There’s a big problem for original art just for starters because its lip-service advocates don’t really like it. The scholars don’t like it because they live by analyzing the evolution and mutation within a limited bloodline, and galleries insist on something similar to art that’s much more expensive. Interior designers don’t like original art at all because it dominates the sofa and carpet where the margins are fat, and don’t pull out a wad of millions and expect to find anything serious. In that range speculators bid on a Rockwell or a Rothko with equal fervor and it has nothing to do with the art. They’re buying a known brand and hoping to unload it tomorrow for more so whatever’s on the front doesn’t count, it’s just a poker chip.
The awkward fact is that art made directly from life can seem abrasive, unfamiliar and raw, especially after seeing similar work online or reproduced on a poster. It can be as quirky and idiosyncratic as the artist and you’ll find their personality is oddly reflected in the way they portray the world. If the sum of their life experiences and all the art they’ve ever seen filtered through the prism of their mind happens to coincide with what’s currently written about in media and pushed in galleries they’ll be rich and famous pronto, but that’s unlikely. As truly original art their product can’t even find a venue since there’s no established consensus on its value. Gallery directors don’t even know what they’re looking at without a record of prior sales, and deep down academics resent actual artists in exactly the same way sports writers are jealous of athletes.
Why artists continue to work anyway while earning a living at some menial occupation (‘with their left hand’ from an old artist proverb) is a mystery born of discontent probably, but in any case they choose it. Equally important, along with making art is the looking, completing the circuit and sharing mind to mind with the artist, but also with all the others who look at it as well. Painting is far from obsolete these days, and as the floor and walls dissolve in digital goo and we argue on the phone with non-humans, it’s just about the only thing that’s real. Original art is the one thing left in the house that could last for a lifetime, just for a start. If it’s compelling enough, over time bonding takes place and a comfortable friendship develops. A few pieces of original art become something to hold on to.
The art establishment’s empire of certified acceptance and bluebook evaluation largely excludes truly original art and inevitably degenerates into a cascade of mediocrity and cheesy marketing. In this moment a rank opportunist is selling fabulously-expensive paintings of evenly spaced dots claiming there are ‘no two alike,’ while another is having a series of stupidly-expensive museum-sized sculptures fabricated that revel in the mentality of toddler-hood. The only thing dumber would be a panel of one solid color, oh you say someone already did that. The lucky thing turns out to be that all humans have the equipment onboard, may be dusty, to decide for themselves when an artist has been able to express something they’ve only felt, or perhaps made visible something they didn’t know they knew. Just understand that it’s in your human nature, some would say the very way we think, to constantly make comparisons. We’re doing it all the time anyway, so consciously use it on the art you see around town.
Don’t attempt to look at one piece of art and try to decide if it’s good or not, you’ll need an expert. Instead put up two paintings and consider which of the two you like better, almost anyone off the street can do it. Don’t be afraid of liking dumb art to begin with, just put it in the bank and move on. Soon you’ll find something you like better, by comparison. Everyone up and down the block might take their own journey but in the end the art that hangs in people’s houses will reflect and express what they all have in common as well as their differences, and in the richest, most advanced society ever on earth, the notion of everyday people seeing, discussing, and owning art is not too much to ask.
The awkward fact is that art made directly from life can seem abrasive, unfamiliar and raw, especially after seeing similar work online or reproduced on a poster. It can be as quirky and idiosyncratic as the artist and you’ll find their personality is oddly reflected in the way they portray the world. If the sum of their life experiences and all the art they’ve ever seen filtered through the prism of their mind happens to coincide with what’s currently written about in media and pushed in galleries they’ll be rich and famous pronto, but that’s unlikely. As truly original art their product can’t even find a venue since there’s no established consensus on its value. Gallery directors don’t even know what they’re looking at without a record of prior sales, and deep down academics resent actual artists in exactly the same way sports writers are jealous of athletes.
Why artists continue to work anyway while earning a living at some menial occupation (‘with their left hand’ from an old artist proverb) is a mystery born of discontent probably, but in any case they choose it. Equally important, along with making art is the looking, completing the circuit and sharing mind to mind with the artist, but also with all the others who look at it as well. Painting is far from obsolete these days, and as the floor and walls dissolve in digital goo and we argue on the phone with non-humans, it’s just about the only thing that’s real. Original art is the one thing left in the house that could last for a lifetime, just for a start. If it’s compelling enough, over time bonding takes place and a comfortable friendship develops. A few pieces of original art become something to hold on to.
The art establishment’s empire of certified acceptance and bluebook evaluation largely excludes truly original art and inevitably degenerates into a cascade of mediocrity and cheesy marketing. In this moment a rank opportunist is selling fabulously-expensive paintings of evenly spaced dots claiming there are ‘no two alike,’ while another is having a series of stupidly-expensive museum-sized sculptures fabricated that revel in the mentality of toddler-hood. The only thing dumber would be a panel of one solid color, oh you say someone already did that. The lucky thing turns out to be that all humans have the equipment onboard, may be dusty, to decide for themselves when an artist has been able to express something they’ve only felt, or perhaps made visible something they didn’t know they knew. Just understand that it’s in your human nature, some would say the very way we think, to constantly make comparisons. We’re doing it all the time anyway, so consciously use it on the art you see around town.
Don’t attempt to look at one piece of art and try to decide if it’s good or not, you’ll need an expert. Instead put up two paintings and consider which of the two you like better, almost anyone off the street can do it. Don’t be afraid of liking dumb art to begin with, just put it in the bank and move on. Soon you’ll find something you like better, by comparison. Everyone up and down the block might take their own journey but in the end the art that hangs in people’s houses will reflect and express what they all have in common as well as their differences, and in the richest, most advanced society ever on earth, the notion of everyday people seeing, discussing, and owning art is not too much to ask.
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