Now I remember visiting the Winnipeg Art Gallery, and you walk into this foyer type place, you’re facing a stair case which leads to the main exhibits, and on the facing wall there was this frame with nothing in it. And we said they must have taken the picture out for some reason, but of course there was a picture there, it was just all white was all. So here is a white canvass, I guess it had white paint on it, and it was art. Ok it was art.
And last week I saw something similar, a white picture. This one was called (Steps) December, and it was by Charles Gagnon. And then there are the usual abstracts, stripes and splotches, and couple of works that look like stuff my kids bring home from school. Literally. They deliberately look like kids’ drawings.
This occurs to me because I was recently at the Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal (which is the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts) and I got to see Monet, Cezanne, Rodin, Picasso. Then they have the contemporary Art Exhibit, which is mild next to what’s at the Musuem of Contemporary Art.
So people look at that stuff, and the usual refrain goes, anyone could have done that, why is it art. And the usual answer is anyone didn’t do it, that guy did, and he’s an artist, so it’s art.
So what that means is this. If I break a dish, then arrange the pieces on a canvas randomly, and call it “Porcelain Rapture” or something, nobody will pay attention, and it’s not worth anything. But once I’ve done something, anything, that people recognize as “art,” and say I’ve got a government grant (that helps), and now my name is known in the right circles, and I break a dish, then arrange
the pieces on a canvas randomly, and call it “Porcelain Rapture” or something, now it’s a work of art, and people pay attention, and pundits will write about it, and say that it bespeaks the reality of bourgeois disillusionment with fragmented consumption, or something like that.
And people have a lot of trouble with this. I don’t. I don’t have trouble with this. I don’t think that art is about pictures hanging on a wall, not anymore. Nor is about beauty, or even creativity per se. Art isn’t just about what you create. It’s about who you are when you create it, it’s about who you know, it’s about who knows you, it’s about your place in the artistic community, or lack thereof. Art is a process, a vision of reality, a version of reality, it’s very serious, and it’s completely and totally funny.
I guess it’s a metaphor. It has to be a metaphor, or what’s the point right?
The point is that a pile of stuff sitting on a table could be a pile of stuff sitting on a table, or it could be a great work of art (or at least a work of art). Nothing we do, nothing we have, nothing we create, nothing we say, none of it exists in a vacuum. It all comes down to context, and the context is what gives it, not just meaning, but reality. And that’s how it is with everything. Had Sargent Pepper been made last week it wouldn’t be a great album. A guy can break the record for the 100 yard dash 5000 times in his backyard, but if he doesn’t do it at the Olympics it isn’t squat. And if Joe Not-an-artist paints a white canvass white then so what. But when Joe Artist does it…
And last week I saw something similar, a white picture. This one was called (Steps) December, and it was by Charles Gagnon. And then there are the usual abstracts, stripes and splotches, and couple of works that look like stuff my kids bring home from school. Literally. They deliberately look like kids’ drawings.
This occurs to me because I was recently at the Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal (which is the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts) and I got to see Monet, Cezanne, Rodin, Picasso. Then they have the contemporary Art Exhibit, which is mild next to what’s at the Musuem of Contemporary Art.
So people look at that stuff, and the usual refrain goes, anyone could have done that, why is it art. And the usual answer is anyone didn’t do it, that guy did, and he’s an artist, so it’s art.
So what that means is this. If I break a dish, then arrange the pieces on a canvas randomly, and call it “Porcelain Rapture” or something, nobody will pay attention, and it’s not worth anything. But once I’ve done something, anything, that people recognize as “art,” and say I’ve got a government grant (that helps), and now my name is known in the right circles, and I break a dish, then arrange
the pieces on a canvas randomly, and call it “Porcelain Rapture” or something, now it’s a work of art, and people pay attention, and pundits will write about it, and say that it bespeaks the reality of bourgeois disillusionment with fragmented consumption, or something like that.And people have a lot of trouble with this. I don’t. I don’t have trouble with this. I don’t think that art is about pictures hanging on a wall, not anymore. Nor is about beauty, or even creativity per se. Art isn’t just about what you create. It’s about who you are when you create it, it’s about who you know, it’s about who knows you, it’s about your place in the artistic community, or lack thereof. Art is a process, a vision of reality, a version of reality, it’s very serious, and it’s completely and totally funny.
I guess it’s a metaphor. It has to be a metaphor, or what’s the point right?
The point is that a pile of stuff sitting on a table could be a pile of stuff sitting on a table, or it could be a great work of art (or at least a work of art). Nothing we do, nothing we have, nothing we create, nothing we say, none of it exists in a vacuum. It all comes down to context, and the context is what gives it, not just meaning, but reality. And that’s how it is with everything. Had Sargent Pepper been made last week it wouldn’t be a great album. A guy can break the record for the 100 yard dash 5000 times in his backyard, but if he doesn’t do it at the Olympics it isn’t squat. And if Joe Not-an-artist paints a white canvass white then so what. But when Joe Artist does it…
1 comment:
I spent an afternoon in one of the art galleries in DC last summer. It was truly an awesome experience - knowing all those works of art were touched at one time by masters of the ages... we just wandered around that place for hours... in total awe - it was so relaxing, the company was engaging and I was happy.
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