Monday, May 30, 2005

Accidental Iconoclasm

In the spring of 2004 a fire burned down a warehouse in East London that happened to contain many well-known works of Britart. Interestingly, the reaction of most of the public was not grief and sympathy for the artists and owners of the work that was lost, but rather something varying between a guffaw of gloating shadenfreude and a dismissive shrug of contempt.

Some examples on blogspot:
http://museumofmadness.blogspot.com/2004/05/god-hates-bad-art.html
http://thersiteswrites.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-dont-know-much-about-art-but-i-know.html
http://fence.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_fence_archive.html
http://stevenallen.blogspot.com/2004/06/warehouse-fire-may-be-art-son.html

Tracey Emin was not amused:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/kent/3761851.stm

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Features of Modernism—Missed One

On top of the features of modernism that I listed in my earlier post, I realize there's another that I omitted to mention. I've made up a new word for it, too: inventionism.

I noted in the previous post, almost as an aside, that the individual style is often characterised by a novel process. That comment deserves to be more than an aside, as inventionism is a key features of modernism, and it is to a degree independent of individualism. Devising a new method, and then "exploring the possibilities" of that method in a potentially career-long series of works is fundamental to what modernist artists do.

The inventions are of the sort that might be covered by patents, not by copyright -- i.e., it is the process, not the expression that matters. For instance, Jackson Pollock had an effective patent on painting by his drip method, while Rachel Whiteread has the patent on casting the spaces under or within furniture. This is quite different from what obtained before modernism. If a contemporary successfully imitated da Vinci's technique of sfumato, or Rubens' brush drawing, it would be counted a considerable accomplishment, whereas mimicking Pollock's technique would be practically taboo, and render one's work unworthy of serious critical consideration.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

The Features of Modernism

After reflection on a variety of art (and would-be art), I am led to the conclusion that modernism can be summed up as art that displays most or all of the following characteristics:

1. Rejectionism: Rejection of whatever values are associated with the forms of art that were dominant before modernism started, and signalling that rejection in the work (e.g., uglifying, to signal rejection of the ideal of beauty).

2. Primitivism: Copying or being inspired by what used to be known as primitive art (especially what is nowadays called tribal art, but also folk art, medieval art, children's art, and "outsider" art), including mimicking the technical standards of that art.

3. Individualism: Giving great importance to the development of a signature style that seeks to be instantly recognizable as belonging to the artist who made the work, generally with the idea that the signature style conveys something important about the artist, whose individuality is thereby expressed. Often, the style is the product of a novel procedure.

4. Formalism: Placing emphasis on the form or mode of presentation rather than content, so that it becomes more important that, for instance, a work is made from an unusual plastic material, than that it depicts Diana at her bath.

5. Cynicism: Avoiding cheery, optimistic sentiments and uplifting sentiments in favour of presenting moods of anger, fear, satire, despair, or cold detachment.

All works in the modernist tradition, I think, exhibit at least three of these traits, and nearly all exhibits at least four, and that goes for work that is usually discussed under the headings "post-modern", "conceptualist", or "contemporary", and thus not typically counted as modernist, just as much as works of cubism and expressionism. Conversely, it would be rare for something that did not count as modernist, conceptualist or "contemporary" to show three of the above traits.

I think, on the basis that the works have the above traits in common, that the distinction between "modernist" and "contemporary" is a distinction without a difference, and that all those works belong under the same heading. Everything on display in a typical "contemporary art" institution will have the above traits, as will works that are counted as examples of "early modernism" or "high modernism". There's also a mindset shared between the earliest modernist and the latest contemporary-, er, -ist.

The thinking is always rejectionist, which is to say, it always insists on emphatically separating itself from a rival set of values that is allegedly (by contrast with itself) mainstream, "bourgeois", conservative, conventional and, of course, moribund. It is modernist in that it insists on its newness. It claims to have made an important break with the past through innovation. It is avant-gardist in that it insists that it is at the forefront of some metaphorical marching army that is going somewhere. Where it is going, and why it is going there, is never clear. Innovation is the highest value of this kind of art. Nothing can be better than to be radically innovative, and nothing worse than to fail to innovate (and thus be "derivative"). There doesn't have to be any reason for the innovation. Innovation is an end in itself.

That's modernism, as I see it, and it's very different from anything else called art. In particular, no other art ever placed such great emphasis on innovation. In general, by contrast with modernism, innovation has only been valued when it served some other purpose (e.g., a technical innovation that enhances realism or beauty) and following tradition was often valued much more highly.

I realise that it is unusual to insist that "modernism", "contemporary art" and "conceptualism" are really all the same movement, and that the usual distinction between them is not real, but that's where my reflections have led me, so that's where I go. I don't mind if you call me a contrarian. It woudn't be the first time.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Shark Sold Abroad, a Loss to the Nation?

The most famous example of Britart, Damien Hirst's pickled shark, a.k.a., "The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living", is to be sold to an American collector for a just under £7m, which represents a healthy profit for Mr. Saatchi, according to reports. It is expected that the work will be lent to the New York MoMA, presumably thereby offsetting the owner's expense by earning a tax deduction for "charity", while protecting the value of the investment by ensuring it stays in the public eye.

Someone on the radio described this event as a "great loss to the nation", but that doesn't make sense. Mr. Hirst is still alive and well and hard at work, and not even old yet, so there's plenty of opportunity for him to make equally good and better work in the future to replace the "loss"... isn't there?

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Dereliction of Beauty

Much modern Western art is unbeautiful, often self-consciously so. Are there sound reasons for neglecting the previously popular - indeed, near universal - ambition of making every work as beautiful as it possibly could be made?

Andy Goldsworthy

On Front Row today, I heard Andy Goldsworthy today described as "the Jack Vettriano of conceptualism", which I thought was rather good. Goldsworthy is a publishing phenomenon, with glossy books of photographs of his giant snowballs and arrangements of twigs and stones selling in large numbers, edition after edition, yet London's art establishment appears to ignore him just about completely. The Tate has none of his work. Explanations offered by the discussants included that to see most of Goldsworthy's work, one has to go out into the countryside, that his work concerns the pastoral, which is of scant interest to our modern, very metropolitan, art establishment, and that his work is pretty, or even beautiful, much unlike the austere product of Richard Long, who is covered in official praise and honour. All very plausible.

The narrow metropolitanism of our art establishment is certainly a failing, but the rejection of beauty is more fundamental, and needs to be explained.