Art & Taste

Salvador Dali

“Metamorphosis of Narcissus,” 1937

Even though you are looking at canonical art, it doesn’t mean you need to like it.  Like food, literature, music, fashion—we all develop our own tastes.  The thing to remember is that you should try to understand why certain work becomes iconic, and then you can hate it.  For instance, I am not a fan of surrealism, but I understand its importance in the story of art and how it emerges when theorists like Freud (remember his Interpetation of Dreams) and Jung gain wider acceptance.  It connects to the artist’s psyche but also to developments in psychology that were occuring.  It also presents a host of contrasts and uneasy juxtapositions, just like when you had that dream you were in bed with Brad Pitt and your high school gym teacher enters, whistle around her neck, and carrying a hamster….What’s that about?  Only you and your therapist can sort that one out, but understanding the role of the unconscious makes it interesting because you can contextualize the art within a broader landscape of developments in science and philosophy.  

Now let’s think about abstraction—a very broad topic.  You may dislike anything you can’t decipher, but maybe that was the artist’s point—that she/he wanted to disassociate the art from anything readable, or maybe the artist did it because she was expressing a feeling, or a sensation that is abstract to begin with.  Then again, she/he could be representing another aspect of the unseen, music, as color (synesthesia) as did Kandinsky.  Synesthesia is one sense, hearing, triggering another, sight, which presents sound as color.  

Wassily Kandinsky

Composition VII, 1913

Oil on canvas

Then think about it on another level, it could be about form itself:  the lines, colors and shapes,  as in Mondrian, which dis-connected art from literature, music, religion—which reflect particular cultures, and become about creating a painting in which no viewer had an advantage.  It becomes universal, and to some, dangerously utopian in its leveling of all those who experience it.  Once you recognize what could be going on, you see the complexity of the work, regardless if you think your child could’ve painted it.  These artists disassociated art from any sense of figuration or narration, which can leave some who view it rather lost when searching for understanding, but remember this was what they wanted, something more related to color than to events.

Piet Mondrian

Composition III,  1929

Art is an action.  The artist got an idea and thought about how she/he would present that, choosing the medium, size, etc.  This sometimes means that you get some pretty strange stuff.  I like  “Merda d’Artista” (1961) or “Artist’s Shit.”  Now you ask yourself, “Is that art?” and “If so, why would anyone can his shit?”  Well, look at the top, there’s a signature, so it is associated with a particular producer, in this case Piero Manzoni. Why would Manzoni do this?  Well, it is deeply personal and connected to him alone. He is selling his excrement as artwork because, with his signature, it has value:  it is a commodity.  It has value because he signed it, but its ridiculous and that’s the point.  He’s commenting about the commodification of art, about assigning value to the creative product, to the obsession with the artist, his identity, his bodily functions.  It’s also makes me think of the Italian Renaissance, and how the biographer, Giorgio Vasari wrote about the lives of the famous artists of the time and from this established the trope of the genius, born to create.  Manzoni pokes fun at artistic output, how it is superior simply because it came from a particular human being of celebrity status.  I also think about those relics in churches, those grim body parts are on display, so parishoners can worship them.  Don’t we worship artists?  This work is smart.  And think about it.  If you open the can to verify its contents, it automatically loses value.  I love art that makes you laugh, and there’s not even one dog sitting around a poker table!

.           Piero Manzoni

                                                                                        “Merda d”Artista,” 1961

                                                                                        Edition of 90

              

So, art may not present itself as something we recognize as beautiful or sublime, but we need to remember that’s the point.  The artist is challenging our long-held notions of what constitutes art, just as Marcel Duchamp submitted a urinal, signed by “R. Mutt,” to the Society for Independent Artists in 1917, which was met with shock and awe and ultimately rejected.  How could anyone think this was art?  Well, it  was not crafted by the artist—he just applied a signature from an artist that was fictional—but the signature and his selection of the object make it an artistic act.   He was poking fun at the whole aura of the original and how we assign value.  These artists make us consider the ones who decide what is art —museums, galleries, curators. . . 

 

R. Mutt (M. Duchamp)

“Fountain,” 1917

The artist saw his work as art, but some contemporaries of Duchamp didn’t.  His work was ground-breaking and ushered in Conceptual art that dealt with ideas rather than some evocation of a narrative, or feeling. These are not objects of contemplation the way a Da Vinci is.  They were not made by the artist—they are factory made—but the artist applies a signature and the whole dynamic changes because it announces it as a work of art, and hence, of value.  In fact, the “Merda d’Artista”, which is from an edition of 90, sold for $281,722  at Christie’s in London in 2015.  Manzoni, who died in 1963, would laugh.  

The point is, don’t expect to get lost in the artwork because that isn’t what the artist wanted.  The artist wants you to think, to be intellectually engaged, throwing it back on us, acknowledging our existence as necessary component in the experience of art.  We can thank Duchamp (and others not mentioned here) for helping move art in this direction, an art that asks questions rather than supplying all the answers.  That’s great.  We all need to think more critically about what we see and what it means, rather than expecting that all the answers are contained within the work.  We help supply the answers, but don’t expect to completely resolve the issues the artist raises because iconic art nags us to keep searching for new perspectives, a process that is dynamic, and open-ended. 

Chaim Soutine at the Jewish Museum

I'm writing to recommend the exhibition, "Chaim Soutine:  Flesh," at the Jewish Museum.  The subject matter, flesh from dead fish, birds, oxen, rabbits, you name it, it not something that makes you want to rush out the door, but do.  You'd be surprised how seduced you become by the richness of the colors and paint handling that make these works rather beautiful.  Perhaps that's the point---the beauty in death and decomposition.  

Not only do his expressionistic colors make the work vivid, but the richly applied paint, and fluid edges enliven the subjects, as apparently did the artist when he applied fresh blood to carcasses before painting them.  These are sumptuous, the way Dutch Baroque painters handled still-life, making them just that, still alive with realism to the point that you want to reach out and grab an orange.  They were also evocative of economic abundance that came with their expanded trade routes.  Soutine painted these images during a less prosperous inter-war period that make these images connect to those of human death and suffering.  His own experience as a Russian Jew (born in present day, Belarus) fleeing the Pograms and later the Nazis, also informs the work.  To me, these also evoke the sense of anonymous suffering, particularly the meat carcasses, because these animals are merely food sources and lack individual identity; however, the artist's selection of them as subjects particularizes them and elevates them.  


The artist work reflects his knowledge of art history (he spent years in Paris), and one can recognize the impact of artists such as Rembrandt, Cardin. . . whom he uses for inspiration and sometimes out and out appropriation, but his work also reveals the impact of modernism with the compressed and flattened space that pushes the flesh out towards the viewer and its use of vivid colors favored by the expressionists.  His life in Paris, where he received additional training at the  École des Beaux-Arts would have introduced the idea of looking to the masters for inspiration, as would his exposure to French Modernism and museums.  

I was fortunate enough to see the exhibition of his portraits of cooks, waiters and bellboys at the Courtauld Institute in London this past winter, and it once again reveals his focus on the unseen, not uncooked flesh, but members of the service industry that often escape notice.  Like the images of flesh, the figures are centrally positioned and set against flat backdrops that isolate them and project them into our space.  Seen today, they have a special resonance because these unskilled and underpaid jobs are often occupied by foreigners, and likely the same was true between the world wars when refugees were re-settling in cities.

So, I urge you to catch this show before it closes.  It is small, manageable show that resonates with our contemporary world and, once again, points to the importance of art in calling our attention to the unseen.

I JUST DON"T GET IT

Lawrence Weiner

An Accumulation of Information from Here to There, 1969

Let me disabuse you of the notion that art is elitist because nothing could be further from the truth.  Yes, there are periods, like Conceptualism that can be challenging to the uninitiated, especially if you are looking at text-based works with banal or repetitive language that look suspiciously like an assignment from Mrs. Ward’s typing I class, but in time, you will understand and even appreciate it, or not.  It's just not the kind of contemplative piece you have come to expect, the kind that allows you to drift into the image, but it is still art.  You just need to  build your cultural literacy, so you can understand how the story of art evolved.  Did you start reading with Ulysses?   Start with digestible pieces and build so you can establish some foundation, which will eventually lead to drawing connections to the unfamiliar.   

But how do you begin? First, go to a museum because the work is organized  based on its art historical or its philiosophical connection, which can transcend periods.  Some have permanent collections that change from time to time as pieces are rotated out of storage, others have no permanent collection, hence no added expense of storage, and rotate shows that are linked by a period, location or philosophical connection.  I love shows that present a dialogue with past and present because it makes all the pieces relevant.  Sure, due to decreased public support for art museums, some charge sizable entrance fees, but they usually have free days or discounts for seniors, students, etc., so plan accordingly.  If you have a family, you need to include them, so they do not fall into the trap of only seeing art on vacation:  it needs to part of their regular diet.  If you find institutions you like, you can become a member and take advantage of all the activities that it offers.  This will encourage you to attend openings and make art viewing a habit.  Museums serve the public, and we need to support them with our attendance.

Once in the museum, take advantage of docent tours.  They are free, and you can have a knowledgeable guide, often an art history graduate student or curator, who will walk you through and explain the context and background of the work.  They are knowledgeable, know the collection and are accustomed to guiding people who may know very little about art.  You should also consider an audio guide, which may be available for free on your smartphone or available for rental. These are great when the museum is crowded and you can’t get close enough to read the explanation on the wall.   With big shows, you can find rooms with chairs and copies of the catalogues, so you can sit, read  and further digest a bit of what you are seeing, which is nice when you need to escape the crowds.  The point is there is a lot of information to help you  unpack what you are seeing.

I would also limit your visit.  Marathon trips can overwhelm you, especially when you are with your family.  I get museum fatigue if I exceed two hours, so you might want to go when there is a show of interest and see the rest another time.   Also, going with someone else is helpful because it is fun to bounce ideas off of one another as it heightens the experience.  Its a great conversation starter if you are on a date, with an uncommunicative teen or someone you want to know better.  Great art opens doors, encourages conversation with the work and also with those who experience it.  You just need to open them.

Another great way to see art is with auction house previews.  Although you may not realize it, they are all open to the public and require no fee, so pop into Christie’s when you are walking around midtown Manhattan.  The pieces are displayed for auction previews but are not presented with explanatory texts other than artist, title, date and medium, but there is always a catalogue there for view, which may have more information about the pieces for sale.  Don’t be intimidated: just cruise in, ask what is on preview and wander around.  You will see auction estimates and usually one piece that is the star of the sale and can fetch tens of millions of dollars, depending on what kind of auction preview it is.  That way, when you see an article about how a record was set, you can impress your friends by saying your saw it in person.  Often these works disappear from public view once purchaseed, so visiting a sale preview is the best way to see them up close.

Go to galleries.  They usually change shows once a month, and the openings offer a chance to view and meet the artist.  When there, sign up for the mailing list if you like the gallery, that way you will be updated on events.  Then, pick up the artist’s CV and essay about the show that is on the desk next to the sign up sheet, so you can grasp how the work is related.  There are also price lists, which is an interesting way to see how art is valued. Openings are usually on Thursday and Friday evenings, so you can easily stop off after work.  You may even get a glass of wine if you are lucky, which is why they become a draw for young professionals and a place to socialize.  Also, there are “must see” shows listed on the multitude of art websites ( www.artnet.com, www.artsy.com, www.artslant.com, or www.timeout.com) that publish lists of shows they recommend, so you might want to start there.

You can also consult on-line resources.  Museums, galleries and auction houses all have websites that become great resources for information.  If you are really engaged, save images of and information about work you like and save it in folders.  I’d also include an artist’s biography.  In time,  you’ll be able to identify period, artist, medium and even recognize an artist’s progression. I have discovered a number of artists doing this, and with time, you may discover you gravitate toward a particular artist, idea, style or historical period.  Whether you realize it or not, you’re actually curating.  Additionally, you can go to youtube.  I have found some really good videos of exhibitions I couldn’t see, interviews with artists, curators and theorists that cost nothing.  Soon with this exposure, you will discover that you are developing cultural literacy and becoming a much more aware and interesting person as art can touch us intellectually, sensorally and even emotionally.

And, of course, I would be remiss if I did not mention the explosion of art fairs.  You will discover there is a hierarchy among them, which accounts for the breadth of quality.  The larger ones, like the Art Basel franchise, has a more difficult vetting process, so you need to have a consistent and established brand or represent the new wave of artists to be included.  The fair draws international galleries, but the entrance fee is expensive.  That being said, you can see the commerce of art in action.

 I remember going to Art Basel in Switzerland (there are others in Miami and Hong Kong) and seeing amazing pieces that I had studied as a student.  It is eye-opening., but also fun to see prices who buys.  Generally, the sales are made prior to opening or on the opening night, known in the artworld as the vernissage.  You will soon realize that wannabes walking around decked in Chanel are not necessarily the ones that actually buy, so if you go, do not be intimidated with the old guy with a young wife whose collagen-pumped lips remind you of something you saw at Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade.  They may just be there to be seen and  probably know less than you do.  In fact, take the opportunity to test your new found knowledge by engaging with people staffing the booths.  If you see something that interests you, ask if they have a CV for the artist.  This will tell you where and with whom the artist studied and which collections (private and public) contant his work—these help determine value.  Already, those skills you honed at museums, auction houses and galleries openings are beginning to pay off.  Comment on something you recognize:  “The theatricality and lighting of the photograph reminds me of the Baroque….”  They will know you are not some neophyte, and the more questions and interesting comments you make will identify you as knowledgeable and also be perceived as a “live one.”

Another issue about fairs is because exhibitors are paying what amounts to your child’s college tuition to participate, some opt for what I like to call the bazaar approach, that is, a collection of the best pieces that are sure to sell.  Consequently, there is not always a curatorial eye toward the booths.  To find that, visit the special projects or areas where galleries feature solo artists, which focus on contemporary art and offer a more coherent presentation.  Yes, some buck the trend, but art fairs are ephemeral, so there is intense pressure to make back what they spent on shipping, staffing and renting the booth.  Always keep in mind that the work, like in a gallery or auction house, is for sale, so price is sometimes unrelated to quality or an evolved voice.  It is a business and relies on supply and demand.  Certain artists become hot stimulating a buying trend and driving up prices.  It doesn’t mean the others aren’t as good; they might just be less popular, which could mean they offer better value.

Smaller, satellite fairs abound around the larger ones.  Often, you can sign up for their mailing list and sometimes request VIP passes that will give you continual access for free.  The smaller fairs can feature younger galleries and emerging, unestablished, artists.  The quality is not always consistent, but prices will be lower and if you want to jump start your collection, you may find something.  Some of my favorite pieces came from satellite fairs, and I did not spend a lot of money.  Plus, know that you are helping these smaller gallerists keep the lights on for another month and  the artists in ramen.  Don’t be afraid to take a chance as it may not be a huge investment and those sales mean a whole lot more to artists struggling to make it.  Remember, those blue chip galleries at the larger fairs also had humble beginnings.

Lastly, aside from the public and private insitutions for learning about art, there is always the library.  You can find art books to borrow or just flip through.  My library sells donated books and I have found auction catalogues, exhibition catalogues, artists’ monographs, and books focused on particular periods, movements, etc.  I would recommend investing in a general art history text: it is like owning an encyclopedia and an excellent reference.  Though art books are expensive, I would go through the used bookstores attached to the library, ebay and amazon.  I seldom buy new books and have found some out of print books consulting these sources..  Also, museums sell old exhibition catalogues at big discounts and can also be a good place to find books on art that appeals to you.  

All these things—visitng museums, galleries, auction houses, art fairs, using the internet, and library offer a variety of ways to expose yourself to art.  And if you want to own something, but you are on a student’s budget or saving for college tuition, there are always exhibition posters, which provide excellent examples of quality art, postcards and art gallery announcements that are great to frame.  Furthermore, if you have young children, they can only benefit from looking at the Rembrandt magnet on your fridge.  I would rather be surrounded by reproductions of iconic art than forced to stare at some art on which you overspent on the recommendation of a decorator.  In the end, it all works to build your art literacy, which only enriches your life.

Who are you?

Who are you?

You just watched “Antiques Roadshow” and saw a man bring in a pen and ink drawing of an owl that has a signature starting with a big “p” on the bottom right.  He’s a golf pro with no knowledge of art but likes the piece so much he hung it on the powder room wall, just above the toilet, so he could enjoy it.  It was a gift from his aunt, and he likes it but was curious to know if it was worth anything.

“Well,” the expert says….. “This is actually a Picasso drawing from the sixties.”
“Picasso?”  The man’s eyes light up.
“Yes, he was prolific and though this is not from the most collectible period of his work, it still bears his signature.” The expert points to the “p” followed by a scribble.  “. . . And it is a Picasso, whose market is one of the most stable you;’ll find.”
The golfer, in a polo shirt and logo, eyes wide leans forward.
“In the current market, I’d value this anywhere from thirty five to fifty thousand dollars at auction.”
The golfer gasps.  “That’s a lot of Pings.”
“I’d say so,” replies the expert.

A viewer ejects himself from his recliner, like a medieval catapualt, and dashes into the living room.  “Marge, come in here.”
Marge, hands on hips and a look of ennui, shuffles into the living room.  “What is it?”
“Where’d you get this painting of the hands?” It is two manly hands reaching toward one another, one with an extended index.
“I dunno.  Think it belonged to that "queer" uncle of mine.  I found it in his attic when he died.”
“But it looks familiar. . . “  The man removes it from the wall. “I think this is worth something.”
So the next day the man consults a neighbor, a reitred literature professor, because she is the most worldly person he sort of knows.  When she sees it, smiles and tells him she'll just be a minute and returns with a thick red book, Janson’s History of Art, and opens to a picture of the Sistene chapel.  "It’s Michelangelo," she says.
“I knew it!” the man exclaims.
“Well, not quite,” the librarian counters.  “First, this is a fresco from the Italian Renaissance,” and this is on a stretched canvas . . .” She looks more closely “And looks like acrylic. . . I paint.”
“So its not a Michelangelo?”
“Highly doubtful.”
The man is crestfallen.
“It’s a pretty good attempt at hands though.  They aren’t easy to paint.”
“But its worth nothing.”
“Well, do you like it?”
“I guess.”
“Then that’s all that matters. . . Not everything is about exchange value.”

And so illustrates the difference between someone who views art as emerging from a particular historical time and place (and a possibly through socialist lens), the professor, and another who sees art as a commodity, something more valued for its monetary exchange rate than its content.  So, if you are reading this, it is because you have some interest in art, but is it a commercial or intellectual?  The answer to that will determine whether you want art as an investiment, like a 401K, or as something that engages you on some deeper level other than your wallet.  If you are someone looking to make the conscious decision to include art in your everyday life, to develop cultural literacy and even become a collector, you may learn something.  If you are someone who is already an art insider, I hope you find a fresh outlook.  My  point of view reflects someone who has spent a lot of time with art:  looking at it, reading about it and listening to knowledgeable professors share what they've learned.  I love it for what art makes me do---feel, both emotionally and physically, and think, something that continues to challenge the way I experience the world.