Previous: the substance of style
who can turn the world on with their artblog?
Post #99 • September 4, 2003, 5:45 AM • 14 Comments
The Tears of Things surveys Artblogistan and finds it wanting.
One of the things I like about artblogs is that they sanction a wider range of emotion than most art criticism. ToT is the perfect example – Jerome du Bois’ “How I Narrowly Escaped Becoming the New Phoenix New Times Art Writer” is a scream, and is something that you will never see in any other medium. Catherine King’s hamstringing of Beverly McIver is a fine example of well-aimed vituperation.
Now its knife is trained on the art blogosphere. This shoe fits, so I’ll wear it:
Most art bloggers are not asking big questions or advancing new notions. They pick nits. They have gotten excited about the spatial tension in Morandis still lives, charmed by Modiglianis tilted necks, all studious about what ol Clem really meant, and angry about leaky roofs in the houses of that odious misogynist, Frank Lloyd Wright.
I didn’t get involved in the wrangling over Wright and missed the Modigliani raves. I plead guilty to expressing excitement about the spatial tension in Morandis still lifes, and mine is the only blog around that mentions Greenberg on an occasional basis, so I guess that’s referring to me. This is fine; I wouldn’t be blogging if my feelings weren’t just about bulletproof. My response is: And? I’m thinking about Greenberg these days. I’m reading Volume 4 of his collected essays, lent to me by a buddy whose abstract paintings I admire. Clem was a longtime friend of Walter Darby Bannard, who was one of my teachers back in grad school. Since this blog is the chronicles of an artist in the world, that’s what ends up on the site.
I wonder about this:
I wrote about the vile Santiago Sierra without mercy, with a lot of anger, with chapter and verse, and even with a list of questions. I got an unhelpful, private email from one art blogger (who should be called the third blowhard), but nothing else.
I see four comments on that page, one of them from me, expressing solidarity. (Waitasec – I’m the only art blogger on that page. Am I the ‘third blowhard‘? Naah. I didn’t send an e-mail. He must mean somebody else.) If four comments is ‘nothing’, what kind of response is Tears of Things expecting?
I submitted Artblog.net to my host’s Site of the Month contest, which is peer-reviewed. Right now I’m running a 4.62 out of 10, and have received two comments:
dtobias: “Decently done as blogs go… I guess if somebody is interested in its topic it would be interesting.”
gbdk: “Not much to say, as there’s not much to see. It doesn’t attract any attention, and it didn’t spark my interest. One plus: it has a clean layout, though it lacks navigation and context.”
Of course, it would lack context if you can’t tell your gluteus from your olecranon when it comes to art. But this demonstrates to me that I’m preaching to the choir. No surprises there. I’m content to rant to my readership, and let my big, new thoughts percolate slowly as I think about this and that. I enjoy the discipline of posting five days a week. That anyone cares to watch me do it is a marvel for which I’m grateful.
2.
September 4, 2003, 8:28 PM
I’m not ready to lump art together with paintball. We don’t think of hobbies as being capable of presenting the most profound sentiments of the race, as art can. You can do it as a hobby, sure, but investing the majority of your being into it brings commensurate rewards. I don’t think the same is true of, say, collecting Star Wars figurines. (Maybe the Star Wars figurine collectors can correct me on this.) Gauging potential profundity, I think it would be fair to place art (and the arts in general) above hobby and below religion. Your observation about pure distallates is interesting - that’s a good metaphor.3.
September 4, 2003, 8:37 PM
While Mr. du Bois is free to criticize art blogs other than his own, it is not particularly good form to do so. Whatever his intentions were, bashing the competition is always somewhat suspect, for obvious reasons. If the competition is indeed inferior, it is best left to the audience to determine that for itself and act accordingly. If Mr. du Bois had limited himself to pointing out what he feels are the deficiencies of other art blogs, without extolling the virtues of his own, and without complaining about the lack of response thereto, I would have been much better disposed toward his critique. As it was, his position was significantly compromised, in my estimation, by the unfortunate ”Look at how much better my blog is, and see how the ungrateful wretches repay me!” subtext. I’m not saying that any art blog out there is exempt from justified constructive criticism; no doubt they all, without exception, have room for improvement. However, even if Mr. du Bois was motivated by the noblest of motives, his approach leaves a good deal to be desired.4.
September 5, 2003, 9:26 AM
Franklin - Thanks for reading and responding thoughtfully. Perhaps paintball is not an appropriate comparison, but if most human pursuits comprise three circles: professionals, amateurs, and fanciers, then I think we’ve described the art world too. Perhaps some pursuits are more capable of ”presenting the most profound sentiments of the race” than others, but I think it’s a conceit to say so. It’s also not clear to me how much of art is profound, and <a href=\"http://www.artblog.net/index.php?id=97\">how much is primitive</a>. If art can be primitive, can paintball not be profound? If not paintball, then take mountain climbing. I’m sure any participant would say ”investing the majority of your being into it brings commensurate rewards.” The same may apply to any popular activity. Who knows what portions of their humanity people invest in their passions, or what returns they receive? I suspect humans are all basically alike, and all activities reach the same level of complexity and satisfaction (and perhaps profundity) eventually. Given what I’ve read of your writing, I suspect you would be sympathetic to this view. If <i>Star Wars</i> figurines are popular, I take it they’ve struck a nerve. It may not be the same nerve struck by art, but I doubt there’s only one nerve for profundity. Despite the different nerves which may carry the impulse, the neurons which receive the impulses, indicating pleasure or profundity, probably do not know how they were activated. Goosebumps are goosebumps. On the other hand, if large numbers of people are ultimately superficial, and incapable of profundity, and figurine collection is not equal to art, then we must be prepared to admit that art simply does not reach everyone, and art-lovers are in a small and isolated class. Either way, among those for whom art is not a profession, being the vast majority of people who enjoy the pursuit, I don’t think the term ”hobby” is inapt.5.
September 5, 2003, 11:48 AM
To Franklin: 1. I’m grateful for your blog, too, Franklin; it’s usually my first stop of the day. Thanks for the feature. (But that title! Arrgghh, I had that dreadful song nagging my mind all day like an obnoxious puppy.) 2. Catherine thanks you for highlighting the McIver piece. And the Phoenix New Times, which slides deeper into slime, still needs periodic flogging; thanks for helping out with that. 3. I’ll get back to you on Greenberg. I had just reread Florence Rubenfeld’s biography before I wrote that post, and for many reasons he really set my teeth on edge. (Even from the grave; that’s power.) 4. On the Sierra comments: I meant I wanted more substantive, detailed comments. I was glad of yours, but, lest we forget, your post pointed right back to your writing. You said nothing about my essay itself. (I’m not complaining. Your piece just added to the vibe I wanted.) 5. You’re right, I expect a lot, but sometimes over the top is the place to begin. Thanks again, Franklin. To Jack: Since you’ve thoughtfully posted your message on our blog, I’ll answer you there. To Hovig John Heghinian (what a wonderful name!): Since this is Mr. Einspruch’s blog, I’ll (almost) hold my tongue; but I will assume, sir, that you are not now, nor have you ever been, a working artist. Hobby, my ass. Sincerely, Jerome du Bois6.
September 5, 2003, 12:02 PM
Franklin, Posting comments is like going to the hardware store: there’s no such thing as one trip. No, you’re not the third blowhard. I should have pulled that phrase, not because I don’t mean it, but because it was a distraction. Sincerely, Jerome du Bois7.
September 5, 2003, 12:30 PM
Jerome: Thanks for the complement. The name is Armenian, FWIW. (My grandfather was Hovhannes, which is Armenian for Johannes, so Hovig is basically ”Johnny.” My parents gave me a redundant middle name just in case it came in handy, which it did.) I’ve never made a comment about Franklin’s programming, and I’m sure he’s doing an excellent job, judging from his site. I have a Masters Degree in Computer Science, I was there at UIUC when the first WWW browser was written by two of my students and one of my classmates (and I mean that literally), and more recently, I have written the software for an Internet-based business which now has a couple dozen employees, with enough revenues to pay their salaries comfortably. To Franklin, programming is a hobby. Maybe to you too. And so be it. I don’t go around writing blog messages to the effect that, if only the world knew more about programming, etc, etc, etc ... and I don’t call for all children to learn programming in schools, or for states-funded programming museums, or for federally-funded programming clinics, or anything like this. I take it as self-evident that programming interests some people, and not others, and that it can basically take care of itself. I don’t understand why people in the art world are so unconfident. And yet, there is an extremely artistic side to programming. The term software developers use is ”elegance.” I wish I could communicate to you the wonderful feeling I get when I confirm the elegance of an efficient algorithm, or the sense of deep pride I feel when a colleague looks at a design, written on paper in the most abstract fashion imaginable (e.g., a pictorial language called UML), and comments how elegant it is. I’ll never forget when I was getting my BS in Electrical Engineering, and my lab partner and I devised a finite state machine where one of the bits always transitioned between 1 and 0 upon every state transition. It was stunningly remarkable to both of us. But I can’t communicate it to any but a tiny percentage of the population who understands any of the mumbo-jumbo I just incanted. And you don’t care anyway. So be it. Perhaps I’ll tighten up my opinions by saying art is a hobby, as opposed to a univeral human requirement. Certainly there are professionals in every field, but outside those who are professionals and dabblers, everyone else is an interested hobbyist.8.
September 5, 2003, 1:23 PM
Jerome - I didn’t understand your accusation that I was never a working artist. Were you referring to my not understanding the difficulties of making a living as an artist, or perhaps my not understanding the demands on the profession? You’re right, I’ve never been, so I don’t appreciate what the statement implies. No disrespect intended.9.
September 5, 2003, 5:46 PM
That one reviewer did reflect one of my thoughts. Although I know you do provide links to images, will you consider posting some along with your commentaries? I’m not asking that for the sake of eye candy but, for illustrative purposes. Even if you don’t, the importance of any discussion here would fall on deaf ears in a web host contest. But, of course, you already know that.10.
September 5, 2003, 6:27 PM
aaaarrrrrggghhh!! Okay... holding my tongue (with difficulty). I’m afraid there’s nothing I could possibly say to Hovig that would not start a flame war so, in order to save my sanity I will just quit reading his comments. I think Jerome understands. I think a lot more people (not everyone, of course) would be interested in art if they felt more confident about it. People don’t understand art, don’t know how to talk about it and they’re afraid of looking stupid. Another thing that drives people away from the arts is anti-elitist attitudes in popular culture. Most young children love art until they grow up and learn from their parents and peers that fine art is not for factory workers, truck drivers, secretaries, waitresses, sales clerks, mechanics, technicians or any other ordinary person. Art is only for ”artsy people.” That’s not true and we’re not born thinking like that but that’s what everybody learns.11.
September 5, 2003, 10:59 PM
To Hovig: Our frames overlap more than you think. First of all, for this: <i>I have written the software for an Internet-based business which now has a couple dozen employees, with enough revenues to pay their salaries comfortably.</i> My most heartfelt congratulations and admiration. To me, this is one of the noblest and finest statements one could make; to create something useful that actually provides a comfortable living for others. It’s not just American (or Armenian!), but comes from the best in us. If I could someday do what you’ve done above, I’d die <i>really</i> happy. Second, about programming: I was never a pro, but I wrote modest to middle-sized programs for several years in college, long ago, and I particularly enjoyed subjects like discrete mathematical structures. As for languages, we’re talking Assembler, Fortran, Cobol, and Pascal. I loved the compact elegance of Assembler. To some it looked like mumbling, and they preferred spelling everything out in Cobol, but to me the restrictions of Assembler and the fact that it was so close to the machine itself, always reminded me of the rudder of a ship, so small but so powerful. Once upon a time, though, we were talking about art. But my whole gig is that it all has roots in life. Art is always entangled. You see what you start, Franklin? Take care, all, Jerome du Bois12.
September 6, 2003, 1:19 PM
Jerome - Thanks for the insights. I remember Assembler too. :-) (And programming’s changed quite a lot since the days you remember.) <i>Art in America</i>’s 2003 Guide lists about 24,000 artists at 5,400 galleries. Let’s assume 10,000 or 15,000 are still alive. This is a microscopic number by any standard. Compare this to to 750,000 licensed Realtors in America. Franklin is listed on page 285 of the Guide, but his CV says he’s a full-time instructor. I wonder how many of the others listed also work full time. You might convince me I was wrong and insensitive to call fine art a hobby, but it’s tough for me to conclude it’s much more. An academic pursuit, perhaps. Lynn - Thanks for the reply. I don’t bite. :-) This is just a discussion. No bloodloss required. We debate, defend, and understand. But I wonder whether we’re confusing fine art with primitive art. Children use primitive art to communicate, but museums display fine art. I find the two are different, as I find commercial art different from them again. Each has different aspirations, intentions, practices, and followers. The art world doesn’t seem to obsess over whether people understand primitive or commercial art. Just the opposite, the art world seems positively distraught over it. Many disdainfully call it ”kitsch,” or ”corporate art.” I find this immodest in a number of ways. Also, children tell knock-knock jokes and sell cookies too, but they can’t all become Jerry Seinfeld or Martha Stewart. Everyone can’t do everything, and I think that’s just okay. I find it immodest to suggest people must be ”educated” or ”encouraged” in order to understand fine art, not to mention a bit dictatorial. Who are we to insist? You can’t take your husband to <i>Don Giovanni</i>, and I can’t take my wife to <i>Wozzeck</i>. Oh well. We both go to <i>Ariodante</i> and we’re both happy. Our friends all look at us funny when we mention opera. What should I do, tell them they’re uneducated? That would be rich, me telling my programming and business colleagues, and my wife telling her cancer surgeon and cancer researcher colleagues, that they’re uneducated! As the expression goes, ”water finds its level.” If something’s that good, it’ll come around. If not, we can’t force it, and we have to accept it. There’s that horse-and-water expression too. I saw <i>Cremaster 1</i> and <i>2</i> last night. (They were okay, neither great nor horrible.) I don’t think they should be have been made so people could understand them, nor that people should be ”educated” to appreciate them. They are what they are. I accept that a tiny number of people can discuss fine art. I don’t worry that the fine arts is a small community. So it is. Why do I need to conquer the world? I mean, what am I going to do with it? (And who wants to clean up after it, anyway?)13.
September 6, 2003, 2:00 PM
Hovig, I quite agree that, while exposure and education are important, they cannot create a serious appreciation for art, only facilitate its development. There has to be an innate aptitude, receptivity or susceptibility to art already in place—that’s either there or it isn’t; it can’t be inserted in an empty slot like a computer disk. There are very intelligent and highly educated people who, despite every opportunity, simply don’t respond to art to any significant degree. Then there are those, like myself, who literally gravitate towards art as a natural phenomenon, despite conspicuous lack of external encouragement. I don’t want to get into semantics, but I don’t think of my involvement with art as a hobby. It’s a serious interest which responds to an inner need or proclivity; it’s part of my nature. I’m sure there are people who are into ”the scene” primarily for extraneous reasons; they don’t need or want art for its own sake, but enjoy the social events, the glamour/fashion aspects, and the prestige/cachet associated with it. For such people, the term hobby seems more apt.14.
September 7, 2003, 7:37 PM
Hovig, Lynn, um, everyone - Wow, 'hobby' is almost as loaded of a word as 'art'. It connotes a lack of seriousness, so that 'serious hobbyist' implies someone whose devotion to their hobby might make them <a href="http://www.trekdoc.com/">insufferable</a>. Mountain climbing is a sport. Paintball is both a game and a sport. We enjoy games and sports according to criteria that are similar but parallel to art. For instance, consummately gifted performances of skill are always a virtue in a sports. In art, they can be tiresome if they dont serve an expressive purpose. Science's and logic's 'elegance' is also similar but parallel to art. And I do get it. My <a href="http://www.thesunburn.com">recent attempts</a> at hacking php code yielded the pleasures of elegance on the few iterations that I was able to achieve it. (Frankly, I was pretty thrilled when it <i>worked</i>.) But in art, the preferred solution is not always the most straightforward one. Elegance has a different connotation for the visual experience than the mathmatical. There is overlap, but not complete overlap. (As a side note, one of the reasons I enjoy programming is that it uses a non-art part of my brain and the problems it brings up have quantifiable answers and performance goals. Where as in art, I have to stare and stare and stare, wondering if the painting is <i>really</i> holding up to the one made before it or not. Writing falls somewhere between the two.) My conclusion here is that these categories are useful for communication between parties that are willing to play by their connotations. Collapsing them, saying that art is a hobby, for instance, may be possible, but it isn't going to be the most useful way of describing what's happening - that's why the categories were created in the first place. I think I could make an argument that art is a religion - look at the level of fervor of its followers, note how well-educated they are in its concerns, consider their focus on the intuition. But collapsing art and religion make both impossible to discuss. Same goes for collapsing art and hobby. This, by the way, is my primary logical objection to postmodernism as I understand it. Knowledge becomes more specific and detailed as it expands, and postmodernism seeks the opposite of specific, detailed distinctions. <a href="http://www.temple.edu/aesthetics/white-cube.html">Suzi Gablik</a> (Thanks, Hamster!): >> For Dewey, as well as for Shusterman [see article], the essence and value of art are not in the mere artifacts we typically regard as art, but in the dynamic and developing experiential activity through which they are created and perceived. The point is not a rejection of discrete, static objects, as Shusterman says, nor to close or destroy art's museums, but rather to expand them, and to show that aesthetic experience clearly exceeds the limits of fine art and its objects. "My defense of the aesthetic legitimacy of popular art and my account of ethics as an art of living, " he states, "both aim at a more expansive and democratic reconception of art. " >> Collapsing ethics and art make both impossible to discuss without one or the other fading into a categorical oblivion that doesn't jibe with real life. (Demonstrating the enormous range of the aesthetic experience can be done through art more efficiently than other means, but that's a practical objection, not so much a logical one.) Analogies ought to be drawn, and the categories ought to have their tires kicked good and hard on occasion, but there's a point of absurdity that can be reached that just doesn't do any good. Well, so much for settling all this tonight. Thanks to everyone for their input and see you tomorrow.
1.
Hovig John Heghinian
September 4, 2003, 8:26 AM
I think the government should start a program so underprivileged children can learn more about art blogs. It’s obvious that art blogs are under-visited because most people are too stupi—uh, I mean—because underprivileged children ... um ... how does that song go again? In all seriousness, I’m sure most people don’t care about art, any more than they care about math. Maybe they add some numbers when they do their taxes, but that’s about it. As long as the cash register comes up with the right number, and the cellphone makes the right connection, and the sales commission check gets cut in the right amount, what do people really care about math, as such? It’s certainly a part of everyone’s life, and it’s nice when the math works out, but nobody goes to ”math exhibitions” or ”math concerts.” Why, in the name of all things holy, should more people care about art than math, especially where ”care” is defined by the high standard of the art-loving crowd which frequents art blogs? I’ve never understood the attitude that everyone is an artist or critic, but for just a tiny drop of opportunity and a little drip of education, and I never will. The other day we saw an interview with Virginia Postrel, telling us art is everywhere, in the design of everything we use around the house. (She says this is some sort of new concept, which is a laughable notion. All it means is that the PC industry has grown up a little bit. Cars have been beautiful just about forever.) Math is everywhere too. Imagine a personal computer or cellphone without math. But people don’t care about the pure distillate of art any more than they care about the pure distillate of math. Or physics. Or garbage collection. If the new breed of vacuum cleaners look prettier than ever, that’s great, but what does that have to do with people dropping everything else in their life and agonizing over the phallic symbol in Picasso’s <a href=\"http://www.art.com/asp/sp.asp?PD=10008342\">The Dream</a>? British museums eliminated their entrance fees in Dec 2001, and <a href=\"http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/1746563.stm\">attendance basically doubled</a>. Britain’s Culture Secretary Tessa Jowell <a href=\"http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/2183071.stm\">gushed</a>: ”<i>Free admission has democratised the nation’s treasures, making them accessible to all. That has to be good for our children, for students and for those who simply want to enjoy these wonderful exhibits.</i>” But guess what. Upon further study, it was learned that <a href=\"http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/2812167.stm\"><i>the same people just went more often</i></a>. No kidding. Art is a hobby, people. Just like paintball, stamp collecting, and mountain climbing. I think we need to get over it.