although the tribe of the ‘culturally elite’ like to keep their passwords hidden behind the dollar signs in uptown galleries. No one needs to be like them. No one needs to be like them. Look at the art instead. Understand there are artists in your hometown with more to say and who say it better than the super expensive less-than-personal art available in those upscale major-metro tourist strolls they call gallery districts. Actually making and looking at art is by golly more interesting than calculating emerging investment potentials or trying to impress snooty friends.

If you look at enough art you’ll know when to be impressed, and ‘also owned’ by a celebrity or some big prestigious corporate entity won’t mean so much. Even after looking a lot, sometimes an artist does something unexpected with color and line, creates an image unique and full of charm, can’t explain it. Ask the price. Learning about art is fine, but looking at art forges a respect for human communion and achievement, an affirmation of self and personal judgement, and a sudden interest in who’s been saying what above the din of false promises and for-profit lies on the evening news.