Donald Kuspit is one of America’s most
important art critics. He is
a Distinguished Professor of Art History and Philosophy at the State
University of New York at Stony Brook and has received fellowships from
the Fulbright Commission, the NEA, and the Guggenheim Foundation among others. He is a contributing editor to Artforum,
Sculpture, the New Art Examiner, and Tema Celeste Magazines as
well as editor of Art Criticism. He is author and editor of
hundreds of articles and books including The End of Art
published in 2004. He frequently writes for Artnet.com
Diane Thodos is an artist and art critic
and was a student of Donald
Kuspit at the School of Visual Arts in New York City from 1987 to 1992.
She is also a former student of Stanley William Hayter and Sam Gilliam
and received a Pollock-Krasner Foundation Grant in 2002. She has
exhibited most recently at the National Hellenic Museum in Chicago and
is represent by the Paule Friedland/Alex Rivault Gallery in Paris, The
Traeger/Pinto Gallery in Mexico City, and the Thomas Masters Gallery in
Chicago. She will be exhibiting at the Kouros gallery in New York City
in 2010.
Diane Thodos: I
believe, as
you do, that postmodernism represents an inextricable cultural crisis:
a collapse that cannot repair or heal itself. I wouldn’t want to be an
artist if I had to be, ideologically speaking, a postmodern artist.
Donald Kuspit: There is
no direction. They don’t
know what art is. We’re in a nihilistic endgame. I was reading a review
about Bruce Nauman, a piece in Newsweek by Peter Plagens. It begins by
saying that he’s perhaps the most influential American artist since
Warhol, and I thought now what does this mean? Everyday he was trying
to redefine the art “ex-nihilo” – out of nothing – and my thought is
even God started with something. But also that means that he does not
know what art is. He believes you have to redefine it, reconceptualize
it. So what is it? Does it exist? It is annihilative: perpetual
redefinition, unstable, etc.
DT: It
isn’t ex-nihilo, it’s ex-nihilism. It is consciously nihilistic in its
intent.
DK: I think it’s over
for a lot of those people and
one of the things I see happening is a return to tradition in a variety
of ways (without mimicking it).
DT: Regarding
the postmodern problem
I remember you once raised the question in class about why is it
artists don’t allow themselves to go back to being influenced by a
tradition. I really have to pose the question why have we come to the
point that an artist doesn’t even think about being influenced by some
of the artists we have seen exhibited today – like the German
Expressionists at the Neue Gallery or Francis Bacon here at the Met.
DK: Well they are.
Lucian Freud was influenced by
Bacon. The change in his art was due to his friendship with Bacon.
There are a lot of repetitions, quotations, and appropriations. There
is a sort of Duchampian mode/conceptual mode that’s still operational.
I think of the art of the spectacle – the British sensationalism is
related to that.
DT: It’s
gotten very academic and old by this point. It’s a very narrow road
extremely well traveled.
DK: That’s correct.
DT: And
at this point when you think
of the incredible diversity that occurred (I remember you talking about
the “Big Bang” of Modernist creativity at the beginning of the last
century around 1905 – 24) we still have these rich aesthetic Modernist
traditions that have barely scratched the surface of their
possibilities in a sense.
DK: Well, part of the
whole idea of Modern is “make
it new” so there’s this momentum of novelty until then this becomes a
cliché itself. But I think there’s a deeper reason. We look at
this
Expressionism show [Brucke: The Birth of Expressionism in Dresden and
Berlin 1905 - 13 at the Neue Gallery, Feb. 26 – June 29 2009]. What we
see is artists who are people who have certain life experiences. It
comes through certain attitudes and ideas. They are responding toward
objects: Kirchner toward women, or landscapes, or African art. They are
engaged in life enhancing experiences and then they are making the art
as part of it. It’s not exactly reifying it but the art becomes part of
that life experience. So they go to the coast and are excited by the
waves. They’re taking it in, they are receiving it, they are very open
to all this that is happening.
DT: Open
to life in that sense.
DK: They are open to
life, and the art becomes part
of this openness. Now art is self-ghettoized. Think for a moment there
has been no adequate response to 9-11. Compare that to other responses
from the World Wars, or even Rosenquist’s painting F-111 responding to
American power. But a lot of this has been taken over by photography –
documentary photography. These guys who are right up there with the
troops and quite a number of the images are just stunning. So it is a
kind of “artistry”, not what we call high art. That’s part of it. The
events are outside the art world and may be too overwhelming and they
just don’t know how to deal with it, or they don’t want to partly
because they are “in on themselves.”
DT: Is
this a tremendous inadequacy to connect with life? A denial?
DK: A narcissism.
DT: And a
fear of the emotion in life?
DK: That’s right, it’s
a fear of the emotion in life.
DT: Why
is there a tremendous fear of emotion when it should be part of life?
DK: They probably do
have emotions in their lives –
I don’t see how they couldn’t – but they split it off and deal with
“official “ issues of art.
DT: Hermetically
sealed off.
DK: Right.
DT: That
is a bizarre state.
DK: It’s a split state.
It’s pseudo-rational art.
To me it goes back to something that T.S. Eliot wrote about – what he
called the disassociation of sensibility. This is a famous distinction
– set in art of the Modern period – between the separation of cognition
and feeling. The issue is to get them together. So these guys are on
the side of cognition – Nauman turning to instrumental reason,
technology, theory machines, neon – rather primitive technology though
some of it is sophisticated. The emotions have been flattened.
DT: You
have often written about the
exclusion of experiential depth in the great morass of conceptual art
that dominates today’s art world. To use a strong term, do you see the
art world projecting a kind of “indoctrination” as a means of control
and as a means of destroying humanist and expressionist tendencies in
art, or is it something else?
DK: Well, as you know
certain groups – for example
October most notoriously – have attacked humanism quite explicitly. I
think they have a naive idea of the human. But the larger issue is – I
think it’s something Greenberg once said – that in the Modern period
there’s no clear idea of what it is to be human. We are not sure
anymore so you have all this talk about cyborgs – semi-robots,
semi-humans. The other day I had a computer repaired and I went to a
tech serve which has a place on 23rd Street. While I was waiting they
were showing videos. These were videos made by “avant garde” artists
and there was one that was quite fantastic. It showed a robot female
with a kind of pretty face but with a body made of pipes. She’s
underground with all these other big pipes surrounding her and she’s
plucking some sort of artificial flower and very tenderly looking at
this flower. I thought – now look, there’s this image in front of me,
she’s a robot with this mask on her and she has simulated feelings –
it’s all simulation. Or it’s like in Japan where now they have made
robot pet dogs which are very useful for people who are terminally ill.
They feel companionated by them. To buy them actually it’s about
$4,000. So you have this world of this technological society.
DT: Yes –
referring to the title of the book written by Jacques Ellul “The
Technological Society”.
DK: Yes – that’s very
important. So in such a
society the question is what is the fate of feeling – that’s one way to
put it – and what is the fate of the human? Now certain analysts who I
admire argue that the problem of being human is to create a “margin of
freedom” within determinism. There are all these determinisms –
biological, social – so how do you create this margin of freedom in
which you can be human and have feelings? And I would say now we have
technological determinisms. For example let’s take this little machine
you have here [digital camera/tape recorder] – a brilliant incredible
invention. In five years it will be half the size and do twice the
work. The question is what is it for? I have seen some people get hung
up on gadgets – they have got to have them.
DT: Yes –
they are playing video games all the time, they are on the cell phone
all the time, or constantly texting.
DK: But what do they
think? These are just
transmission machines – like television, a terrific invention, or the
telephone – another terrific invention. But content is not there – the
human content. It’s like the technology is slowly overwhelming, even
replacing the content. There is a fascination with the technology for
the sake of the technology.
DT: It is
replacing the emotive affect and communicative element of the human
being.
DK: That’s right – and
people think Aha! If we
follow the mechanical model then we are emulating the “zeitgeist.”
There is this old debate which comes back in various forms – including
in existentialism and psychoanalysis and in the 19th century – between
the robot model of man and man as an organism. So the Modern period
pushes us to more and more robot models.
DT: Like
what Picabia was talking
about when he had his Orphic ideas in painting and then transformed
them into the Dadaist idea of the machine?
DK: Right. But let’s
take the famous statement by
the surrealist poet Leautremont – the meeting of a sewing machine and
an umbrella on an operating table.
DT: He
was a very strange poet.
DK: Yes but that’s his
metaphor for sexuality which
was picked up. But think of that – it’s all machines: umbrellas, sewing
machines…
DT: Sadistic
really.
DK: Sadistic,
absolutely. That’s what the opening
of “Les Chants de Maldoror” is all about. The point is it’s all
inhuman. It’s perverse. It breaks down the barriers. So now you have
this sort of closed system. Now you have the computer model – our
brains are like computers. Well, maybe they are and maybe they aren’t.
Computers are not as plastic as brains.
DT: No –
brains are far more subtle.
DK: Most subtle, and
the most complicated organ
apparently ever created by nature from what I have read. All of this
militates against affect and yet I believe affect is there
unconsciously and it erupts from time to time. There are mass murders
and you get these sudden enactments – and a lot of art is about that
enactment. People like this guy at the MOMA, writing about himself in
every little enactment in different modes – a “happening”….
DT: Like
Paul McCarthey?
DK: No – though
McCarthey is another one of these horrors.
Diane Thodos: Based
on the German Expressionist
art show we just saw [Brücke: The Birth of Expressionism at the
Neue
Gallery, February 26 – July 29 2009] I have an important question. Do
you see any parallels between what is happening now and the
circumstances that created the “Degenerate Art” exhibit in Germany in
1937 – that is – the individual vs. the doctrinal? If so is there a
kind of covert censorship going on as to what art gets shown and what
does not?
Donald Kuspit: Oh yes.
DT: Can you relate
this somehow to what is
meant by the individualistic vs. the doctrinal regarding the
“Degenerate Art” show? To put this issue another way I read a wall text
written by Jay A. Clarke from the recent exhibit “Becoming Edvard
Munch: Influence, Anxiety, and Myth” at the Chicago Art Institute that
exhibited from February 14 – April 26, 2009. Here are the critical
parts of it:
The Edvard Munch of popular
imagination – a tortured bohemian
rebel who seemed almost a living version of the famous figure in “The
Scream” – was in fact a myth, carefully constructed during Munch’s
lifetime by critics, historians, and the artist himself….The Norwegian
art critic suggested that he suffered from the psychological condition
known as neurasthenia…otherwise known as nervous exhaustion…Adopted and
adapted by social commentators, the disorder was connected with
decadence and degeneration and applied to the visual arts….Munch
deliberately embraced disturbing subject matter and the personality of
the sick, socially aberrant artist…[he] adjusted his emotional pitch at
precise moments in order to achieve the outcomes he desired. Munch’s
self portraits, such as the brooding blue hued “Self Portrait in
Moonlight” and “Self Portrait with Cigarette”, offer a rich opportunity
to explore this persona in the act of construction, reminding us of the
artist’s central role in the process of his own mythmaking and
reputation building.
I feel this writing reflects a
historical “revision” of Munch’s
work that intends to desublimate the power of his work by making him
into an everyday huckster.
DK: Like contemporary
artists – like the Jeff Koons
of his day. That absolutely fascinates me – what the curator did, why
the curator did it, what’s the argument behind it, what’s the proof?
DT: This brings me
to the question – do we have
historical revisionism today that’s working as a means of not merely
avoiding the presence of emotion in art, but being destructive of the
importance of emotional sublimation in art? Does this revisionism
assert itself as a means of supporting a postmodern/postart agenda that
keeps the emotions out of art?
DK: What you say is
exactly right.
DT: Do you feel it
is like, in a sense, the way
the Germans with the “Degenerate Art” show degraded
Expressionist/Modernist art and displaced it with their own doctrinal
kitsch that was the official art?
DK: What I would say
has happened is the
avant-garde – avant gardism – has become institutionalized. It has
become a tyranny. It’s become a dogma, and for all the art world’s talk
about diversity – echoing the social diversity – it’s not diverse. It’s
an inertial system. So we go to a Whitney Biennale and we do not see
the range.
DT: You see the
opposite – a very narrow path.
DK: Exactly. The
mandate of The Whitney Biennale is to show the range so you see
different things.
DT: But it is not
the case.
DK: It’s not. It’s a
party line. It’s Fascist.
DT: I was just
getting to that. Fascist is an
interesting word because when we speak of the “Degenerate Art” show we
are speaking of the condemnation of Modern art by this doctrine.
DK: But there is
something else going on. Let’s go
back to the “Degenerate Art” show. I have this theory which I have
written about. I argue that the Nazis were perceptive; they saw
something that was there in the art; but what they did not understand
what was there in the art was in the society. The artists were talking
about – if you want – the degeneracy in the society: the savage etc. So
the Nazis – in their corrupted notion of purity or Aryanism – felt
threatened. They did not like the underside showing. They did not like
their own underside showing – their own aggression, their barbarism.
But there it was in the art, so they called it “degenerate” because it
was threatening. It was threatening because it touched them on the
inside. The fascinating thing about the Nazis is that they had a
passion for art. Do you know the book “The Rape of Europa” [Lynn H.
Nicholas 1995]?
DT: Yes.
Göhering stole a lot of art.
DK: Hitler wanted to
turn Linz his hometown and
Berlin into big art centers. Speer assimilated a lot of Modernist ideas
to make his art. He tried to subsume it, or dialectically sublate it –
and some of the structures are still interesting like the Olympic
stadium.
DT: He was part of
the Modernist movement even though he was complicit in horrible
atrocities.
DK: You know he was an
“organization man.”
DT: Yes, he was in
on the Nazi slave labor too.
DK: Right. He was
denying the slave labor.
DT: But he knew all
about it.
DK: Sure.
DT: There is an
interesting duplicity here.
DK: It’s a blindness.
It’s a blind side. It’s not that they are duplicitous.
DT: Well I mean in
his reaction to the press.
DK: Yes.
DT: The way he
appeared and what he was.
DK: I don’t think he
knew there was a difference. I
think Hitler knew there was a difference, I think the major
anti-Semites knew there was a difference. I think he believed in the
cause, he believed in Hitler, he believed Hitler was fine for Germany.
He began to realize it was all going to hell, and he was one of the
first to perceive it. There’s a fantastic book by Gitta Sereny – a
thick book some 700 pages [Albert Speer: His Battle with Truth 1996].
It’s interviews she did with Speer after his imprisonment. He just had
no perception. He was just like; organization – let’s do it…
DT: Do you think it
is because in the culture there is structure before there is emotion?
DK: They are obedient.
The Germans are obedient.
DT: But was it
structure before feeling,
structure before perception? Was there a structural element that was
built into the culture that made Speer that way?
DK: That’s a difficult
question to answer. I think
there are Nazis and there are Nazis. They weren’t all uniform. A lot of
them were military men.
DT: Prussian.
DK: Prussian. A certain
notion of honor – that’s why they turned against Hitler.
DT: Yes. I have
heard about these things too.
But the interest I have is also that there was enough of a presence in
the culture that had a strong structural element.
DK: Their obedience.
Mitscherlich writes about
that. “Gehorsamkeit.“ Put them in a line and they just keep going. They
are brought up that way.
DT: In the Leni
Riefenstahl film “Triumph of the Will” it is interesting how rigidly
the soldiers march in tight box formations.
DK: “The Authoritarian
Personality of Adorno”
[first published in 1950]. Part of the new Germany is to go against
that authoritarianism. Transparency of government – that’s why the
Reichstag has a glass dome. The young people are very different. Now
the Nazis were not unperceptive about Modern art – it’s just that they
did not like what they saw because it was really a split off part of
themselves.
DT: Yes – it had
power because it was.
DK: Yes, exactly.
Unless it had that power they would not have responded to it so
negatively.
DT: And they would
not have wanted to destroy
so much of the art. That’s why people hid the art both during and after
the war, which is why a lot of this art did not surface at auctions for
so long. Right after the war people kept the art hidden because they
were afraid it would end up being destroyed again.
DK: Sure
DT: But getting
back to my original question –
do you feel that when we speak about the relationship between Fascism
and the “Degenerate Art” show that this has a parallel with the
contemporary postmodern censorship that seems to enforce itself against
the validity of an emotional relationship to art…
DK: That’s a good point.
DT: For example the
way emotional or
expressionist art is downgraded; how this text from the Edvard Munch
exhibition focused on casting his art in the light of a marketeering
strategist. This was profoundly distorting and in my opinion shameful.
DK: I’m really curious.
I’ve never seen anything like that before.
DT: This is the
creepy part of my question:
It’s no longer about just the ignoring of expression, but trying to
marginalize and degrade it. It is a different program.
DK: It’s saying Munch
is inauthentic. It’s just an act.
DT: And that he’s a
hustler, that we are all the same, and that this is an everyday kind of
thing.
DK: And we all
understand it because we are all the same – exactly. Unbelievable.
Diane Thodos:
Do you see shades of George Orwell’s book “1984″ when the Whitney
Museum claims there is great diversity in art when there is just the
opposite?
Donald Kuspit: That’s
right.
DT: Claims that are
false and made up…
DK: Well there are a
lot of things happening, but
they are not showing it. Anyone who takes an ordinary stroll through
the range of galleries in New York can casually see all kind of
different styles, different modes etc. The real power today is the
power of money. Money is heavily invested in what used to be called
avant gardism –and that controls it. Also there is the need for fodder
for the machine.
DT: Novelty,
entertainment.
DK: Look at Capitalism;
it’s so wonderfully inventive and innovative…
DT: And it’s only
interested in its own self-sameness.
DK: Oh for sure.
DT: It’s only
interested in the absolute mirror
of its own image to itself and what is projected outward by the power
of it’s capital, its money, patronage, connections…
DK: That’s it. What
really needs to be studied is
not so much the artist but who’s buying the art and why they are buying
it – even more than the galleries. Like who is buying Koons, who is
buying McCarthey. Why is McCarthey getting the Sculpture award from
Skowhegan this year?
DT: That is a
profound perversity.
DK: I am telling you he
is getting the award this
year – or why is Bruce Nauman in the Whitney Biennale? Or let’s look at
it another way; let’s go to the Museum of Modern Art. Why do we have
pride of place, simply in terms of quantity of works given to Jackson
Pollock and Barnett Newman? You come into the Pollock room and you have
almost a dozen. You turn another direction and there is large Barnett
Newman piece. Then you have one or two Gorkys and you have a few
deKoonings. Why is this shown the way it is? No doubt they are moving
their collection around but there are certain fixtures that are there.
Why coming, into that third floor, do you have a Wyeth, Christina’s
World,
a few other “American Realist” works, and then boom – you come into
Modern art. [Before that] you have a Scheeler and a few other things –
what happened to Ben Shahn for example? You have a Hopper that is a
small example. Why are these artists not shown in depth?
DT: Right. Hopper
is a very significant artist.
DK: When you look at
their selection of German Expressionists they have a few Beckmanns;
they have The Departure. I’m talking about what I’ve seen the
last time I was there when Kippenberger was showing.
DT: There is a
prejudice for certain artists that follow a particular historical view.
DK: That’s right. A
certain reading of history.
DT: Getting into a
big subject here – on your
suggestion I have read Jacques Ellul’s book “The Technological Society”
[first published in 1964] and was struck by his prophetic insight about
the present. Can you briefly outline the most salient aspects of how
technique, that is, “creating systems of ever greater efficiency”
manifests itself in the current art world culture?
DK: I think it is, in a
way, very simple. There is
all this focus on video. My understanding of the Nauman show is that
there are going to be sound pieces, with all this high tech, low-tech
computer art. For me this is just an instrument. Look – it is like the
invention of the paint tube – the paint tube made Impressionism
possible. You could carry the tube out in plein air, where you didn’t
have to make sketches and then go into the studio. All kinds of people
were using paint tubes, but not everyone was a Monet: artists who we
honor and admire. I think there is now a fascination with technology
for the sake of technology. Technique for the sake of technique. This
paradox was already pointed out in the late 19th century by the so
called proto-existentialists – Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and so forth –
that the very success of instrumental reason in industrial society
reduces reason to simply a matter of technique.
DT: Yes. It’s more
and more efficient; it gets down to a formula.
DK: Not only do you get
more and more efficient, is
shuts out what you call the “dark area” – it shuts out emotion, because
emotion is inefficient.
DT: Well right.
It’s very inefficient, because its uneven, its unpredictable, it cannot
be streamlined.
DK: Yes, and it can’t
be short-circuited. If it
does it will kick back, it will come back. You can’t throw it out. You
can’t say, for example, typewriters are obsolete and computers are in,
so this kind of fear is obsolete and here’s this new kind of fear. You
can’t do that.
DT: No.
DK: It is too
unpredictable for a lot of people and
also involves what psychoanalysts call a “need for observing ego.” If
you are looking inside – what broadly what is termed introspection – in
a “Technological Society’ you do not want to be introspective. That’s
the last thing you want.
DT: That’s the last
thing a “Technological Society” wants.
DK: It doesn’t want
introspection. You turn inward
and you forget the techniques. Think about these Reality TV shows. All
these people confessing what they have done – they had a bad
relationship with someone etc. Think for a minute what is going on.
What happened to privacy? What happened to the need to do what analysts
call the working it through. Instead of working it through they are
acting it out – performing it. They have real and serious problems.
DT: Reality TV can
be very exploitive.
DK: That’s a good word,
but it’s not the whole
story. They are performing and they think if they perform that will
solve the problem.
DT: In other words
they feel the need to do this in front of Judge Judy or whatever.
DK: Yes, exactly. Say
there is a problem of
somebody swindling someone else or they did not pay back a loan. They
think if they are performing it in front of a camera somehow that’s
going to solve the problem. They are very exhibitionist.
DT: Which is
totally deceptive.
DK: Exactly, but that
is part of the technology.
Spectacle is connected to technology. You can create these fantastic
Hollywood spectacles that are dazzling.
DT: But they seem
to be about nothing…
DK: Well that’s the
point.
DT: It’s not like
watching an Andre Tarkovsky
film where you get this incredible Dostoyevskian poetic depth. Have you
seen his films?
DK: I have seen some of
them.
DT: Like “Andre Rublev”, “Solaris”,
“My Name is Ivan”, “The Sacrifice”…
DK: Yes.
DT: And also Ingmar
Bergman has extremely profound films. You don’t walk out of a Bergman
film without being affected…
DK: Well you see there
the camera is a means. He
uses it very subtly – for example with the use of dark shadows – and he
focuses on certain issues, and those issues aren’t going away. He works
them through in a process. It is interesting you mention him because
recently I saw his film The Virgin Spring.
DT: That’s an
amazing film.
DK: Yes. It just goes
on and on and on, and you are working it through. It’s not just an act.
DT: He holds the
traumatic moment with this tremendous tenderness and anguish at the
same time…
DK: The key word is
Trauma there
DT: He is very
traumatized…
DK: He is willing to
express the trauma of existence, even when he is lighthearted.
DT: Even so.
DK: The camera becomes
part of the experience. It is dominating the experience, or becoming
the spectator of the experience.
DT: It is a witness
to an internal experience that is amazingly constructed.
DK: Thinking of that
what comes to mind is Robert
Redford in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby”. It’s all pose, you
get the profile, and there is no depth or sense of internal life. What
the camera’s doing – actually something I like about the film- is it’s
highlighting all the secondary features. There is no human being there.
DT: You mean all
the sets and the lighting….
DK: It’s very
interesting to see this – the sets, the clothing, the environments they
create – this Americana scene.
DT: It’s quite a
formulaic kind of film.
DK: It’s formulaic, but
the formulaic is true to the American values!
DT: That is what
America is very much based on.
DK: When people talk
about Americanization they are talking about standardization with a
vengeance.
DT: Very much so.
DK: And even
customization which grows out of standardization.
DT: A janitor can
use it to clean up the museum later on.
DK: That’s right, but
he’s not interested in that. What he is interesting in is the exhibition
value – a term that [Walter] Benjamin uses…
DT: …is that the
“aura” of an object, or something different?
DK: It is a different
theory. It subsumes what Marx called use value and exchange
value. The thing acquires its use value and exchange value by
being exhibited. The moment it is exhibited it becomes this technique
of exhibition, of staging.
Think for example of Warhol who begins by doing windows for Bonwit
Teller. Rosenquist begins by doing advertising posters. That is staging
a product – a commodity – in some way.
DT: Right.
DK: It’s now called
“incentive marketing.”
DT: It’s like you
could put a pair of shoes in
a thrift shop and no one would see them. If you put them in a window
for Bonwit Teller and surround them with all the right accoutrements
you can sell them for $500.
DK: Right.
DT: So it is all
contextually based on how it is presented.
DK: That’s exactly it.
There was a very decisive
moment in the sociology of art, in our business culture – generally –
the Warhol idea…
DT: He said,
“Business art is the best art”…
DK: Yes – but remember
when there used to be the
Soho Guggenheim that was at the corner of Prince Street and West
Broadway? It closed and was replaced by a Prada store. It is
still there. The Prada store was designed by Rem Koolhaus – a
very hot architect – you know who he is.
DT: Yes.
DK: I don’t think they
do this anymore, but the
shoes are brought out every morning and exhibited like precious
objects. Remember [Hiam] Steinbach who showed sneakers…
DT: Yes, garbage
cans and masks and things on display shelves…
DK: Well he did
sneakers too. He had a whole
exhibit of sneakers and I showed this to my class. A student said “Oh
God I wish I had those; those are collector’s items.” They were brand
new sneakers from a certain period – the 70’s – and they were 50 years
old.
DT: A collector’s
item – even though they are everyday kitsch stuff.
DK: That’s right.
That’s what happens; everything
becomes collectable. So the point is here was this place which had been
an art site but now becomes, shall we say, another art site that is
fused with business and the product.
DT: A quasi
museum/store.
DK: Yes, quasi
museum/store. I don’t know whether
these shoes are worth whatever the price is. Another example; you may
remember up in Chelsea there is a Comme Des Garcons store
that looks like a hole in the wall from the outside.
DT: Yes, I was in
there.
DK: You go in this high
tech metal tunnel, and then you enter. There are these dungarees with
tears in them for $350 a shot.
DT: You are paying
for an experience I guess.
DK: You are paying for
aesthetic marketing and the people who are the salesmen are more like Maitre
d’s that are doing you a favor by showing you to your table…
DT: It’s extremely
pretentious garbage.
DK: Yes, but you see
that’s an outside judgment; you are not becoming part of the
spectacle/exhibition.
DT: No, I don’t
trust it, but it works.
DK: It is the art
industry – it works…
DT: Yes, it
obviously wouldn’t be there if it didn’t work. It’s all about sales.
DK: Marketing
is the term that is used.
DT: Is marketing as
you see it – the way this
American Capitalist marketing system operates – part of the efficiency
of “technique” in a sense?
DK: That’s very well
put, yes. I think it is part of the efficiency of technique;
but it also may be technique running away with itself. You
finally have to ask what’s the value of technique?
DT: Is it a sort of
absolutization of “technique” for its own sake?
DK: Well – let’s talk
about cameras. Everybody’s
got a camera. Taking photographs is useful, but when you think about it
you got the camera so you got to take the photograph because if you
don’t take the photograph then the camera is useless. So you have to
use the technique to get the value. There is the person of
the American tourist. They go to Versailles or the Eiffel Tower and
they take their photograph. They look at the photograph – not at the
building or structure. They don’t see it. They don’t have a perceptual
experience.
DT: They don’t
linger and wonder about qualities of what is before them.
DK: They say “ I have
been to the Eiffel Tower,
here is my photograph, I took it at this particular date: look there’s
proof, it’s printed out on the side of the film”. So technique
takes over the experience when it is meant to serve the experience. You
need technique; but if technique takes over the
whole process then what is the point of it?
DT: So the question
is who is in control, which
leads to the next question. Has “technique” become so all encompassing
that individual initiative is completely excluded within the context of
the art world would you say?
DK: No, I think agency
is still possible, but I think the agency has to fight. It has to
somehow break the compliance to the technique.
That is a paradox because in the Modern Art movement the artists broke
compliance to every Old Master technique around – then any piece of
junk could become art.
DT: So all the
rules were broken and then there were none.
DK: And that was the
rule: break the rules.
DT: And then there
were no rules. So we now have chaos.
DK: That’s right.
DT: It’s total
chaos and it’s all up for grabs.
DK: What is the meaning?
DT: There is no
meaning left. On that point,
what advice would you give an art student entering a university program
regarding what you refer to as the “organic” and “existential”
necessity of art? I know this is a very generic question, but in fact I
have met a lot of people in art programs who find themselves bumping
around lost in a labyrinth without a light. They do not really
understand why they are dissatisfied with their school experience.
DK: The only thing you
can get out of art school –
the main reason art school should be around – is it should teach you
every technique that has ever been around; from stained glass to
carving stone to working with video. You should learn every technique.
DT: Painting,
printmaking…it should be a pluralistic experience of all media.
DK: Exactly – of all
media.
DT: And it isn’t
anymore in many places.
DK: They want to get
rid of the “hand”…
DT: They want to
get rid of drawing, painting,
and traditional art. So what would you say to a student to be on their
guard against the kinds of programs that may wish to have them narrow
their scope?
DK: Stay away.
DT: Stay away and
don’t enroll.
DK: Unless you want to
have success for five minutes after getting out of the program – it’s
shorter than 15 minutes these days.
DT: There has been
a tremendous degradation in a lot of art education.
DK: Yes. I think it’s a
disaster.
DT: And what has
brought this about?
DK: Conceptualism.
DT: Conceptualism
wants to create it’s own self-fulfilling propaganda and have no
dialectical relationship outside of that?
DK: There are certain
modes of stylistic dominance
as well as technological dominance. I remember [sculptor] George Segal
who went to art school here in New York. He was very interested in
German Expressionism and figuration. His professor told him “You’re an
idiot – you don’t want to go that way; abstraction is the way to go.”
It’s the truth. He writes about this. I’m quoting him now.
DT: Incredible.
DK: He just stuck with
it and made this special
amalgamation of expressionism and the figure – but he had the strength
of will to do that.
DT: So you need the
strength of will to
separate yourself from the things that do not give you the diversity of
experience you need?
DK: You cannot fall for
any party line. There are always professors who say, “This is the
way to do it.” But that’s the way they’re
doing it, and usually when they’re doing it, it’s reified. It doesn’t
necessarily have to be this way. There are people like Ad Reinhardt who
was a professor at Brooklyn College for a long time. He had his own
ideas of art but from what I understand he sort of encouraged other
modes. I don’t know how it works that way. I have seen a lot of works
by one student of Hans Hoffmann, a woman student, and he went over [her
work] and in fact turned everything into a Hans Hoffmann – so there’s a
problem.
DT: There is the
problem of this sort of a dogmatic overlay?
DK: You have professors
who are very concerned about their own identities and want…
DT: …the
perpetuation of their own system?
DK: Right. Students
reinforce it the more students
you get – and that will end up with the kiss of death. A famous example
of this is Frank Lloyd Wright who developed a school of architecture,
but no significant architect of similar stature to him has emerged from
it. You got some very good architects working in the Frank Lloyd Wright
mode, so it’s very good to have a master but…
DT: …individualism
becomes subsumed by the larger purview?
DK: And there is the
argument that Harold Rosenberg
made in relation to Arshile Gorky, that his apprenticeship was good –
Picasso to Miro – and his work was quite different from theirs,
derivative but an interesting derivation at that. So it’s tricky. You
have to be an apprentice somewhere and learn thoroughly one mode that
you are inclined to, but then you have to have the guts to sort of
break with it but develop it, move it somewhere else or get to your own
creativity on the basis of it. But In art school you also have a great
opportunity for a real learning experience: to learn all the media and
to learn art history.
DT: So you have to
be very selective about the
school you choose: that it offers the range that gives you an
opportunity to learn.
DK: I think the Bauhaus
had a good idea. That seems
to be, from what I have read about it, the model. The first year of
apprenticeship you had to learn all the properties of all kinds of
materials and all kinds of techniques. Then if you finished this you
were admitted and you worked with a master – but that didn’t mean you
had to work in the master’s manner. He would just sort of critique you,
if I understand it correctly.
DT: So we have a
problem today with there being this attempt by the art world to
canonize the past and rigidify it…
DK: …A certain limited
past…
DT: Yes, a certain
limited past. There is a lot
of censorship which disallows students from going back to learn certain
modes of art making. Is this because there are a lot of teachers who
don’t know these techniques are just trying to, pardon the expression,
“cover their asses” because they lack the knowledge?
DK: That’s one way of
putting it but I don’t think so. They just don’t believe in the art
techniques.
DT: They don’t
“believe” in them?
DK: They don’t believe
in them. “Who wants to paint? It’s obsolete. The death of painting.
Who wants to paint? I can do it all on video.” I have heard students
say this. I have heard teachers say this. You must know this.
DT: We really are
in a “post-art” age.
DK: Yes. Exactly.
DT: That is
precisely the point.
DK: It’s all
conceptual.
DT: Producing
pseudoistic stand-ins for what art was.
DK: And also art
doesn’t become a learning experience anymore.
DT: No and it’s not
connected to life. It
really has to be “disconnected” from life for – as you have written – a
student to become a card-carrying member of the “contemporary art”
party. It has to be “disconnected” from emotional life, which is really
the death knell of art ‘s potential.
DK: Or your emotion can
be focused through this
mode. I think it is still possible for example to make very interesting
Abstract Expressionist works today. I have seen some.
DT: I myself as a
critic have always tried to
find artists who have that emotional connection to what they do,
whether it is figurative, surrealist…
DK: And that the
emotion somehow comes through the work.
DT: Yes.
DK: There is a
transference in fact.
DT: Well, the work
can stand on it’s own. It
does not need texts. A single image can arrest you and engage you
because of the power of what is inherent in it.
DK: I’m with you
completely.
DT: Getting back to
the issue of exclusion and
censorship I remember once you talked about – and I think it’s
absolutely true – in the late 80’s how women were starting to enter the
art world more and more but their work was very novelty oriented in the
neo-conceptual art mode.
DK: I think that has
changed.
DT: You have found
different types of women artists today?
DK: It has been a lucky
experience that I have met
women artists in their 60’s who have been working for years and who I
think are making pretty profound art.
DT: Wonderful. Name
some names.
DK: Lynn Stern is a
first rate photographer. She’s
done incredible images of death heads in black and white. When she was
shown in a New York Gallery the images were too strong. Nobody wants to
look at skulls.
DT: Well, I don’t
know. For me it was hard to
look at the Otto Dix “War” series but the fourth time I looked at them
they sunk in. For me his skulls made a reverberation over time.
DK: You have to be in
touch with death inside
yourself first of all. So she is one. I have supported these people and
we just sort of met. Maybe it has something to do with the fact of my
age. I am interested in older artists, older women artists, and women
artists who know how to work with materials, whatever their material is
– paint or black and white photography – and who have a certain serious
intentions.
DT: Like Alice Neel?
DK: Some of these
people are even more interesting.
DT: Really? That’s
good to hear.
DK: That’s my opinion –
but Alice Neel is fine. Maybe it ‘s because these are people of my
generation.
DT: That is a very
important point because their schooling would have dated from a time
when you could learn techniques.
DK: Yes. That’s quite
true
DT: And now I don’t
think you can. When I look
at my alma mater Carnegie-Mellon University in Pittsburgh, students
aren’t producing anything like the variety of art that was there in the
early 80’s. I was very lucky to get the figure drawing and painting
training that I did; it is no longer available at the same school.
DK: What these artists
have is also a persistent
curiosity about learning and are knowledgeable about many other things.
They completely develop themselves. They are not resting wherever they
have been. They have open horizons.
DT: So it’s like
the stream of life is the effective force that brings the art along, as
witness to it.
DK: That’s part of it,
but also there’s a very solid sense of what it is to make art.
DT: Yes. There’s no
confusion; no jumping on the trend wagon.
DK: No. They know their
history and have a certain
way of doing things. They keep developing it and the works are fairly
stunning.
DT: So there is a
concentrated essence that keeps evolving.
DK: Yes.
DT: When I was a
student here in New York at
School of Visual Arts from 1987 – 1989, one thing that confused me
tremendously was how trends occurred in the art world. The artists who
would hop on the bandwagon to imitate these trends kept changing their
style. Then you’d get weird hybridizations of the last trend with the
present one. For example you’d get Neo-Expressionism with some
conceptualism mixed in.
DK: They had no
identity of their own.
DT: Yes, it was
very confusing.
DK: But of course SVA
has always been about being au courant
about whatever is “hot.” I haven’t been there for a while. There are
always certain places that think that it is important to attract
students because they are a place that is “with it.” You got to do
latest “thing” and this will help you “make it.”
DT: I was in the
graduate painting program.
DK: What year were you
there?
DT: I was in New
York from 1987 – 1992 starting
with two years graduate school when you were my teacher. I continued
taking your class because I worked for SVA and was allowed one free
class, so it was for five years total. Frankly I wanted to continue
because you were the only person I knew who could answer the questions
I had about what was really going on in the art world. It made a big
difference in my life.
DK: That may be before
I was disillusioned.
DT: Well, yeah,
before the art world completely
destroyed itself – before it imploded. I remember you saying back then
that the art world was like a jet without a pilot. It had powerful
force but had absolutely no steering to determine its course.
DK: The pilots are now
people like Saatchi who invent whole movements.
DT: They have
hijacked the plane.
DK: Yes. There is a
book you should read called Supercollector: A Critique of Charles
Saatchi
by John Walker and Rita Hatton. It’s really worth looking at. I did a
review of it years ago when it first appeared. Walker is a sometime
artist and admits that the book is sort of Marxist in orientation; but
what he and Rita Hatton have done is an absolutely brilliant piece of
investigative reporting and documentation of the Saatchis from the very
beginning and with artist’s comments about what it is like dealing with
them; just well researched like you’ve never imagined.
DT: I’m going to
want to read this.
DK: I reviewed it years
ago for artnet.com.
DT: I will
certainly be checking it out.
DK: Walker also did a
first rate little book about
media and art. He has a very smart mind and as researcher is very
perceptive. The book on Saatchi is just incredible. Sacchi got where he
is through advertising. He invented Margaret Thatcher. Walker documents
this.
DT: Yes, he ran the
ad agency that put Thatcher on the map.
DK: Whatever you may
think of Thatcher, Saatchi
understood the connection of art and advertising in a way that even
Warhol didn’t – the connection of art and publicity. Did you ever read
from the series I have on artnet.com, A Critical History of 20th
Century Art?
DT: Yes. I’m about
three quarters of the way through.
DK: I have a whole
section on publicity. Henri Lefebvre wrote Publicity is the Only
Ideology of our Time. It is the quote heading one of the chapters.
He’s a French sociologist and very brilliant. He wrote the book Everyday
Life in the Modern World. But Saatchi knew how to take over
publicity, just like Damien Hirst does.
DT: He’s got his
own auction going. You’d think it’s about the efficiency of technique
brought to a hyper level of being.
DK: Plus the power of
money. I was in Amsterdam not
too long ago and I went to the Rijks Museum – a classic museum. The
Rijks was being restored and rebuilt but they kept one section where
they had a number of their older works. When I went there – and I
didn’t know this would be the case – they had Damien Hirst’s diamond
skull on display. Not only did they have the diamond skull, but also at
the beginning of every room – and it’s no exaggeration – they had a
little plaque that said something like “if you keep on going you will
get to the Damien Hirst Skull.” I didn’t ever see anything saying “if
you keep on going you will get to Rembrandt’s Night Watch.”
So then you got to a room that was roped off like for a movie marquee
with a velvet rope which you stand behind. Then you went into a room,
and there it was alone. I was really irritated by this thing.
DT: That is just
perverse beyond imagination…
DK: This is not the end
of it. The signs lead
through a circuit because there was a part of the museum that was cut
off. There was one last room where they had arranged a nice selection
of old master works, relatively small, with a little text explaining
provenance etc. discreetly next to each. Above each of these works in
bigger lettering and in a different coloring (I think it was pink) was
a commentary by Hirst on each of these works. The most insipid banal
crap I have ever heard as comments: so he gets the voice over this old
master art and then people read it. When you exited, following the
circuit, you noticed on the side there was a big black Damien Hirst
tent, and if you liked you could go in there to buy catalogs and write
your comments. So I met the director of exhibitions at Gemente Museum
in The Hague and I said “what is going on here? Has anyone protested?
Is that what the Reichs Museum is about?”
DT: It destroys the
credibility of the institution.
DK: Exactly. He said
there was a new director and he wants to bring in more people.
DT: What a total
joke.
DK: But that’s what
it’s about. He told me that
Hirst had a contract – something like a hundred page contract – that
everything had to be done just so. The assumption is that the museum
got a lot of money for this, and they just followed the contract to the
letter allowing the artist to control. The artist took control just
like he did with the auction. What are we interested in here? We are
interested in the demonstration of power. We are interested in the
spectacle and what he as done is degrade the other art with his insipid
comments. It is not historical interpretation of any kind or critical
consciousness. There is a skull with diamonds in it for 20 million
dollars: everybody is looking at the money
Continued in Part 6
Category: Donald
Kuspit Interview 4
comments »
Diane Thodos: Do you feel, in reference to
Jacque Ellul’s book “The Technological Society”, that technique as an
absolute standardization of means also relates to how artists have
become these sort of glorified commercial producers of brand name
products: in other words formatting the product to streamline the
marketing system? For example there’s hundreds and hundreds of these
post painterly abstractions all equally looking like slightly decadent
wallpaper patterns of some sort or other…
Donald Kuspit: That’s one way of putting it. Let’s
put in another way. Let’s take Mr. Koons who is always a good example:
a sort of capitalist art about Capitalism. Now here’s a commodity;
taking something we know – a vacuum cleaner – and it’s new. So there’s newness,
and it’s American,
and it’s “art” which is supposedly to “make it new. “ What he is doing
by putting it in a vitrine and exhibiting it as art is he gives it this
exhibition value, which is the only art value now.
What he is doing is highlighting something that is meant to be
exhibited, initially, to get you to buy it – and then it has certain
use value.
DT: A janitor can use it to clean up the museum
later on.
DK: That’s right, but he’s not interested in that.
What he is interesting in is the exhibition value – a term
that [Walter] Benjamin uses…
DT: …is that the “aura” of an object, or
something different?
DK: It is a different theory. It subsumes what Marx
called use value and exchange value. The thing
acquires its use value and exchange value by being exhibited. The
moment it is exhibited it becomes this technique of exhibition,
of staging.
Think for example of Warhol who begins by doing windows for Bonwit
Teller. Rosenquist begins by doing advertising posters. That is staging
a product – a commodity – in some way.
DT: Right.
DK: It’s now called “incentive marketing.”
DT: It’s like you could put a pair of shoes in
a thrift shop and no one would see them. If you put them in a window
for Bonwit Teller and surround them with all the right accoutrements
you can sell them for $500.
DK: Right.
DT: So it is all contextually based on how it
is presented.
DK: That’s exactly it. There was a very decisive
moment in the sociology of art, in our business culture – generally –
the Warhol idea…
DT: He said, “Business art is the best art”…
DK: Yes – but remember when there used to be the
Soho Guggenheim that was at the corner of Prince Street and West
Broadway? It closed and was replaced by a Prada store. It is
still there. The Prada store was designed by Rem Koolhaus – a
very hot architect – you know who he is.
DT: Yes.
DK: I don’t think they do this anymore, but the
shoes are brought out every morning and exhibited like precious
objects. Remember [Hiam] Steinbach who showed sneakers…
DT: Yes, garbage cans and masks and things on
display shelves…
DK: Well he did sneakers too. He had a whole
exhibit of sneakers and I showed this to my class. A student said “Oh
God I wish I had those; those are collector’s items.” They were brand
new sneakers from a certain period – the 70’s – and they were 50 years
old.
DT: A collector’s item – even though they are
everyday kitsch stuff.
DK: That’s right. That’s what happens; everything
becomes collectable. So the point is here was this place which had been
an art site but now becomes, shall we say, another art site that is
fused with business and the product.
DT: A quasi museum/store.
DK: Yes, quasi museum/store. I don’t know whether
these shoes are worth whatever the price is. Another example; you may
remember up in Chelsea there is a Comme Des Garcons store
that looks like a hole in the wall from the outside.
DT: Yes, I was in there.
DK: You go in this high tech metal tunnel, and then
you enter. There are these dungarees with tears in them for $350 a shot.
DT: You are paying for an experience I guess.
DK: You are paying for aesthetic marketing and the
people who are the salesmen are more like Maitre d’s that are
doing you a favor by showing you to your table…
DT: It’s extremely pretentious garbage.
DK: Yes, but you see that’s an outside judgment;
you are not becoming part of the spectacle/exhibition.
DT: No, I don’t trust it, but it works.
DK: It is the art industry – it works…
DT: Yes, it obviously wouldn’t be there if it
didn’t work. It’s all about sales.
DK: Marketing is the term that is used.
DT: Is marketing as you see it – the way this
American Capitalist marketing system operates – part of the efficiency
of “technique” in a sense?
DK: That’s very well put, yes. I think it is part
of the efficiency of technique; but it also may be technique
running away with itself. You finally have to ask what’s the value
of technique?
DT: Is it a sort of absolutization of
“technique” for its own sake?
DK: Well – let’s talk about cameras. Everybody’s
got a camera. Taking photographs is useful, but when you think about it
you got the camera so you got to take the photograph because if you
don’t take the photograph then the camera is useless. So you have to
use the technique to get the value. There is the person of
the American tourist. They go to Versailles or the Eiffel Tower and
they take their photograph. They look at the photograph – not at the
building or structure. They don’t see it. They don’t have a perceptual
experience.
DT: They don’t linger and wonder about
qualities of what is before them.
DK: They say “ I have been to the Eiffel Tower,
here is my photograph, I took it at this particular date: look there’s
proof, it’s printed out on the side of the film”. So technique
takes over the experience when it is meant to serve the experience. You
need technique; but if technique takes over the
whole process then what is the point of it?
DT: So the question is who is in control, which
leads to the next question. Has “technique” become so all encompassing
that individual initiative is completely excluded within the context of
the art world would you say?
DK: No, I think agency is still possible,
but I think the agency has to fight. It has to somehow break the
compliance to the technique.
That is a paradox because in the Modern Art movement the artists broke
compliance to every Old Master technique around – then any piece of
junk could become art.
DT: So all the rules were broken and then there
were none.
DK: And that was the rule: break the rules.
DT: And then there were no rules. So we now
have chaos.
DK: That’s right.
DT: It’s total chaos and it’s all up for grabs.
DK: What is the meaning?
DT: There is no meaning left. On that point,
what advice would you give an art student entering a university program
regarding what you refer to as the “organic” and “existential”
necessity of art? I know this is a very generic question, but in fact I
have met a lot of people in art programs who find themselves bumping
around lost in a labyrinth without a light. They do not really
understand why they are dissatisfied with their school experience.
DK: The only thing you can get out of art school –
the main reason art school should be around – is it should teach you
every technique that has ever been around; from stained glass to
carving stone to working with video. You should learn every technique.
DT: Painting, printmaking…it should be a
pluralistic experience of all media.
DK: Exactly – of all media.
DT: And it isn’t anymore in many places.
DK: They want to get rid of the “hand”…
DT: They want to get rid of drawing, painting,
and traditional art. So what would you say to a student to be on their
guard against the kinds of programs that may wish to have them narrow
their scope?
DK: Stay away.
DT: Stay away and don’t enroll.
DK: Unless you want to have success for five
minutes after getting out of the program – it’s shorter than 15 minutes
these days.
DT: There has been a tremendous degradation in
a lot of art education.
DK: Yes. I think it’s a disaster.
DT: And what has brought this about?
DK: Conceptualism.
DT: Conceptualism wants to create it’s own
self-fulfilling propaganda and have no dialectical relationship outside
of that?
DK: There are certain modes of stylistic dominance
as well as technological dominance. I remember [sculptor] George Segal
who went to art school here in New York. He was very interested in
German Expressionism and figuration. His professor told him “You’re an
idiot – you don’t want to go that way; abstraction is the way to go.”
It’s the truth. He writes about this. I’m quoting him now.
DT: Incredible.
DK: He just stuck with it and made this special
amalgamation of expressionism and the figure – but he had the strength
of will to do that.
DT: So you need the strength of will to
separate yourself from the things that do not give you the diversity of
experience you need?
DK: You cannot fall for any party line. There are
always professors who say, “This is the way to do it.” But
that’s the way they’re
doing it, and usually when they’re doing it, it’s reified. It doesn’t
necessarily have to be this way. There are people like Ad Reinhardt who
was a professor at Brooklyn College for a long time. He had his own
ideas of art but from what I understand he sort of encouraged other
modes. I don’t know how it works that way. I have seen a lot of works
by one student of Hans Hoffmann, a woman student, and he went over [her
work] and in fact turned everything into a Hans Hoffmann – so there’s a
problem.
DT: There is the problem of this sort of a
dogmatic overlay?
DK: You have professors who are very concerned
about their own identities and want…
DT: …the perpetuation of their own system?
DK: Right. Students reinforce it the more students
you get – and that will end up with the kiss of death. A famous example
of this is Frank Lloyd Wright who developed a school of architecture,
but no significant architect of similar stature to him has emerged from
it. You got some very good architects working in the Frank Lloyd Wright
mode, so it’s very good to have a master but…
DT: …individualism becomes subsumed by the
larger purview?
DK: And there is the argument that Harold Rosenberg
made in relation to Arshile Gorky, that his apprenticeship was good –
Picasso to Miro – and his work was quite different from theirs,
derivative but an interesting derivation at that. So it’s tricky. You
have to be an apprentice somewhere and learn thoroughly one mode that
you are inclined to, but then you have to have the guts to sort of
break with it but develop it, move it somewhere else or get to your own
creativity on the basis of it. But In art school you also have a great
opportunity for a real learning experience: to learn all the media and
to learn art history.
DT: So you have to be very selective about the
school you choose: that it offers the range that gives you an
opportunity to learn.
DK: I think the Bauhaus had a good idea. That seems
to be, from what I have read about it, the model. The first year of
apprenticeship you had to learn all the properties of all kinds of
materials and all kinds of techniques. Then if you finished this you
were admitted and you worked with a master – but that didn’t mean you
had to work in the master’s manner. He would just sort of critique you,
if I understand it correctly.
DT: So we have a problem today with there being
this attempt by the art world to canonize the past and rigidify it…
DK: …A certain limited past…
DT: Yes, a certain limited past. There is a lot
of censorship which disallows students from going back to learn certain
modes of art making. Is this because there are a lot of teachers who
don’t know these techniques are just trying to, pardon the expression,
“cover their asses” because they lack the knowledge?
DK: That’s one way of putting it but I don’t think
so. They just don’t believe in the art techniques.
DT: They don’t “believe” in them?
DK: They don’t believe in them. “Who wants to
paint? It’s obsolete. The death of painting.
Who wants to paint? I can do it all on video.” I have heard students
say this. I have heard teachers say this. You must know this.
DT: We really are in a “post-art” age.
DK: Yes. Exactly.
DT: That is precisely the point.
DK: It’s all conceptual.
DT: Producing pseudoistic stand-ins for what
art was.
DK: And also art doesn’t become a learning
experience anymore.
DT: No and it’s not connected to life. It
really has to be “disconnected” from life for – as you have written – a
student to become a card-carrying member of the “contemporary art”
party. It has to be “disconnected” from emotional life, which is really
the death knell of art ‘s potential.
DK: Or your emotion can be focused through this
mode. I think it is still possible for example to make very interesting
Abstract Expressionist works today. I have seen some.
DT: I myself as a critic have always tried to
find artists who have that emotional connection to what they do,
whether it is figurative, surrealist…
DK: And that the emotion somehow comes through the
work.
DT: Yes.
DK: There is a transference in fact.
DT: Well, the work can stand on it’s own. It
does not need texts. A single image can arrest you and engage you
because of the power of what is inherent in it.
DK: I’m with you completely.
DT: Getting back to the issue of exclusion and
censorship I remember once you talked about – and I think it’s
absolutely true – in the late 80’s how women were starting to enter the
art world more and more but their work was very novelty oriented in the
neo-conceptual art mode.
DK: I think that has changed.
DT: You have found different types of women
artists today?
DK: It has been a lucky experience that I have met
women artists in their 60’s who have been working for years and who I
think are making pretty profound art.
DT: Wonderful. Name some names.
DK: Lynn Stern is a first rate photographer. She’s
done incredible images of death heads in black and white. When she was
shown in a New York Gallery the images were too strong. Nobody wants to
look at skulls.
DT: Well, I don’t know. For me it was hard to
look at the Otto Dix “War” series but the fourth time I looked at them
they sunk in. For me his skulls made a reverberation over time.
DK: You have to be in touch with death inside
yourself first of all. So she is one. I have supported these people and
we just sort of met. Maybe it has something to do with the fact of my
age. I am interested in older artists, older women artists, and women
artists who know how to work with materials, whatever their material is
– paint or black and white photography – and who have a certain serious
intentions.
DT: Like Alice Neel?
DK: Some of these people are even more interesting.
DT: Really? That’s good to hear.
DK: That’s my opinion – but Alice Neel is fine.
Maybe it ‘s because these are people of my generation.
DT: That is a very important point because
their schooling would have dated from a time when you could learn
techniques.
DK: Yes. That’s quite true
DT: And now I don’t think you can. When I look
at my alma mater Carnegie-Mellon University in Pittsburgh, students
aren’t producing anything like the variety of art that was there in the
early 80’s. I was very lucky to get the figure drawing and painting
training that I did; it is no longer available at the same school.
DK: What these artists have is also a persistent
curiosity about learning and are knowledgeable about many other things.
They completely develop themselves. They are not resting wherever they
have been. They have open horizons.
DT: So it’s like the stream of life is the
effective force that brings the art along, as witness to it.
DK: That’s part of it, but also there’s a very
solid sense of what it is to make art.
DT: Yes. There’s no confusion; no jumping on
the trend wagon.
DK: No. They know their history and have a certain
way of doing things. They keep developing it and the works are fairly
stunning.
DT: So there is a concentrated essence that
keeps evolving.
DK: Yes.
DT: When I was a student here in New York at
School of Visual Arts from 1987 – 1989, one thing that confused me
tremendously was how trends occurred in the art world. The artists who
would hop on the bandwagon to imitate these trends kept changing their
style. Then you’d get weird hybridizations of the last trend with the
present one. For example you’d get Neo-Expressionism with some
conceptualism mixed in.
DK: They had no identity of their own.
DT: Yes, it was very confusing.
DK: But of course SVA has always been about being au
courant
about whatever is “hot.” I haven’t been there for a while. There are
always certain places that think that it is important to attract
students because they are a place that is “with it.” You got to do
latest “thing” and this will help you “make it.”
DT: I was in the graduate painting program.
DK: What year were you there?
DT: I was in New York from 1987 – 1992 starting
with two years graduate school when you were my teacher. I continued
taking your class because I worked for SVA and was allowed one free
class, so it was for five years total. Frankly I wanted to continue
because you were the only person I knew who could answer the questions
I had about what was really going on in the art world. It made a big
difference in my life.
DK: That may be before I was disillusioned.
DT: Well, yeah, before the art world completely
destroyed itself – before it imploded. I remember you saying back then
that the art world was like a jet without a pilot. It had powerful
force but had absolutely no steering to determine its course.
DK: The pilots are now people like Saatchi who
invent whole movements.
DT: They have hijacked the plane.
DK: Yes. There is a book you should read called Supercollector:
A Critique of Charles Saatchi
by John Walker and Rita Hatton. It’s really worth looking at. I did a
review of it years ago when it first appeared. Walker is a sometime
artist and admits that the book is sort of Marxist in orientation; but
what he and Rita Hatton have done is an absolutely brilliant piece of
investigative reporting and documentation of the Saatchis from the very
beginning and with artist’s comments about what it is like dealing with
them; just well researched like you’ve never imagined.
DT: I’m going to want to read this.
DK: I reviewed it years ago for artnet.com.
DT: I will certainly be checking it out.
DK: Walker also did a first rate little book about
media and art. He has a very smart mind and as researcher is very
perceptive. The book on Saatchi is just incredible. Sacchi got where he
is through advertising. He invented Margaret Thatcher. Walker documents
this.
DT: Yes, he ran the ad agency that put Thatcher
on the map.
DK: Whatever you may think of Thatcher, Saatchi
understood the connection of art and advertising in a way that even
Warhol didn’t – the connection of art and publicity. Did you ever read
from the series I have on artnet.com, A Critical History of 20th
Century Art?
DT: Yes. I’m about three quarters of the way
through.
DK: I have a whole section on publicity. Henri
Lefebvre wrote Publicity is the Only Ideology of our Time. It
is the quote heading one of the chapters. He’s a French sociologist and
very brilliant. He wrote the book Everyday Life in the Modern
World. But Saatchi knew how to take over publicity, just like
Damien Hirst does.
DT: He’s got his own auction going. You’d think
it’s about the efficiency of technique brought to a hyper level of
being.
DK: Plus the power of money. I was in Amsterdam not
too long ago and I went to the Rijks Museum – a classic museum. The
Rijks was being restored and rebuilt but they kept one section where
they had a number of their older works. When I went there – and I
didn’t know this would be the case – they had Damien Hirst’s diamond
skull on display. Not only did they have the diamond skull, but also at
the beginning of every room – and it’s no exaggeration – they had a
little plaque that said something like “if you keep on going you will
get to the Damien Hirst Skull.” I didn’t ever see anything saying “if
you keep on going you will get to Rembrandt’s Night Watch.”
So then you got to a room that was roped off like for a movie marquee
with a velvet rope which you stand behind. Then you went into a room,
and there it was alone. I was really irritated by this thing.
DT: That is just perverse beyond imagination…
DK: This is not the end of it. The signs lead
through a circuit because there was a part of the museum that was cut
off. There was one last room where they had arranged a nice selection
of old master works, relatively small, with a little text explaining
provenance etc. discreetly next to each. Above each of these works in
bigger lettering and in a different coloring (I think it was pink) was
a commentary by Hirst on each of these works. The most insipid banal
crap I have ever heard as comments: so he gets the voice over this old
master art and then people read it. When you exited, following the
circuit, you noticed on the side there was a big black Damien Hirst
tent, and if you liked you could go in there to buy catalogs and write
your comments. So I met the director of exhibitions at Gemente Museum
in The Hague and I said “what is going on here? Has anyone protested?
Is that what the Reichs Museum is about?”
DT: It destroys the credibility of the
institution.
DK: Exactly. He said there was a new director and
he wants to bring in more people.
DT: What a total joke.
DK: But that’s what it’s about. He told me that
Hirst had a contract – something like a hundred page contract – that
everything had to be done just so. The assumption is that the museum
got a lot of money for this, and they just followed the contract to the
letter allowing the artist to control. The artist took control just
like he did with the auction. What are we interested in here? We are
interested in the demonstration of power. We are interested in the
spectacle and what he as done is degrade the other art with his insipid
comments. It is not historical interpretation of any kind or critical
consciousness. There is a skull with diamonds in it for 20 million
dollars: everybody is looking at the money
Donald Kuspit: You know
what has happened to art
now? It is exactly like the way the magazines announce a movie that is
opening. They say, “This movie is the best because it brought in 20
million dollars” and “this movie number two because the first weekend
it brought in 18 million.” Now there’s no evaluation. What are these
movies about? They give you some narrative line, but what about the
cinematography? What about the acting?
Diane Thodos: It’s
just the sheer power of
money speaking for itself. The Rijk’s museum exhibit of Damien Hirst’s
“Skull” is also an attempt to destroy the authentic art that was
already there in the museum.
DK: Yes, he said
explicitly that he has “no integrity” – that’s a direct quote.
DT: So he’s aware
of it.
DK: Well it is the
“hot” thing to say. He is
saying, “See I have no integrity, I’m the new bandit, I’m the new
hotshot gangster.”
DT: He wants to be
the “bad boy.”
DK: He’s saying “I’m
the bad boy and the godfather”
and you know there’s always a role for this in a popular culture. Have
you ever seen him? He looks like a sly gopher or something.
DT: I have never
really taken much of any interest in him.
DK: The sociology of
art is more important right now.
DT: Arnold Hauser’s
book “The Sociology of Art?” [1974]
DK: What I mean is the
sociology of the
contemporary situation is in some ways more interesting than the art.
Don’t kid yourself. It’s about what is the social role of art and how
people are invested in art. This is why opening parties are such big
events. Art is an occasion for socializing.
DT: Networking,
climbing ladders…
DK: And art openings
have an atmosphere a little
different than if we met in a boardroom or a restaurant where we would
eat, chat, or make our deal. It’s interesting that art is a status
item; it’s all about what is your status?
DT: Everything is
getting extremely distended
and abstracted from any meaningfulness in terms of what is sold and
what the art actually is.
DK: It’s getting
abstracted from experiential
meaning and from aesthetic meaning. It’s even getting separated from
any kind of serious social commentative purpose. Who cares what you are
transgressing? Nobody cares. Art has lost its way.
DT: Yes, it’s a
completely lost situation. I
recall reading an essay by Robert Hughes about Willem de Kooning. He
made the observation that his kind of expressionism was rare in
American art. Why is this so? It is rare in terms of established
practice within the American art tradition. In other words de Kooning
was pretty unusual. Compared to Pollock, de Kooning brought his work
closer to what the German Expressionist tradition was about.
DK: I think he is more
important than Pollock.
DT: Yes he is more
important, I agree.
DK: Well he was
European. Gorky was European. Hans
Hoffman was European: it goes back to Europe. If you look at the
history of 20th century art the largest amount of art produced, the
most continuous stream of art – for better or worse – was
Expressionism, whether it was figurative expressionism or Abstract
Expressionism. Now in America the art may have to do with some sense of
Puritanism – a sense of shame about “letting it all hang out” unless of
course you got a TV camera in front of you.
DT: It’s an
anti-figural attitude unless it’s about spectacle?
DK: Unless it’s about
spectacle. Also I think it’s
very hard to sustain genuine Expressionism. It’s really a kind of
intuitive painting. You have to be with it. When you look at a Kirchner
painting full of dashed lines and marks you got to be totally focused,
totally absorbed. Saul Bellow once said we live in a distraction
society. That’s why it’s hard to sustain focus. There is also a strong
figurative tradition in American art.
DT: Artists like
Edward Hopper, Thomas Eakins, Winslow Homer…
DK: Let me put it this
way. Warhol is another
social realist in a certain sense – a social realist who is dealing
with things like Hollywood stars, celebrity, whatever. That is a strong
American tradition. Forget about any stylistic considerations – it’s
about observing the society. Warhol said, and I think he’s right, that
his best works were about death. A lot of them deal with social
violence. That’s social observation: social realism. In a certain sense
he’s a kind of Hollywood and New York regionalist. So there is a lot of
art like this and that’s an art that comes from the outside. Some of it
gets inside but it starts from the outside. I think there is actually a
need now for what I call a new objective art. It starts from the
outside and pays attention to observation. I think this is happening,
but this is more of an American tradition than Expressionism, which
comes from the inside out.
DT: When
internalized feelings coming out.
DK: It is the
externalization of the internal
through this mode. When you look at the paintings of Kirchner you can
sort of follow the lines. But if you look at de Kooning, particularly
some of those black and white pieces from 1948 – 49 it gets very hard
to follow what’s going on. You have to sort have to of immerse yourself
in the image and do this unconscious scanning. It’s a difficult thing.
It’s much easier to stay with an object – be it a landscape or a movie
poster.
DT: Knowable human
content is easier to grasp
that the sort of attenuation of abstraction into, if you will, more and
more of a conceptual mode?
DK: Yes I think so. The
problem with the conceptual
mode is that it signals a certain end of observation – of looking at
the object out there –and then it gets filtered through the media and
gets lost. But then there are people like Philip Pearlstein: artists
still looking at the human body.
DT: There are also
R. B. Kitaj, Jim Valerio, and Vincent Desiderio…
DK: There are people
like that – people who get a
balance of inside and outside. That’s the heart of it. They are looking
at whole objects, not fragments; some resonance comes through. I think
the conceptual mode has kind of run away with itself. If you look
around you can see other things but certainly the conceptual mode seems
to be market dominated or given pride of place.
DT: Well, what I
meant was there is a leap of
concept that occurs between, let’s say de Kooning’s “Women” paintings
of the early 1950’s and the more abstracted landscapes he did in the
1970’s: there’s a subtle shift of concept.
DK: De Kooning had
something else: he had a hand, he had touch, and he had skill.
DT: He had
draughtsmanship, he loved Soutine,
and you could see the lushness of the color. He liked Matisse. He was
integrating a lot of traditions plus the influence of Arshile Gorky.
Gorky really turned him into a poet of paint. Without Gorky he couldn’t
have done the transition. Gorky brought this great soul to his art that
you don’t see in de Kooning’s work from the time before he met him.
DK: De Kooning was a
very accomplished abstract artist. That’s all gone now. Today you don’t
need skill in the arts.
DT: But on the
other hand I think that you do –
if you are going to engage that inwardness you need to have the
linguistic means of transposing it outwardly. I think of the great
discovery of automatism that comes from Surrealism. On this point I
don’t think it is well known that a former teacher of mine – Stanley
William Hayter – had a big impact on the American Abstract
Expressionists. Originally he had set up his print shop Studio 17 in
Paris where a lot of the avant-garde artists there came to print. He
fled France because of the invading German army during World War II. He
had been producing pamphlets in his print shop on how to blow up German
tanks.
DK: Really, I did not
know that.
DT: He was
extremely anti-Nazi and Hitler had
placed a bounty on his head. Hayter was a pretty tough individual. When
he fled France he experienced a month long trip across the Atlantic on
a boat that was dodging submarines. He finally arrived in New York City
around 1940 where he set up his Studio 17 print shop anew. This was an
important meeting place where all the expatriated European artists
would come to do art and interact. Printmaking is fortunately an art of
praxis – artists have to come together to use the same press and
equipment. Technical necessities bring printmakers together; with that
comes an experimental chemistry of exchange. The American Abstract
Expressionists knew all these famous artists like Andre Masson and Max
Ernst who came to do work at Studio 17: the artists they had read about
were suddenly here in the USA. Many came to Studio 17 to have contact
with members of the European avant-garde who they revered. From what I
understand Hayter had artists do preliminary exercises on test printing
plates: exercises in automatism. This was the exercise he had me do in
1984 when he was my teacher and it was the same one that Jackson
Pollock had done in 1944 – 45. It is very interesting to see the
transformation of Pollock’s work compared to what he had done
previously. He was painting abstract work based on American Indian
symbols and iconography; these had some movement but were not
completely open and gestural. After he did the experimental plates with
Hayter the subconscious gestural element started coming out and began
his launch into the drip paintings.
DK: How long did you
work with Hayter?
DT: For about 4
months in the fall of 1984 in
Paris. This experience at Studio 17 transformed me completely because
the discovery of automatism – the subconscious and spontaneous flow of
gestural line – made me understand the mystery and meaning of the
abstract plane in a completely new way than had previously existed. It
liberated a potential that I could not have perceived before. This same
abstraction was a mystery I had seen in de Kooning’s work that I could
not have solved until I had done this exercise. de Kooning had worked
in Studio 17 too. After Pollock practiced automatism and it entered his
painting the idea caught fire with de Kooning. Even then de Kooning
transferred these ideas to his friend Franz Klein. So there was this
ascendancy that was happening.
DK: Through Hayter.
DT: Through the
exercise of automatism.
Hayter’s work in automatism actually had a fairly dry biomorphic
quality to it, but the important thing was that he created an
environment of serious and open experimentation which allowed the
transmission of some important Surrealist ideas. The use of automatism
to delve into abstraction and the subconscious was essential to
Abstract Expressionism.
DK: It sounds like it
was a very good experience. How did you get access?
DT: It was by
chance really. I had a
printmaking teacher at Carnegie Mellon University named Joanne Maier
and I told her I was going to study at the Alliance Francais in Paris
for a semester. She noticed I was a complete fanatic about printmaking
– I couldn’t keep the ink off my hands. She knew Studio 17 in Paris and
wrote me a letter of introduction to Bill Hayter. I believe anyone
could study there as long as you were a serious printmaker and you
followed his instruction making the experimental test plate. At the
time Hayter did not have a high profile status the way de Kooning and
Pollock did.
DK: Yet his name has
always been there.
DT: It has always
been there and Studio 17 is
important as a junction of exchange between Europe and the US. Much
teaching about printmaking was brought to this country and spread by
his students, like Mauricio Lasansky. Many printmaking departments were
created in art schools because of Bill Hayter’s influence. It was a
wonderful gift to this country and what I learned was a wonderful gift
to me. If I hadn’t tripped upon the circumstance of studying with
Hayter I don’t think I could understand art the way I do today.
DK: That’s interesting.
That‘s quite a compliment.
DT: I am also
grateful to have had you as my
teacher for five years. You were the person at the right time and the
right place to answer critical questions I had about the art world and
to give me the perceptual distance I needed from what was happening in
the New York art world. I needed to unravel the history even as it was
happening around me. Your teaching gave me the perception and tools I
needed as a way out of the puzzlement I was feeling about the art
world. I was very confused about how it operated – what was its modus
operandi. By that time in the late 1980’s anti-art already had a very
strong hold within the art world.
DK: Right, the
anti-aesthetic.
DT: By that time it
was very strongly
entrenched. I needed someone who could give me some real answers. I
recall you had once criticized certain art of the 1980’s as being the
equivalent of junk bonds. In today’s art world do you see the work of
Jeff Koons and those like him being similar to toxic assets – both
financially and spiritually – to use a current terminology?
DK: Yes – a simple yes.
They represent the
spiritual bankruptcy of art. Art is no longer spiritual: I use the
German word Giest. They are anti-Giest. The word “corrupt” is too
generous. They don’t know what it would be to not be corrupt. The word
corruption does not figure in their way of thinking.
DT: It is more
supremely nihilistic?
DK: I would say it is
ultimately nihilistic. I
think it is not only anti-art – it is anti-life. Let’s just think for a
moment of what Koons did with Chicholina – I’m referring to his
sculptures of her. She was his Italian wife, also once a member of the
Italian Parliament, and some say a prostitute or call girl or model as
well as a celebrity of sorts. They’re now divorced. The sculptures were
on view at the Sonnabend Gallery. In one work she looks like a
glamorized not to say whorish belle femme sans merci–the eternal
feminine downgraded/degraded to a media slut — anti-life indeed.
DT: Pornographic
stuff.
DK: Yes, but
pornography does not have to do with the spectator, it has to do with
Eros.
DT: The
objectification of the human body?
DK: Exactly.
DT: I remember very
clearly the day in class you described the difference between the
erotic and the pornographic.
DK: There has been a
lot written about this by Robert J. Stoller. [Perversion: The Erotic
Form of Hatred 1975]
DT: And also about
how the Christian religion downgraded the body and split the body from
the spirit, demonizing Eros.
DK: Yes, absolutely.
DT: This
distinction struck me because I have
something of a Greek ancestral background, not that the modern Greeks
are just like the ancient, but I had some exposure to the pre-
Christian Greek art of antiquity. I had a different perception growing
up. That didn’t always have to do with the current society, which is
shaped by different forces.
DK: Yes, I think so.
It’s interesting to me that
contemporary artists appeal to very rich people. It’s very important to
have a high price. There is a kind of saying in the art market – you
may have heard it– that if you put a work out there with a low price on
it people will say it can’t be worth very much.
DT: Right.
DK: They perceive low
quality because the price is
low. I remember a dealer who once said that people were questioning him
about piece of art because it was for $200,000.
DT: As if to say
“The price is too low – what’s the matter with the art?”
DK: Yes – It is as
though if it were priced for $300,000 they would consider it. They look
at art with the dollar sign.
DT: Very bizarre.
It didn’t used to be that way 50 years ago.
DK: You know this piece
I wrote called Art Values or Money Values [artnet.com March
6, 2007].
DT: Yes. It’s one
of my favorite essays.
DK: That’s what it is
all about. You remember there
was this dealer who started an operation in Miami with artists whose
prices were $2000 or $5000 a work? Now they have changed their prices
to $10,000 to $20,000 a work and somehow that is supposed to give it
value. You know $10,000 is a lot of buckaroos, at least to some people.
DT: There are
also covert relationships to fix the art market between dealers and
collectors.
DK: There have been
some cases which you may know
about that have been printed in the newspapers. A work sold at auction
for a certain amount – then it turned out there was some sort of
kickback. It was not really the stated price but less. The gallery was
partly financing the auction bid and this act of manipulation was
reported in the news. There was a wonderful piece in the Financial
Times,
which covers the art market very extensively because art is big
business. They had a piece on one of the last auctions around a year
ago about an Ellsworth Kelly. They showed a picture of the art and
said, “Is this blob work worth one and a half million dollars?”
DT: Brilliant.
DK: They talked about
how there was uncertainty
that was entering the art auctions. What’s the relationship between
this blob and one and a half million dollars?
December 16th, 2009 at 9:00 pm
For a strong art critic (Kuspit) and a great theologian (Ellul) to discount the good and focus on the bad (Koons, reality TV, technique–in Ellul’s specialized definition) is an understandable human condition.
Yet, it is this very human condition that demands privacy, uniqueness, and meaning, as well as gossip, security, and play. Fret not about the fate of art and life. Some just get ignored and trampled, as has happened forever and will happen always. The “powers that be” can only handle so much, and depend on status and opinion rather than personal judgment of worth. No news here. One just works hard and true, and knows that chance plays a huge role.
December 17th, 2009 at 2:07 am
Fabulous, once again. “Working things through,” the displacement of interest away from art and artist, “instrumentalism” or the fetish of new tools as a repression of any real thought — all amazingly important insights.
December 17th, 2009 at 9:45 am
I am in agreement with Mr. Stanley, ” One just works hard and true and knows that chance plays a huge role.” Here is the “but”, without throwing the dice, writing about and discourse, there would be nothing to chance with. I am sure Mr. Koons did not sit in his work space and hoped and waited to be discovered. in my opinion, he spends much of his time on the schmoozing, instead of the artwork.
December 18th, 2009 at 5:25 pm
Once again, thanks to Ms. Thodos for an insightful interview. I am struck with Mr. Kuspit’s idea of emotion not being easily streamlined, and technology (video art, etc) becoming a spectacle. And the idea of exhibitionism in reality TV.
And perhaps over the last 3 decades art has become less introspective and more exhibitionist-I’m thinking here of performance pieces that are variously political and/or gender based. But if art reflects the culture or its time, then hasn’t it done a pretty good job? We’ve come out of an incredibly selfish and greedy period.
I wonder what transformative art will ensue from a more compassionate and less ego driven society. What I do see coming from most art schools or mid career artists (45 now seems to be mid-career) in NY galleries is a preponderance of ironic and cold work, even in portrait work that feels empty and doesn’t ‘move’ me in any way.
To be obsessed with light, or emotion or even color, say the way Hopper once was – is scorned. The fact that almost every online ‘art’ site shows the exact same trends is also disheartening.
I maintain hope though. In the same way that Slow Food has infiltrated the psyches (and stomachs) of the country, maybe slow art- work that is thoughtful and passionate and emotional- will begin to take back the spotlight. Something’s gotta give and people are starving.
December 24th, 2009 at 4:14 pm
I really enjoyed this last conversation between DK and DT.
One point really hits rather powerfully when DK suggests that it would be far more compelling to observe who is doing the collecting rather than the creating. Because, as it now stands, the collecting is driving the creating and not the other way around. This, to me is the great truth of our contempoary scene, and also a good reason not to trust it.
December 27th, 2009 at 1:33 pm
@ Victoria Webb
Excellent analysis, both of art’s reflection of current culture and a deep, current desire for the once-banned “retinal” and deeply personal.
January 3rd, 2010 at 1:24 pm
[...] Graciously permitted to republish from Neoteric Art. [...]
January 8th, 2010 at 3:42 pm
I’m so pleased I stumbled upon this interview. When trying to navigate the formal art world I feel like I must have left home without any pants, like I’m mad. I’ve been advised by my colleges and teachers to hide my pessimism and contempt, I’ve been instructed to hold my tongue in regards to emotional factors and rather discuss technique.
Though I know my advisers have a deep caring for my career and well-being they glaze over the burden that repacking emotional disclosure as “esoteric intellectualism” has on my soul. I fear my heart may explode. I’ve seen too many brilliant colleges fall by the wayside for their emotionally charged content.
I hope for everyone’s sake that there is a resurgence in introspection, and an acceptance of emotion outside the controlled and spiteful context of fabricated “drama.” Thank you Diane and Donald for a breath of sanity and a renewed sense of hopefulness.