The Art Critic
Justice Potter Stewart opined of pornography that he "knew it when he saw it". That's my approach to art.
I’m probably the last person who should be an art critic.
While we never had a painting of Elvis on velvet when I was growing up, we might have had one of those prints with dogs playing poker. I’m not saying we did, but I’m not saying we didn’t, but I am from rural Mississippi, so I’ll leave it to you readers to figure the odds.
I have been fortunate to have been exposed to real art. I loved the Uffizi in Florence, Italy, the National Portrait Gallery in Edinburgh, and the Louvre in Paris. Having spent time in Italy, and some of that time in Rome, I know there are objects of great artistic importance on almost every street corner.
And the Vatican is amazing. St. Peter’s Basilica is breathtaking.
When you see sculptures of figures covered in what appears to be diaphanous silk cascading over the contours of a sculpted body and then the reality sinks in the silk is actually carved marble, the amount of skill and talent it takes to do something like that boggles the mind. The beauty is at once as inspiring as it is overwhelming.
That’s what I think of as art.
The unveiling of the MLK statue/art installation in Boston on Monday brought out the art aficionado in me. It raised this question in my mind:
Why is contemporary art so stinkin’ bad?
Not all, maybe not most, but a whole lot of contemporary art could be described as…well, I don’t know how to say this nicely, so I will just say it - hideous.
That is the word that comes to mind.
I joked today that PornHub must have sponsored the MLK statue because, from a couple of angles, it looks like a massive black penis or a black man with his head stuck up his anal orifice. I think it is supposed to look like a hug between King and his wife, Coretta Scott King, but even from that perspective, it leaves much to interpretation.
Several years ago, we lived in The Woodlands, just north of Houston. There was a riverwalk of sorts there (the river was manmade) and during the spring and fall, the causeways on either side of the river hosted artisans and craftspeople from all over. We stopped by on fin Texas spring Saturday to walk and look, picking up a few pieces of interest and I had the occasion to chat with a young contemporary artist who was displaying his wares – both paintings and sculptures.
His pieces were interesting in a “What the Hell is that” sort of way and I asked him what the meaning of his pieces were. His reply? “I want people to take their own meaning from my work.” I pointed out that if everybody assigned their own meaning to his work, sooner or later the meaning is diluted to the point it become meaningless. He replied that was OK as long his art invoked a strong reaction.
I think that is a common theme in a lot of contemporary art. It seems to me that it is filled with shock, anger, confusion and ultimately chaos. It’s designed to evoke strong emotions, even if those emotions border on complete confusion. That’s why I generally despise contemporary art because it isn’t about showing the beauty of people and the world, the very reason for it is to piss people off.
If you look around, beauty in architecture, general landscaping, residential and commercial construction often leans toward boring box-like utilitarian geometries, bordering on brutalism. We don’t do pretty anymore in our public buildings or spaces and as I noted, our statuary often seems designed to assault the senses.
It’s stolen beauty.
It seems designed to punish.
And that is a shame.
Most of us drive to work on grayish pavement, through concrete jungles or to a building in a cookie cutter commercial complex, following the same route each day, desensitized to our surroundings - so a little beauty would go a long way.
Maybe the MLK sculptor meant for people to see a giant penis, I can’t say.
But that is coming from a guy who may or may not have had a picture of dogs playing poker in his house.
Contemporary art no longer serves the purpose of raising up mankind. Of making us see the beauty of the world and each other. None of it has even a half-life to Michelangelo’s first piece. In five years, who will care what they made or did or performed. Their purpose is to tear down. So no one feels better. No one sees the potential — the greatness man can achieve. They are leaving no legacy to the world. It makes me sad.
"on fin Texas spring Saturday
one fine...?