the art of class struggle -- what's seen by who

The blog ‘owning art’ is really about class struggle, has been all along. We’re talking revolution, but not with guns and barricades -- it’s like a mental thing, an altered vision. As denizens of a small planet we’ve flogged materialism about as far as it wants to go, tearing up the landscape for short-term gain, enforcing our will with explosives, and imagining money was the most important thing. We find ourselves teetering at the edge of a gaping void with the momentum to go over. Religion has attempted to stay relevant and offer consolation, but delusional optimism expressed through cheesy rock lyrics just makes it all seem worse, and the sincere suburban dad in jeans who preaches vanilla self-satisfaction will be renewed for asses in the pews, not spiritual insight. Fads and gurus, diets and pills, nothing works. Sorry to spread the news, but the very structure of present society had better evolve in a hurry or it’s curtains for the lot of us.

A thoughtful person suggested that human societies began to evolve in an organic manner when the brain became so large that childbirth became problematic, physical evolution having reached its limit. If we track the progress of humankind over the last three millennia, prosperity has tended to generalize, and so has the freedom to realize individual potential and to seek unique destinies, just feels good, although old forms lay in wait to reassert themselves. Corporate control of mass media has helped to resurrect the old monarchies and dynastic fortunes, the lot of them living behind security walls and bulletproof glass. It recalls a time when an extremely wealthy few dictated what art would be for everyone, and their endlessly replicated sky-pie mythology became the visible analogue of their hidden corruption, false piety and opulent excess, and wouldn’t you know, here we are again.

The art of the international art fairs speaks for itself, and it’s a coded smirky entanglement of half-baked social causes, board game tokens and trivial conceits, we get it. With world-weary sardonic disdain, the ultra-wealthy believe it because it’s absurd, and it’s as though the middle ages never left. Let’s leave them there. Their stuff is way too expensive and a tad chic for the average house anyway. Doesn’t it follow that if there’s a change in the mentality of the general population and average people are left to ponder questions of personal identity, citizenship and selfhood, that their seeking would be reflected in visual art for all to see?

Turns out the answer to corporate avarice, abusing working classes and thriving on inequality, doesn’t depend on changing anyone’s mind. The solution is the emergence of a new mentality bursting from MBA programs everywhere, a trans-generational cadre of future CEO’s with a different set of values, people who as a group see their role in society in broader terms. J P Morgan just this week announced they aren’t going to be doing it that way anymore, ripping off pensioners and evicting widows. It was an acknowledgement of pressure from below, an industry wide movement. Other fundamental changes are happening all around, you keep score. The point is humanity is changing direction, and anyone around for more than a couple of decades has been a witness to the flux. Art’s mission in this period of transition is to convey a new consensus, mind to mind, and it’s about to acquire a significance for average people it hasn’t had before. If you’d like to participate in the changeover, the demise of corporate feudalism and the advent of trans-national environmental cooperation and equitable distribution, or whatever happens next, taking an interest in art may help you keep up.

It’s not easy to decide what to like at first, but no need to overthink it. Just look at bunches of art, and what everyone else is thinking will somehow come through you, let it happen. It won’t be long before your friends, and new ones you haven’t met yet, will all begin to like a similar sort of art, and no one will know exactly why. If the source of the art taken home and hung on the wall is local, affordable and knowable, something interesting takes place. As the audience gains sophistication, production in local studios, no longer dependent on outside income, will get better to match -- more time at the easel, simple as that. It’s a mutually rewarding relationship that after long suppression seems suddenly about to awaken all at once with original art displayed in businesses, up on city walls, and even used to lure tourists to upscale hotels. There’s a large enough array of art available these days for the average person to begin to recognize themselves, their interests and attitudes, just by looking. Everyone has this capacity. Visual art, inclusive and accessible, can be the universal channel for new definitions of self and peaceful reconciliation among communities, soon to prevail everywhere. Despots despise art because it can’t be censored, figurative images need no translation, and even though no words are spoken somehow art communicates a revolution in the head.

visiting independent studios -- the nuclear reactors of art

Previously a post suggested that art studios were each outposts of a separate sovereignty, neither geographically bound or limited to a particular era. This pervasive nation with its own standards and codes of conduct, its own notions of integrity and honor, can be found existing within the matrix of any semi-free society with an open economy. Can’t deny there are extravagant studios in the movies, and trust-fund dabblers can have anything they want, but that’s not how most studios begin, clearing out storerooms and repurposing garages. Founding a studio is a romantic enterprise in itself, already defying reality.

It’s not possible to aspire to be a serious artist without one, the studio is the artist’s most basic tool. No one makes much progress if they have to put it all away to prepare a meal, and the resentment of inconvenienced housemates isn’t conducive to creation -- art needs a separate space. Still, it isn’t reasonable to expect a studio to pay for itself for a long, long time, maybe never, and just the obligation of rent becomes the cornerstone of the artist’s commitment, a constant reminder to either be steadfastly productive or use the money for something else.

Once in a studio, the struggle begins, since without a boss there’s no job order to fill, no clear indication of what to do first, and there’s also no time clock, no scheduled breaks, and, perhaps most relevant of all, no paycheck. Without a customer, and at this point without a product to sell, there’s no clear indication of how to fill up the day. Once in a studio the artist is figuratively and literally faced with a blank page, the existential dilemma made graphically clear, finding themselves at a null point before stepping off in a new direction. The clear directive is to simply work, to paint and draw enough to find a voice while trying not to burn through a ton of supplies, since that money ain’t coming back, and to not waste time because the studio is being paid for with a day job.

Becoming rich and famous isn’t usually the prime motivator for those who step out on this path -- that’s on a different avenue in another part of town. Some are damaged people attempting to find wholeness, while others may be seeking relief from a mind-numbing occupation or perhaps they just enjoy spending time alone, and after all, it’s an inherited human trait, the desire to make things. Still, sorry to say, in most cases the world will be against the person who tries -- family members tend to be skeptical and in-laws don’t hide contempt, academics at all levels sneer reflexively while galleries demand that an artist be successful already, asking where else do you show before they even look. It’s a grueling soul-depleting gauntlet, and the attrition rate is high. For some the day-job wins out, a talented and motivated person working a semi-menial occupation might rise quickly, or just become addicted to a regular paycheck. Others learn to sustain themselves by adopting some regionally accepted genre, replicating a single subject over and over until they’re good enough to enter a local market, where some may thrive, but many artists with something original to say may as well stuff notes in bottles, since without a window to the public they’re likely to become isolated on an island of their own.

Studios pop in and out of existence at probably a greater rate than the galleries, the entire enterprise of art is in a constant state of ferment. They exist on a spectrum from new-age trendiness to bare-bones desperation, while many are productive and efficient workshops, and since they were just an empty space before the artist moved in, every inch reveals the personality of the artist perhaps more candidly than their art. Visiting several studios in an afternoon, look for local tours, reveals a lot about how art is made, offering the opportunity to ask questions and observe works in progress, all the while assessing the commonality and uniqueness of each situation. For anyone interested in truly learning about art, appreciating and eventually owning art, it’s a very good thing to do.