Sunday, June 29, 2008

The Market - Artifice as Art

Jed Perl is the art critic for The New Republic, and he’s recently written an article that I’ve found to be immensely interesting. He is adamant about pulling his readers on board with him as he wraps the gavel in condemnation of the trends emerging in his world, the world of art.

The world of art is a place where I have little competency, but it’s also a place I love. During my semester abroad, I spent a fair amount of time thinking about art as I found myself ensconced on many a museum bench. I was fortunate enough to spend time with a passionate professor of art, one who could elucidate the philosophies, movements, and overarching history of art with such intellectual prowess and casual familiarity that I was left bedazzled. About midway through the semester I found myself hunched over my computer in a narrow hallway at the university where I studied with the friendly janitor for my only company. It was late, the rooms empty, lights out. But there I was, with the faint crisp smell of cleaning supplies lingering in the air as I pondered the question: What is art? I hadn’t thought much about it before. I knew it was something I enjoyed, but aside from that difficult (and expansive) question that I was supposed to answer in a paper to be turned in the following day in a language in which I was only moderately proficient (if that), I couldn’t even answer why it was that I actually enjoyed art.

But I know my answer now. I enjoy art because it takes me somewhere else, because it allows me to perceive some object (or possibly the absence of an object) and experience that object in it’s own world, even if there be no intentional frame of reference on the part of the artist. As John Dewey explains:

“A crowd of visitors steered through a picture-gallery by a guide, with attention called here and there to some high point, does not perceive; only by accident is there even interest in seeing a picture for the sake of subject matter vividly realized. For to perceive, a beholder must create his own experience. And his creation must include relations comparable to those which the original producer underwent. They are not the same in any literal sense…. Without an act of recreation the object perceived is not perceived as a work of art.”

For me, this offers a clear answer to my once puzzling question: why had I never been interested in art and yet now, I had found myself in love with it? To be sure, I don’t know very much about art other than possessing rough ideas of certain periods and the ability to pick out Cézanne and Monet. But despite my ignorance, I’ve found the world of art to be a welcoming bastion of new, exciting, and unique experiences to be had, each work able to function as an alternative vaulted macrocosm, complete with it’s own cosmos. If I’m lucky, I’ll be ripped from a world of sin and corruption and thrown into one of resplendent beauty. And I see the finger of God there, pushed through the utensil of man.

Jed Perl says this particular world of art is now threatened by a new, market oriented style of art. He references the current fashionable makers of modern art: Murakami, Koons, and Eliason. Perl’s idea of the way art should be: “A painting or a sculpture, whether abstract or representational, must always be a place--a unique locale, a little universe.” The work of these new artists (and the thousands like them): “they replace the there that constitutes a work of art with a nowhere.”

Art is no longer unique, he argues, but the capitalist world and the world of art have merged in order to produce art as a logo, art as a brand. Museums? They’re brands too, “places to dump expensive stuff.” The astute modern artist is really a marketer, well adept at creating things for which people will pay quite a bit of money to possess.

Why no more unique experience?

Perl:

“The people who run many of the contemporary art museums would probably be nervous about an experience that was so utterly unique. They are uncertain about their own taste. They want to give the public a dependable experience, which means an experience that has already been market-tested in other museums and galleries--and in the auction rooms.”

“I could explain why I think one of the two Serras at BCAM is better than the other, but the only thing that really matters is that Eli Broad, being a very important guy, has both of them.”

Art as social platform.

Markets have arguably done many things to force movement towards better living standards for a number of people, i.e. the rise of alternative energy sources as the price of oil increases, firms in Bangalore created to meet the low cost needs of tech companies in the U.S., etc. But when it comes to art, I want the finger of God, not the market savvy faux artist and his trickery. I want the enlightening experience of a new cosmos, not the mundane experience of “nowhere.”

Something valuable is lost when art is no longer enjoyed as it is experienced, but rather bought because it’s an important piece. For me it is frightening that something so petty as a rung along a social latter could be so convincingly disguised as something so important, art.

Artifice disguised as art.

Perl quotes R.B. Kitaj: “Paintings sit there, looking out at the world, which remains separate. I'm for an art into which the painter imports things from the world that he cares about"--imports them into the alternate world that is the work of art. "Painting," Kitaj explains, "is a great idea I carry from place to place. It is an idea full of ideas, like a refugee's suitcase, a portable Ark of the Covenant."

These alternate worlds are important to me. I care about them. I want their creators to care about them. In fact, I need them to. Real beauty is at stake.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Pet Cemetery

Next year I'm going to be part of a class at school called "Documenting Justice." The course is year long, and we will learn something of the art of documentary film making. The first semester will be studying the idea and genre of documentary, trying to understand the power a film maker has over someone with a camera in his hand, with the ability to include only what he desires in the final cut. During the second semester we will pair off, each pair making an 8-10 minute documentary on the social justice issue of their choice.

In preparation for this class, we have been instructed to view a number of different documentary films, one of which is entitled, "Gates of Heaven."

Gates of Heaven is about the six very strange individuals that surround the day to day operation of a pet cemetery. I haven't finished watching it, but so far, it is one of the strangest things I have ever seen. You can imagine the demeanor of a man whose sole dream in life is to create a place where people can give proper burials to their long lost loved ones, who might be dogs, cats, rodents, horses, snakes, birds, etc.

But this strange man makes an interesting point: He says that sometimes the loss of a pet can be just as severe as the loss of a child. Humans, he says, can only be known while you stand face to face with them. Once you turn your back, you can't really know them. You can't know a human won't turn on you, betray you. You can't know whether or not a human will be there when you need him. But a dog, on the other hand, you can always know. You can know that when you turn your back, they'll be there right behind you. They won't attack you or seek their own interests at your expense. They're loyal. This, he says, is why so many people are so attached to their pets. When they need someone to cry to, they bury their head in the fur of a dog.


A man and his dog. A man who lives in a world where dogs and cats can be trusted more than men. Could this mean that all of us, whether religious or not, are aware of the fact that we as humans are broken, in need of fixing?

I don't think dogs, cats, rodents, or snakes are going to fix the problem.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Mr. James

"As a rule we disbelieve all the facts and theories for which we have no use."
-William James

Think this over for a moment. Agree with it? Have you ever even entertained a theory or idea for which you had no use? Do you pay attention at lectures during which the speaker heralds a new way of seeing the world if yours seems to be working "fine" at the moment? Why consider someone else's idea? Yours is good enough.

You tread dangerous ground when you consider the validity of ideas that don't quite mesh with the world that you've constructed. And I think it's the exact remedy necessary to avoid bigotry, racism, and most importantly, a self centered vantage point.

Case-in-point: Hugo Black. Justice Black sat on the Supreme Court during a time when it was politically expedient for him to be racist. And he was racist, that is, until he began reading late at night, checking out more books from the Library of Congress than anyone before him. He educated himself out of racist thought. That ALL people, including african americans, were created equal was not a useful belief (for him), and he would have done well to continue a comfortable life, never questioning his view. Except that his view was just plain wrong. Justice Black adopted an un-useful idea, a true idea. His court opinions were then laced with this new idea, that all really are equal.

How many of my beliefs should I reconsider, beliefs I might hold because they help me bolster my position, but might not be true?

Monday, June 9, 2008

Requerimiento

I've been reading the book that I mentioned earlier called, "A Journey Long and Strange," by Tony Horowitz, and he mentions a Spanish document called the Requerimiento. This document was created by the Spanish and supported by the Pope. It's purpose? Well, it was a kind of rules of engagement with unmet people groups, especially los indios of the new world. It was to be formally read before any new people with whom the Spanish encountered.

The document gave two options. A. Accept the fact that we are Spain and God has ordained that we have full authority by the Pope to take control of your people and your land. Heed to this proclamation and you will be treated with certain privileges. B. Ignore it and we will conquer you and spare nothing. We will take your homes and decimate them, your women and children and make them into slaves, and your land to make our own homes. No respect will be paid to you or your traditions, your way of living, or your land.

My favorite part about this document? It was often read in the middle of the night, outside the walls of a newly discovered pueblo, with no audience.

Other favorite part? When it was read in front of an audience, the majority of the time there was no translator.

To point out the obvious, either of these scenarios equals zero understanding.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Danny Devito

I read a blog by this guy named Seth Godin. My friend Jeremiah pointed me there, and it never fails to be interesting. That's why i keep reading. He posted this the other day, and I thought I'd put it here.....cause its interesting:

George Clooney is a movie star. He looks like one. He makes tens of millions of dollars a year, hangs out at Cannes and has starlets falling at his feet.

Danny Devito is exactly five feet tall. He was perfectly cast as the Penguin.

Can you imagine the career advice Danny got? The well-meaning people who explained to him (as if he didn't know) that he didn't really look like George Clooney? That perhaps, maybe, he should consider a job as a personal trainer or short order cook...

The math, however, tells us something different.

(number of people resembling George Clooney)/(jobs for people resembling George Clooney) is a much bigger number than the ratio available to Danny. For the math challenged: Because everyone in Hollywood is trying to be George, there are a lot more opportunities for the few Dannys willing to show up.

Invest in Danny. The edges usually pay off.