LACMA’s $25 Million Choo-Choo Train

The March 2009 edition of The Art Newspaper reported that the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), is funding the building of a monumental sculpture by postmodernist artist Jeff Koons - at a cost of $25 million. Titled Train, the "sculpture" consists of an actual 70-foot long steam locomotive hung from an immense 161-foot construction crane. If the project actually proceeds, it will become, in the words of The Art Newspaper - "the most expensive artwork ever commissioned by a museum." It should be restated once again that President Obama’s economic stimulus bill contains $50 million to service the needs of art institutions for the entire United States of America.

In my April 2007 article, Jeff Koons: The Schlock of the New, I detailed the collaboration between LACMA and Koons when it was merely at its formative stage. At the time, the Annenberg Foundation provided LACMA and Koons with funds for engineering studies concerning the feasibility of such an edifice. As it turns out, The Art Newspaper reported; "LACMA has already spent about $1.75 of $2 million pledged by trustee Wallis Annenberg for preliminary studies." In my '07 article I wrote:

"Those who attempt to find anything meaningful in Koons' productions should simply remember the following admonition from him, 'A viewer might at first see irony in my work... but I see none at all. Irony causes too much critical contemplation.' There you have it, the perfect art for 21st century America - it won’t make you think!

(....) Koons supposedly represents the 'best and brightest' from the national cultural scene - a sad 'fact' I find utterly disheartening and unacceptable. That LACMA can reward this cipher with a high-profile commission and a place in art history does not bode well for any of us. Robert Pincus-Witten, director of exhibitions at C&M Arts, put it this way; 'Jeff recognizes that works of art in a capitalist culture inevitably are reduced to the condition of commodity. What Jeff did was say, 'Let’s short-circuit the process. Let’s begin with the commodity.'

In other words - to hell with art, let’s make money."

Modern art enthusiast and critic, Waldemar Januszczak, wrote an article for the TimesOnline of the U.K., in which he describes his waning love affair with postmodern art. He was specifically writing of the U.K’s conceptual Young British Artists and the Tate Modern, but his words can just as easily apply to LACMA, Koons, and postmodern art in general. Significantly, Januszczak took great pains in his article to describe himself as a booster of contemporary art, writing that "it’s been my life, my career, my sustenance" and that when he offers a critique - "you can be confident it’s serious." Januszczak wrote:

"What we have here today is a situation that parallels events in France in the 1860s, when the Paris salon became too powerful and the impressionist revolt needed to happen to revive art. The Tate is the salon of today: pompous, arrogant, all-powerful and utterly convinced of its superiority. What began as a force for progress and coherence has turned into a cultural despot that has the government’s ear.

(....) Just as the Paris salon favoured the conceptual over the actual - pretentious history painting over vivid snapshots of everyday life - so the Tate supports art that imagines it is on a higher plane than the everyday."

It is entirely appropriate for Januszczak to compare today’s postmodern art elites with the entrenched French Academy of the 1860s and its attempts to suppress Impressionism. But LACMA’s patronage of Koons reminds one not so much of the French Salon as it does the insensitivity and pitilessness of France’s Ancien Régime just before it was overthrown by the revolution of 1789. At the same time as American museums layoff staff and cancel exhibits, as galleries go out of business and artists struggle to stay alive, while millions across America lose their jobs, homes, or both - LACMA fritters away tens of millions on what can only be seen as a monument to triviality. How many thousands of artists could LACMA commission with $25 million? How many art workshops could it subsidize in underserved communities? Let them eat cake indeed.

On March 4, 2009, the National Endowment for the Arts released the results of its research on artist unemployment rates, a report that concludes joblessness is not only skyrocketing for artists, but that the artist workforce has "contracted" and that "artists are unemployed at twice the rate of professional workers." The NEA found that in the fourth quarter of 2008, some 129,000 artists were unemployed nationally, a 63% increase from the previous year. While the NEA report did not give a state-by-state breakdown on unemployment rates for artists, a previous NEA study found that more artists live in California than in any other state of the union (some 140,620 working artists), even ranking above New York, which came in fourth. It is therefore not unreasonable to surmise that there are huge numbers of artists now unemployed in the state of California.

According to the National Assembly of State Arts Agencies, California is presently last when it comes to contributing to arts funding. The national average for state arts funding comes to $1.35 per capita - but California’s funding for the arts comes to a trifling 15 cents per citizen each year. The California Arts Council (CAC) is the state’s arts policy-setting agency, administering grant programs and directly supporting arts programs for all of the state’s citizens. It has a budget of only $5.6 million to administrate cultural affairs for the entire state of California.

A February 28, 2009 article by the Los Angeles Times reported that the unemployment rate for workers in the state of California has reached 10.1%, the state’s highest jobless rate in twenty-six years. Statistics from the Employment Development Department of the State of California show that as of January of this year, 1,954,900 Californians are out of work, with 537,000 now jobless in Los Angeles. Those are the official statistics, but how many Californians are underemployed or have simply given up looking for employment? The aforementioned Los Angeles Times piece quoted one economist as saying, "California is hemorrhaging faster than the U.S. economy."

In light of these facts, a price-tag of $25 million for the LACMA-Koons Train boondoggle verges upon lunacy, and it most assuredly is an indication of an arts institution profoundly out of touch with the realities lived by the vast majority of the working population of California and the nation. I should reiterate here that the base salary of LACMA director Michael Govan is $600,000 while the total annual compensation for a sitting president of the United States is $400,000.

Arts professionals have some soul searching to do. It is transparently obvious why a greater part of the U.S. population feels alienated from and at variance with contemporary art. In short the public’s gut reaction that art has nothing to do with them and that it is only for the privileged few, is in fact an astute observation based upon the circumstances before us. It is high time that American artists begin to create the new works and institutions that will help free the public of such an erroneous opinion.

L.A.’s MOCA in Meltdown

Los Angeles’ flagship museum dedicated to modern art of the last fifty years may cease to exist. The Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), has been incapacitated by a crushing financial crisis of its own making. On November 19, 2008, the Los Angeles Times reported that "The museum has burned through $20 million in unrestricted funds and borrowed $7.5 million from other accounts. Cash from donors is being sought. A merger has not been ruled out."

It appears that MOCA Director Jeremy Strick and the museum trustees are guilty of a total failure of leadership - not to mention the gross mismanagement of the world famous museum. As a nonprofit institution, MOCA collects little government funding and instead relies on donors for some 80% of its expenses. By checking the GuideStar website, which keeps track of nonprofits and their donors, it has come to light that Strick has a salary of $500,000. Readers should be reminded that the annual compensation of the president of the United States is $400,000. Strick also pays at least five higher-ranking MOCA employees six figure salaries. Furthermore, the Board of MOCA loaned Strick over $500,000 for the purchase of a house - all at a time when the museum is tottering on total financial collapse.

In his Open letter to MOCA’s board of trustees, L.A. Times art critic Christopher Knight puts the blame for MOCA’s crisis squarely upon Director Jeremy Strick as well as the museum’s trustees; "As trustees your first responsibility is fiduciary, and in that you have been a flop". Knight went on to disparage the supposed "rescue plans" being considered to save the museum as "shameful". The irate art critic made the following comments about the proposed rescue strategies:

"One would rent your incomparable painting and sculpture collection to a local foundation - controlled by one of your own trustees! - in exchange for some sort of multimillion-dollar annuity. The other would be a flat-out sale of it to another museum, so that you might shift the fundraising burden elsewhere, take the revenue and continue as an exhibition-only venue.

Yes, we live in a market economy, where art is bought and sold; but one of the glories of an art museum is that it provides refuge from the crude commercial world. When art enters a museum's permanent collection, it leaves the marketplace behind. That your first instinct is apparently scheming to monetize your extraordinary collection shows that you are not trustees, you are art dealers in disguise.

The third plan I've been told about is even worse - total Armageddon. A merger with the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, in which the collection and selected staff would move to the Mid-Wilshire campus and the downtown facilities would close, would mean MOCA would cease to exist. You seem to be willing to allow your own institution, one whose remarkable program and astounding collection are the envy of cities around the world, to simply disappear. Dumbfounding."

Apparently the Armageddon option has been selected. On the Los Angeles Times arts blog, Knight stated; "(....) here is what I'm told the board is now prepared to do: formally approach the Los Angeles County Museum of Art about a merger, which will effectively mean a transfer of MOCA's extraordinary collection to the Mid-Wilshire complex."

To be honest, I have never been enamored of MOCA. True enough, it houses notable works from the likes of Arshile Gorky, Robert Rauscheberg, Jackson Pollock, and others; and in 2003 it did present a wonderful retrospective of paintings by Lucian Freud. But as of late MOCA has advanced pointless and vacuous works that tell us nothing about the human condition, witness the loathsome Takashi Murakami. To survive as a viable institution, which seems doubtful at this point, MOCA’s continued existence depends on more than just massive infusions of capital - it requires a new vision. That being said, I take no particular delight in seeing one of the major art museums of my city going to ruin.

MOCA's dilemma is indicative of the crisis now rippling through the world of elite art institutions, a disaster that will only intensify as late capitalism careens into worldwide depression. But the problem is much more than just financial, it is one of art and culture having reached an aesthetic and political impasse. Breaking through that dead-end to reach the transformative and liberating will be necessary if the crisis in contemporary art is to be resolved.

UPDATES:
Dec. 23, 2008. In its article, MOCA accepts Broad’s lifeline, the Los Angeles Times reports that MOCA has voted to accept a $30-million bailout offered by billionaire Eli Broad (whose name rhymes with "load"). Additionally, MOCA's director Jeremy Strick has resigned and the ailing museum has appointed UCLA Chancellor Emeritus Charles E. Young as its CEO. Acceptance of the Broad offer ends speculation that MOCA might merge with the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

Bloomberg.com reports that in a Dec. 23 joint statement made by MOCA and the Broad foundation, Mr. Broad said; "It is in the best interest of the city for MOCA to remain independent." There is more irony to be found in that remark than in all of the postmodern art found in MOCA’s collection. In 2007 Broad was ranked by FORBES as number 42 on its list of 400 richest Americans - with an estimated net worth of over $5.8 billion. He is also the founding chairman of MOCA, and his bailout of the institution should be seen in that context. Broad is also chair of the Los Angeles Grand Avenue Authority, which plans a $1.8 billion "improvement" of the downtown area where MOCA is located.

Nov. 21, 2008. A spokeswoman for MOCA released the following statement: "MOCA has received a letter from the California attorney general's office. The California attorney general has broad jurisdiction and oversight over California nonprofits, including MOCA. The letter requested information and documents related to the museum's finances. MOCA is fully cooperating with the attorney general." So far the office of the attorney general has not commented on its investigation of the museum.

His Majesty King Mob

"One thing is certain. King Mob never wanted to find themselves here, in the house rag of cultural consumption, let alone locked away in Tate’s permanent collection. But these posters and magazines are just detritus, the record of past struggles. In the present day, the real action is elsewhere." So writes author Hari Kunzru in The Mob Who Shouldn’t Really Be Here, an article for the Tate Britain publication, TATEetc., on the subject of a minuscule collective of English radicals from the 1960s who took their name from the 1780 Gordon Riots of London. During that long-ago uprising, London’s Newgate Prison was destroyed by the rampaging multitudes, and left on its walls was a daub that credited the destruction to "His Majesty King Mob."

[ Front cover graphic from a King Mob anti-art diatribe, circa 1968. Anonymous. Courtesy Tate archive. A dancing skeleton holding a burning torch captioned "anarchy" and wearing a sash captioned "communism", unfurls a scroll labeled "Mob Law", upon which is written a message from King Mob encapsulating the group’s ideas regarding culture - "the commodity which helps sell all the others". ]

I need not recount the chronicles of King Mob as it reared its ugly little head during the turbulent 1960s, suffice it to say the rebel faction left its mark and Kunzru’s article recounts that history well enough, save for one bothersome fact. Kunzru wrote about the Mob as though it were a prehistoric fossil preserved in amber, when in fact some of its surviving cadre still publish hair-raising tirades designed to give elites apoplexy. But Kunzru was correct in noting that King Mob would have wanted absolutely nothing to do with a "cultural mausoleum" like the Tate, since the Mob was, and continues to be, opposed to art altogether - considering it "the commodity which helps sell all the others". The question is not why King Mob railed against the grotesqueries of an "outrageous society" - but why Tate Britain thought it essential to include King Mob ephemera amongst its collection of Damien Hirsts and Tracey Emins.

An archive of King Mob’s subversive printed materials has recently been acquired by Tate Britain, and several anti-art collage works by the King Mob collective are now included in the Tate Britain’s Collage Montage Assemblage exhibit which began at the museum in July, 2008. This is indeed a conundrum, especially in light of the Mob’s unambiguous views regarding art as expressed in a recent statement from them:

"A master of irony and word play, would Duchamp have savoured the irony of seeing his Urinal hailed as the most important single contribution to the evolution of modern art by cultural pundits? Unfortunately he would most likely have been flattered. The 'Urinal' is now Tate Modern's altar piece surrounded by a culturally beatified host of imitators.

One wonders what effect a gesture like smashing the urinal would have in the media, on decrepit youth and the avant garde (rather arriere garde) of the cultural establishment, especially if accompanied by a coherent explanation. We are almost tempted, but the thought of the ensuing court case, accusations of cultural vandalism equivalent to the burning of the books, even a prison sentence and certainly a crippling fine for having destroyed a priceless work of art when the aim of the original piece was to debunk any such pretensions, is enough to deter anyone."

I understand King Mob’s observation that Duchamp’s 'Urinal' is nothing more than a urinal transformed into an "altar piece" by the Priests of Postmodernism, what I cannot understand is the Tate Britain embracing the Mob’s incendiary and volatile gesticulations as "art". I suppose the Mob gets the last laugh by bringing some clarity to the situation when averring the following:

"Where anti-art as an essential part of a modern revolutionary critique was once proclaimed loudly, the simple realization that art is nothing but a consumer appendage or that popular culture is now inseparable from advertising in an utterly commoditized social life far more dire than in the late 1960s - has again been reaffirmed."

An Art World Mesmerized by Bling

As the world burns and international financial institutions fall like so many dominoes, impulsive oligarchs and imprudent investment bankers continue to put their money into the overheated contemporary art "market". At a two-day Sotheby’s London auction of works by postmodernist Damien Hirst, the artist made a whopping $169 million before the auction even closed. Among the masterpieces snatched-up; The Kingdom, a tiger shark preserved in a tank of formaldehyde ($17.2 million), and The Golden Calf, an embalmed calf with hooves and horns of 18-carat gold, also encased in a tank of formaldehyde ($18.6 million). Hirst, who did not attend the auction but monitored sales from his home, brashly stated: "I love art, and this proves I’m not alone and the future looks great for everyone".

[ The Golden Calf - Damien Hirst. Embalmed calf with hooves and horns of 18-carat gold, encased in a tank of formaldehyde. Sold at Sotheby’s for $18.6 million. Reuters photo by Suzanne Plunkett. ]

While it is easy to carp about the debauchery of the elite art world, it takes considerable effort to understand how the enjoyment of art has been substituted with the worship of celebrity artists and an effusive fawning over their ridiculously excessive prices. The esteemed art critic Robert Hughes said the following about Damien Hirst in an article published in the U.K. Guardian:

"Actually, the presence of a Hirst in a collection is a sure sign of dullness of taste. What serious person could want those collages of dead butterflies, which are nothing more than replays of Victorian decor? What is there to those empty spin paintings, enlarged versions of the pseudo-art made in funfairs? Who can look for long at his silly sub-Bridget Riley spot paintings, or at the pointless imitations of drug bottles on pharmacy shelves? No wonder so many business big-shots go for Hirst: his work is both simple-minded and sensationalist, just the ticket for newbie collectors who are, to put it mildly, connoisseurship-challenged and resonance-free.

Where you see Hirsts you will also see Jeff Koons's balloons, Jean-Michel Basquiat's stoned scribbles, Richard Prince's feeble jokes and pin-ups of nurses and, inevitably, scads of really bad, really late Warhols. Such works of art are bound to hang out together, a uniform message from our fin-de-siècle decadence.

(…. ) The now famous diamond-encrusted skull, lately unveiled to a gawping art world amid deluges of hype, is a letdown unless you believe the unverifiable claims about its cash value, and are mesmerized by mere bling of rather secondary quality; as a spectacle of transformation and terror, the sugar skulls sold on any Mexican street corner on the Day of the Dead are 10 times as vivid and, as a bonus, raise real issues about death and its relation to religious belief in a way that is genuinely democratic, not just a vicarious spectacle for money groupies such as Hirst and his admirers."

[ LEFT: Day of the Dead sugar skull from Mexico, cost - around two dollars. RIGHT: Damien Hirst’s platinum cast of a human skull encrusted with diamonds, cost - around $100.5 million. ]

Charles Thomson, co-founder of the international Stuckist movement of figurative realist artists, said this about Hirst and the Sotheby's auction:

"The auction shows only that some people have more money than sense, and certainly more money than artistic insight. Hirst repeats ideas that are already in common currency, but merely makes them a larger size, gives them a pretentious title and puts them in an inappropriate context of art. If the same items were in a gift shop at the seaside, nobody would bother looking twice at them. It shows the triumph of marketing over substance, and operates on the same level as a craze in the school playground for Teletubbies or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

The art world has historical precedents, such as the 1875 painting The Babylonian Marriage Market by auction record-breaking Victorian artist, Edwin Long, whose work fell to 10% of its previous value after his death and who is now forgotten. William-Adolphe Bouguereau was the must-have star of the 19th century French Salon. By the 1950s museums were giving his work away to get rid of it. Now he has become modestly collectible as representative of a certain affectation of the period, but his work has never regained its peak value or status. Hirst is fashionable, and fashion doesn't last. Worse than that, it later looks ridiculous.

It is significant that collectors ahead of the game, such as Charles Saatchi and Helly Nahmad - both major fans in the past - have already offloaded their Hirsts. The art world is a pass-the-parcel game, and the last person holding the parcel is the loser, when everyone else decides they don't want to play any more. Eventually some people are going to lose a lot of money. It's the same blind money-for-nothing mentality that created the sub-prime lending disaster. As Oscar Wilde said, 'Never buy anything because it is expensive.'"

Sotheby’s Hirst auction is the ultimate spectacle to come from a certain layer in the art world that has, from top to bottom, completely lost its way. It is the end result of the philosophy best expressed in 1975 by Andy Warhol, who wrote - "Making money is art, and working is art, and good business is the best art." The Golden Calf indeed.

The Shallow Jake and Dinos Chapman

There is seemingly no end to the superficiality of today’s postmodern art and the cravenness of those fame seekers who create it. In 2003 BritArt movement superstars Jake and Dinos Chapman purchased a suite of Goya’s celebrated antiwar etchings, Disasters of War, and in a gesture supposedly meant to lay bare the inadequacy of art as protest, defaced the set of 80 prints by drawing cartoon faces of clowns and puppies on them. At the time art critic Robert Hughes said the works of Goya "will obviously survive these twerps, whose names will be forgotten a few years from now." That was five years ago and sorry to say, we are still hearing about the Chapmans and their ilk. I’m loathe to mention them at all, save for the fact that they unfortunately represent a large portion of today’s art world - which needs to be emphatically criticized at every opportunity.

[ Landscape painting by Adolf Hitler - altered by Jake and Dinos Chapman. ]

The Chapmans have once again placed themselves in the spotlight with their latest publicity stunt, the despoilment of thirteen actual watercolor paintings by Adolf Hitler, upon which they painted smiley faces, rainbows, psychedelic flowers and stars. Calling the suite of defaced artworks, If Hitler Had Been a Hippy How Happy Would We Be, Jake Chapman was quoted in The Guardian as having said, "If hell exists and Hitler is there, I think he is turning in his grave." An infantile razz aimed at a long dead and despised mass-murderer hardly makes for insightful and profound art, let alone a passable joke.

Rather than a keen examination into the forces behind the rise of fascism, the Chapmans give us slapstick. Instead of investigating the links between the totalitarianism of the past and the despotism of today, the Chapmans deliver a gesture akin to the 1942 satirical recording by Spike Jones & the City Slickers, Der Fuehrer’s Face. At least the effort of Spike Jones and company had some relevancy in its day, while still being recognized for what it was - a trifling lowbrow joke. But postmodernism has obliterated the idea of high art and replaced it with the vulgarities of lowbrow. We are all cretins now. Weight, consequence, and meaning have little to do with the works of the Chapmans and their postmodernist cohorts, who think it is a clever thing to erase and otherwise rewrite history. As objets d'art Hitler’s paintings have little worth, but as historical artifacts they are a window into a dark past that we can not afford to trivialize or forget.

Artist Charles Tomson, co-founder of The Stuckist/Remodernist art movement and an implacable foe of postmodernism, offers us further elucidation regarding the Chapman/Hitler controversy in an article he wrote for CounterPunch.

Witless Whitney Wasteland

The annual Whitney Biennial at New York’s Whitney Museum of American Art is thought of by some as an important but frequently contentious survey of contemporary American art; unveiling the latest trends and directions in the U.S. art scene as well as plumbing the zeitgeist of the nation. If you accept that premise then you might also conclude that the country and its art are in very poor shape indeed.

Howard Halle of Time Out New York said the art on display at the 2008 Whitney Biennial "barely rises above the level of graduate school." Mario Naves of The Observer brusquely dismissed the exhibit as the "blandest biennial in memory", where "the easy gratifications of spectacle have replaced the rigors of engagement" and where "racial politics are no more meaningful than dressing in Viking drag." Ariella Budick of Newsday wrote a representative but altogether stinging assessment of the exhibit titled, Whitney Biennial is a wasteland, an acerbic review that not only describes the biennial, but the overall state of much of today’s art:

"The impending recession haunts us; the gradual warming of the earth terrifies us; the never-ending war in Iraq drains our strength and our emotional resources. And yet the art market soars blithely upward, impervious to crises at home and abroad. The Whitney is not in the business of selling art, but this Biennial shows that it's nevertheless caught up in the market's bizarre hysteria, swooning over mediocrity and prodigally handing out prestige. (....) The real elephant in the room is the impotence of art. This Biennial is filled with wan political statements, reluctant commodities, unpersuasively subversive gestures and acts of broken narcissism. There are not one but two pieces involving bits of mirror fastened to plywood frames - both of them incomplete reflections, hovering in midair. The entire exhibit seems gripped by awkwardness and a lack of conviction in art's ability to change lives, refract the world or even just make money."

Without voluminous wall texts and over intellectualized exhibit catalog entries, William Cordova’s installation, The House that Frank Lloyd Wright built 4 Fred Hampton and Mark Clark, is as cryptic and incomprehensible as any other postmodern mediocrity in the exhibit. A sprawling maze of wood beams that looks like a building under construction, Cordova’s work purportedly concerns the "strangeness of our own detritus and the too-often repressed histories they conceal." Little is mentioned of the historical figures the installation is named after, and museum goers are simply left to traipse about the faux construction site to wonder who Fred Hampton and Mark Clark might have been.

[ The House that Frank Lloyd Wright built 4 Fred Hampton and Mark Clark - William Cordova, Installation. 2006. Photo by Alejandra Villa/Newsday. ]

In the aftermath of the Second World War, art critics and intellectual circles redefined high art as aloof, nonrepresentational, inward looking, and unconcerned with narrative or social criticism - a judgment that represented the heedless cutting of the artist’s vocal chords. Realism in art was circumscribed as kitsch, lowbrow, and banal. The great incongruity of 21st century postmodernist art is that it has come to extol and embody those very things - with the 2008 Whitney Biennial exemplifying this contradiction.

Two Very Different Diamond Rings

Two very different diamond rings are the focus of artworks currently being discussed in the art world and beyond - Blue Diamond, a sculpture by postmodernist Jeff Koons, and Marine Wedding, a photograph by Nina Berman. The artworks are poles apart, but each illustrates in its own way the crisis American society has fallen into. The works also exemplify the contrasting directions American art is taking in the face of that crisis.

Blue Diamond is a giant, highly polished stainless steel sculpture that’s nearly eight feet tall and more than seven feet wide. The replica jewel will be sold Nov. 13 at Christie’s auction of postwar and contemporary art, and it’s expected to sell for as high as $12 million. Christie’s described the work as "an almost comic-strip archetype, a stereotype, a cliché that has burst into monumental existence in our world, speaking of wealth and luxury and awe in an open, sincere and deliberately uncritical manner." In other words, Blue Diamond is a crass celebration of ostentatious wealth that carries the moral authority and profundity of a Hallmark greeting card.

[ Blue Diamond - Sculpture by Jeff Koons. The moral authority and profundity of a Hallmark greeting card. Photo credit: Christie’s Images Ltd. ]

In contrast to the vapid kitsch offered by Koons, photographer Nina Berman puts forward a humanist vision that is at once heartrending and busting with empathy. In her photo, Marine Wedding, a diamond wedding ring is obscured by a beautiful bridal bouquet - and an unsettling vision of America’s war in Iraq. In 2004, Marine Corps reservist Ty Ziegal was trapped in a burning truck after it came under attack by Iraqi guerillas, that he survived was a miracle, but 19 rounds of reconstructive surgery could not restore the face stolen by war. The wedding day portrait of Renee Kline, 21, and Ty Ziegal, 24, has launched an eternal discussion on the meaning of love, devotion, sacrifice and war - whereas the only conversation surrounding the Koons sculpture has to do with how much it will sell for.

[ Marine Wedding - Photograph by Nina Berman. ]

It is remarkable that Nina Berman’s photograph and Jeff Koons’ sculpture exist in the same time frame, and that they are both meant to reflect the current state of American society. Berman’s Marine Wedding does so with weighty philosophical insight, while Koons’ Blue Diamond can’t even muster enough relevance to be called inconsequential.

Berman’s photo comes from a larger body of work she calls,
Purple Hearts: Back from Iraq, which are compassionate studies of wounded Iraq war vets. Marine Wedding stands alone as a jarring image, with the great majority of images from Berman’s series being quite tame and contemplative by comparison. But Purple Hearts by no means represents the totality of Berman’s vision, and an overview of her growing body of work reveals an artist sincerely pursuing an honest examination of "the American Way of Life." By comparison, even a cursory review of Koons’ oeuvre exposes an artist with all the sophistication of a corn dog.

Bizarro World & its Art Critics

Postmodern art is ostensibly challenging and aggressively cerebral, but I find it mostly hollow, complacent and ultimately tied to centers of power. I know many disagree with me, and this antagonism between camps was effusively illustrated in a Guardian article titled, Best of British?, in which art critic Jonathan Jones used his special brand of seething anti-populist rhetoric to heap scorn upon graffiti artist Banksy, and by extension, all those who oppose the elite postmodernist art world:

"(....) this isn't about talent or lack of talent. One of Banksy's most irritating attributes is his conservatism, as an artist who seems proud of the fact that he 'draws', rather than just making 'concepts'. He appeals to people who hate the Turner prize. It's art for people who think that artists are charlatans. This is what most people think, so Banksy is truly a popular creation: a great British commonsense antidote to all that snobby pretentious art that real people can't understand."

Obviously what so disturbs Mr. Jones is the visage of an artist who even now, does not abandon the conviction that drawing is at the core of art. Even a threat posed by an anonymous graffiti artist must be quarantined and purged. Not satisfied with simply attacking drawing as an example of an archaic "conservatism", Jones resorts to bullying readers into supporting his postmodernist position. Sneering about the crude and unsophisticated rabble turning their backs upon his vaunted conceptualists is clearly meant to manipulate readers - after all, who wants to be seen as an unrefined simpleton? The poisonous contempt displayed by Jones for "what most people think" about contemporary art reveals an autocratic mindset that is dead set against pluralism. One gets the feeling that if Rembrandt were alive today, Jones would rebuke him for his fine draftsmanship - or at least lecture the old master on the need to create paintings filled with unattractive and ironic subject matter.

[ So little to say.... and so much time - Banksy. Street stencil graffiti. The artist as subterranean rat. This pointed little graphic reads as a critique of the entire art world. ]

Mr. Jones lives on Bizarro World, a topsy turvy cube-shaped planet where individuals who can neither paint nor draw are considered remarkable artists. At the close of his article, Jones praises conceptualist Damian Hirst as a suitable artist to go into raptures over, yet there is no clearer example of hucksterism to be found than in the works of that unrivaled leader of the postmodernist art movement. At the same time Jones credits Banksy and his admirers for the demise of art!

"Perhaps the rise of Banksy is the fall of Art - that is, the waning of art as the force it has been in recent culture. A decade ago, the art of the Damien Hirst generation pushed itself into anyone's view of what was happening in Britain. Probably the rise of Banksy means that moment is coming to an end; people care more about other things. (....) The reason to admire Damien Hirst is that he makes art as if art mattered. In Banksy, the philistines are getting their revenge."

And there we have it. To Jones the fall of art came not with the animals pickled in formaldehyde brought to us by Damian Hirst, no, the fall came because some miscreant street graffiti artist simply wouldn’t stop drawing realistically. As a postmodern art world gatekeeper, Jones will continue to peddle this cock-and-bull story - but is anyone reading this actually prepared to tell me with a straight face that he’s correct? That more people might prefer the realistic stencil art of an insolent street artist like Banksy over the stuck-up narcissistic crap generated by Hirst and his peers, seems to strike panic into the likes of Jones, whose only reading of the situation is that people are "philistines."

Media hoopla has crowned Damian Hirst "the world’s most expensive living artist" - because his works now sell for the highest bids at auction houses. In June of 2007, Sotheby’s sold a Hirst designed pill cabinet for $19.2 million to an anonymous buyer. Supposedly an allegory on the four seasons, the 10-foot wide steel cabinet is titled Lullaby Spring, and its shelves hold 6,136 hand painted pills. Goodness knows what the unnamed purchaser intends to do with the pricey pill cabinet, perhaps donate it to a hospital? But it’s the most recent artwork from the artist’s studio, a diamond encrusted skull titled For the Love of God, that lays bare the soulless, hyper-commercialist nature of postmodern art for all to see. The skull premiered at Hirst’s recent "Beyond Belief" solo show at London’s White Cube gallery, an exhibit by the way, that made $250 million in sales during its five week run - excluding sale of the skull, which is rumored to still be under negotiation.

[ Lullaby Spring - Damien Hirst 2002. Ten foot wide steel cabinet with 6,136 hand painted pills. Manufacturing art as if it mattered - to billionaire collectors. ]

Naturally Jonathan Jones waxes poetic in his adoration of Hirst’s latest, and he asks fawningly, "What is being born, exactly? It might be the art of the 21st century." But if Hirst’s art matters… then it can only be of importance to Billionaires. Based on a platinum casting of an 18th century human skull found in a taxidermy shop, For the Love of God is covered with over 8,000 diamonds and its asking price is $100.5 million, making it the most expensive artwork ever created. Hirst and his dealer, Jay Jopling, put up the $24 million required to create the artwork, and then contracted jewelers Bentley & Skinner to inlay the precious stones. In fact, so many diamonds were used in the project that Hirst brags their "price went up as we bought them." Bentley & Skinner profess their work is the largest diamond piece created since the Crown Jewels of the British monarchy.

[ For the love of God - Damien Hirst 2007. Life-sized platinum cast of a human skull encrusted with diamonds. The preferred art of the corporatocracy. ]

There’s no doubt Hirst will make a fortune by selling For the Love of God to some oligarch - and that’s the one and only concept behind the scheming of the world’s most famous conceptualist. Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking such a business deal has anything to do with art or the uplift of humanity. Simply put, Hirst’s works are the preferred art of the corporatocracy. Hirst insists his diamond covered skull is a statement about "the maximum celebration you could make against death," but to those of us who don’t reside on Bizarro World, words from one of Banksy’s stenciled rats provide the best summation of Hirst’s work - "So little to say...."

Modernism: Designing A New World

Modernism: Designing A New World, 1914-1939, now showing at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., until July 29, 2007, was initially planned and exhibited by London’s Victoria and Albert Museum. At the time of its premiere in the U.K., I wrote a short article in praise of the exhibition, but now that the show has reached the U.S., I’d like to once again recommend - not just the exhibit - but a reconsideration of modernism.

The modernist vision began to emerge during the late 19th century, with "modernism" serving as a catchphrase for an aesthetic philosophy that encompassed visual art, music, architecture, literature and other artistic disciplines. Traditionalists credit modernism as responsible for the demise of "real art," while today’s so-called postmodernists dismiss the same movement for being hopelessly old-fashioned. "Modernism didn’t work" is a refrain often heard from postmodernists and their supporters - but that opinion is in every respect, incorrect. For instance - where was the failure in Picasso’s startling 1907 painting, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon? What didn’t work in Igor Stravinsky’s 1912 composition, Le Sacre de Printemps? Exactly how were the novels of Franz Kafka unsuccessful?

Associated Press writer Brett Zongker wrote about the show and briefly interviewed Christopher Wilk, the original curator of the exhibit for the Victoria and Albert Museum, as well as interviewing Corcoran director and president, Paul Greenhalgh. Wilk and Greenhalgh both made salient points on the relevancy of modernism in today’s context. When speaking of those early modernist firebrands who wanted to "reinvent the world," Wilk noted that "This was a younger generation who looked to the old men, essentially, who had led them into war, into a slaughter. They wanted to ditch the past and start all over again completely."

Corcoran director Greenhalgh drew a similar connection between the times lived through by the early modernists, and the "current global environment and the very troubled world that we’re living in." He went on to say that, "There's a big debate now internationally about what is art for," modernists, he declared, attempted to "transform people's lives for the better. They didn't think it was just about making nice things and selling them for a lot of money."

The crucial statements made by Wilk and Greenhalgh point not so much to artists of the past as they do to artists in the present, and the two seem to grasp, more than most contemporary artists, the essential character of modernism and its core motivating force - the desire to reform or revolutionize society. In a Reuters review of Designing A New World, reporter Randall Mikkelsen wrote: "Greenhalgh quoted art critic Robert Hughes as saying contemporary art was only interested in money, and he hoped the Modernism show would be a reminder of a time when a desire for social improvement drove artists. 'It seems to me that's the contemporary debate we should all be having now,' he said."

While the Designing A New World exhibit displays a wide range of modernist artistic production, from painting and furniture to automobile design and fashion, a chance to see the room-sized model of Vladimir Tatlin’s 1920 Monument to the Third International is by itself worth the price of admission. Considered the ultimate expression of constructivist architecture, the Soviet artist’s monument to international communism was meant to dwarf the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Had it actually been constructed, the tower of iron, glass and steel would have stood over 100 stories tall.

[ Monument for the Third International - Vladimir Tatlin 1919. Digital recreation by Takehiko Nagakura. This image depicts how Tatlin’s monument might have looked if it had been constructed. Nagakura, Associate Professor of Design and Computation at MIT, leads the Unbuilt Monuments project, where unrealized modernist architecture is given visualization. Nagakura and his team use computer software to create buildings never constructed. ]

Curator Christopher Wilk correctly observed that "Modernism is all around us today - this is our world. This is the world we live in." To my mind, modernism isn’t defunct or irrelevant at all, it has simply arrived at a difficult impasse, and what is currently referred to as "postmodern" is in actuality nothing more than late modernism. A reawakening of the modernist spirit in the 21st century could be called "Remodernism" - but that’s another essay.

Clearly L.A.’s Dominant News Farce

Corporate advertising art and design without a doubt makes up much of the modern urban environment we move through on a daily basis. It has become so omnipresent that people barely notice it - inciting major advertising corporations to dream up new schemes for attention getting in an ever escalating battle over shaping public opinion. As a result, more than a few aggressively offensive and obnoxious visual campaigns have been inflicted upon us. One that comes to mind is the current ad promotion for L.A.’s local television "news" broadcaster, CBS 2 - KCAL 9. Now blanketing Los Angeles are hundreds of illuminated bus shelters and gigantic billboards that read: "CLEARLY- L.A.’s Dominant News Force."

[ CLEARLY: L.A.'s Dominant News Force - Poster advertising CBS/KCAL television news. Illuminated bus stop shelter on the streets of Los Angeles. A picture perfect example of the Totalitarian Postmodern aesthetic. ]

That the advertising company behind this jingoistic marketing blitz decided on martial language for its promotion is bad enough, but the ruthless slogan is coupled with a militaristic image that conjures up the brutality of war. No doubt the ad execs responsible for the campaign will stand behind the subterfuge that the image simply represents the CBS/KCAL fleet of helicopters flying over the city against a backdrop of L.A.’s ubiquitous palm trees, but look again, what’s that you see - Vietnam?

[ Left: Movie poster for the film Apocalypse Now, depicting a fleet of army combat helicopters on a "search and destroy" mission over the jungles of Vietnam. Right: Theatrical poster for the musical, Miss Saigon. Someone should tell CBS/KCAL that the U.S. lost the war in Vietnam. ]

A quick glance at the official theatrical posters for the musical Miss Saigon, and the movie Apocalypse Now, tells you exactly what served as an inspiration for those ad execs behind the CBS/KCAL campaign, but honestly - someone should tell them that the U.S. lost the war in Vietnam. Or could it be that the CEO’s had the Iraq war in mind when they approved the billboard and bus shelter graphics? Perhaps they hoped that by equating the journalists of CBS/KCAL to U.S. soldiers in Iraq, some of that "support our troops" sentiment might rub off on their broadcast clients. Such an ugly and perverse display of venality coming from the commercial advertising world cannot be discounted.

[ CLEARLY: The Dominant Force? - US Army Blackhawk helicopters fly over occupied Baghdad, March 2007, in this now widely published photo taken by AFP photographer, Patrick Baz. ]

At any rate, whatever the impetus behind the CBS/KCAL ads might be, they are a picture perfect example of what I like to call, Totalitarian Postmodern, a dangerous aesthetic that threatens and undermines democratic values.

Active Resistance to Propaganda

Vivienne Westwood is one of today’s biggest names in the world of fashion design, and her creations have been considered so significant that England’s Victoria & Albert Museum mounted a retrospective of her stunning career in 2004. Westwood began her career as a fashionista in 1971 when she teamed up with Malcolm McLaren (the vainglorious manager of the Sex Pistols), to open a boutique named Let It Rock. The small retail shop specialized in bizarre garments for rock ’n roll misfits, and later renamed Sex, became the hangout for London’s punk scene. The peculiar clothes Westwood created and sold there, slashed T-shirts covered with safety pins, leather fetishware trimmed with metal studs, and tartan bondage outfits with tons of misplaced zippers - came to define the aggressive oddball look of the punk movement.

[ Photograph of Vivienne Westwood in 1977 wearing one of her infamous punk creations - the Destroy T-shirt. Made from muslin cloth and printed in lurid color, the confrontational silk-screened art combined images of an upside down crucifix, a swastika, and a small profile photo of the Queen of England. While misinterpreted by many, the graphic was meant as an angry denunciation of government, religion and fascism. ]

Since those chaotic, nascent days of punk rock, Westwood has moved on to become Britain’s dame of high fashion - although she’s still an iconoclastic rebel at heart. She owns the old shop that once housed Let It Rock, but the space has been transformed into a new boutique called World’s End, where Westwood sells her chic signature line. Currently she has other things on her mind besides runway shows and spring collections, and in an interview with the Guardian she expressed a concern for contemporary art and culture - which she bluntly insists have been "kidnapped by business."

Westwood condemns today’s so-called cutting edge art for being a "sham" devoid of humanity. To her the latest avant-garde conceptual art in galleries and museums is nothing more than "propaganda" meant to buttress a worn out and empty art world. Culture, Westwood tells us, is withering on the vine, and she asks, "how can people be so easily satisfied? Even people with talent." (Listen to an mp3 audio clip of the interview.)

To provoke a discussion on contemporary art and its possible future, Westwood has written Active Resistance to Propaganda, a whimsical yet sober art manifesto that she will publicly present at a literary festival this month in England - here are some excerpts:

"Dear Friends, we all love art and some of you claim to be artists. Without judges there is no art. She only exists when we know her. Does she exist? The answer to this question is of vital importance because if Art is alive the world will change. No art, no progress.

Music has not yet been conceptualised by the art mafia, though they are trying. We do not accept a symphony composed on the remaining three keys of a broken piano, accompanied by the random throwing of marbles at a urinal. Yet its equivalent is the latest thing in the visual arts. (Aren'tya OD'd on the latest thing?) Items selected from real life and set up as art do not represent a view of life. The famous urinal is still a urinal whatever you do with it."

Forget "isms" - except eclecticism

Forget "isms" - except eclecticism, was an October 1st, 2006, essay written for the Los Angeles Times by art critic Christopher Knight. He opened his article with the following statement: "Those discrete movements you studied in art history? They're long gone. Today, it's all about diversity - and quality, of course." Knight moved out of the shadows and into the spotlight with his unmistakably postmodernist declaration. Avowing there are no more movements in art and all genres of art are now equal, Knight declared:

"Twentieth century art was long charted as an almost linear succession of "isms" - from Fauvism in 1905 to Abstract Expressionism in the 1950s - discrete movements that each expressed its own unitary view of things. The monolithic view that had congealed by the 1960s was a belief that the eye held dominion over art. That limited judgment was toppled by Conceptualism, which devalued everything visual in art and instead polished up the stature of ideas."

Knight’s wholly ahistorical argument describes a world where history and art did not unfold linearly in reaction to historical circumstances. He blithely infers that 20th century western art movements were simply conjured up as matters of convenience, rather than being responses to societal, cultural and economic factors. He apparently wants us to believe that today’s art is somehow free from precisely these same overbearing pressures, and that it possesses no overarching politics. Knight insists that we are living in a period when "isms" have become a thing of the past, but he brazenly ignores the three biggest "isms" of our time, capitalism, globalism, and fundamentalism - all of which are exerting extraordinary power in shaping the direction of contemporary art.

Knight practically gloats over Conceptualism as a cleansing agent - a purer art based on theory and detached intellectualism. His cooing echoes the noises made by those art elites mocked in Thomas Wolfe’s 1975 sardonic screed against modern art, The Painted Word, a remarkably prescient and mordant denunciation of those who would devalue everything in visual art for the sake of theoretical gobbledygook. In his article, Knight advances the notion of the contemporary art world thriving in "robust artistic bounty," due to what he calls the state of "pluralism" we allegedly find ourselves in, though he prefers to call this condition "eclecticism." According to Knight, eclecticism allows for the embracing of diversity "while also demanding quality." But the postmodernist insistence on smashing and overturning aesthetic schools, styles and structures has delivered only a false model of diversity - that which is found in the fragments of an exploded monolith. As for the question of quality, that too will be left to the levelers, given that we are told one person’s subjective opinions and concepts regarding truth and beauty are as good as the next.

Driving home his point about the multiplicity found in today’s art scene, Knight wrote, "The extreme breadth of artistic diversity is so familiar and so routine as to border on invisibility." His mentioning invisibility certainly applies to a great many artists, but not in the way he meant. A quick survey of the museum and gallery system in the United States reveals a stunning absence of works created by racial minorities, not to mention the abysmally low numbers of women found in the art world. Art critic Jerry Saltz, writing for the Village Voice, referred to the exclusion of women as "a failure of the imagination that amounts to apartheid." So much for Knight’s vaunted "diversity." Obviously Knight was pointing at the numerous range of styles and artistic disciplines competing for attention, but a single worldview can be presented in profuse ways. If we examine contemporary art for content we’ll find not diversity but a stunning conformity.

The missing piece in Knight’s diversity puzzle is an art that is both passionate about humanity and expressive of concerns for social justice. While such schools of art existed previously in the examples set by the Mexican Muralists, German Expressionists, and the Social Realists of 1930’s America, today there is little evidence of such art being included in Knight’s "pluralistic" art world. That’s not to say such artworks are not currently being created, just that they are effectively marginalized by the present-day gatekeepers who shape and manufacture public taste and opinion. There are some ideas in art so diametrically opposed that the discord between them will never cease, and as in every battle, there will be winners and losers. I speak here of the age old quarrel between advocates of art for art’s sake, and those, like myself - who insist art cannot be detached from social reality.

Knight comes close to a revelatory thought when he writes; "The idea that two or more kinds of ultimate artistic reality could comfortably coexist hasn't always been in vogue." Indeed, in some quarters the craze of facile aesthetic coexistence is fashionable, but fashion does not make for a set of indisputable facts. Thankfully, we can all take comfort in knowing that fashions melt away and are soon forgotten, so that what is now in vogue will soon be nothing more than tomorrow’s memories. At any rate, we should be exploring and expanding upon what is perennial in art, rather than chasing after the latest fads of the day.

Those long gone discrete art movements condescendingly dismissed by Knight, did not simply appear from the ether, they were logical and necessary developments that ruptured staid and conservative forces, advancing the history of art in the tumultuous process - we are sorely in need of such a movement today. Knight’s attempt to convince readers that the historic "linear succession of 'isms'" has finally played itself out, and that the art world has forever been liberated by the forces of Pop and Conceptualism - bringing us to the current state of "pluralism" where anything goes and all things are equal - sounds remarkably like the now thoroughly discredited neo-conservative concept of "The End of History."

American philosopher and leading neoconservative, Francis Fukuyama, wrote the 1989 essay The End of History, in which he stated; "What we may be witnessing is not just the end of the Cold War, or the passing of a particular period of post-war history, but the end of history as such: that is, the end point of mankind's ideological evolution and the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government." Fukuyama interpreted the collapse of the Soviet Union as a total victory for liberal democracy, whereupon the human race would step up to the next epoch free of ideology, class conflict, and the linear march of history. There would be no more "isms." Fukuyama’s hypothesis resonated in the postmodernist echo chamber where it completely dovetailed with the view of a globalized and pluralistic world community without a dominant center of power.

But the neocon bubble burst in February of 2006, when Fukuyama published another controversial essay titled, After Neoconservatism, as the third anniversary of the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq approached. The right-wing philosopher could no longer countenance the misdeeds perpetrated by the neocons in the White House, especially when it came to the debacle in Iraq. Fukuyama bluntly stated: "Neoconservatism, as both a political symbol and a body of thought, has evolved into something I can no longer support." Suddenly history was once again on the march. If only we had such defectors from the postmodernist camp in the art world.

Knight’s unconvincing depiction of "eclecticism" carries as much weight as the tortuous and threadbare cock-and-bull stories told by Charles Jencks in his 1996 book, What is Post-Modernism? Jencks, a respected American architect, exponent of "radical eclecticism," and leading advocate of postmodern plurality, asserted in his book that power has today become decentralized and non-hierarchical. I don’t know what world he’s describing, but it certainly isn’t the one I live in. Jencks writes of a modern epoch where "the information explosion, the advent of organized knowledge, world communication and cybernetics," has done away with all class antagonisms, forever changing the workplace and replacing the proletariat with the "cognitariat" - or those whose job it is to manage information. Jencks wrote the following in his book:

"In the postmodern world, 1960 onwards, most of the previous relations of production have altered and the whole value system has been distorted. (....) Unlike the previous systems of production, where an aristocracy and bourgeoisie asserted power over a limited resource in order to exploit it effectively, the postmodern world is not owned, or run, or led, by any class or group, unless it is the cognitariat."

Jencks’ claim that in our world, no class owns a limited resource or exploits that ownership to its advantage - is patently and demonstrably ridiculous. Forbes magazine assembled a directory in March, 2006, that listed some 800 world billionaires. Jencks would have us believe that these international captains of industry exercise no effective control over the world economy, and that their power has instead been superseded by a vague and ill-defined group he calls the "cognitariat." As with the luster of Christopher Knight’s fairytale "eclecticism," the veneer of Jencks’ idealized postmodern globalized world fades away to reveal the same old hierarchical class relations.

When Art Becomes Inhuman

The article When Art Becomes Inhuman was written by neo-conservative Karl Zinsmeister for a 2002 edition of The American Enterprise magazine. Zinsmeister’s commentary was a general condemnation of modern art, with a sharp focus upon the extremes of postmodernism - which he described as a "left-wing cause." Zinsmeister sarcastically declared, "Surely you’ve noticed that the art smarties never lay out Cuban flags for gallery visitors to trample on, or decorate Martin Luther King’s picture with elephant dung." He mocked the mental state of abstract artists by saying, "mightn’t it tell us something that Willem de Kooning’s abstract expressionist compositions didn’t change in quality after he lost his mind to Alzheimer’s disease?" Zinsmeister even compared Gays to child molesters when he wrote that works singing the praises of "voyeurism, drugs, homosexuality, and pedophilia" filled the nation’s trendy art galleries.

You might think Karl Zinsmeister to be just another intransigent stick-in-the-mud who takes the furthermost right-wing position on every social issue, a narrow-minded individual to be dismissed and forgotten - and you might be right - save for the fact that he’s a newly appointed member of the Bush administration.

In May of this year, President Bush picked the 47 year old Karl Zinsmeister as his principal domestic policy adviser. Over the years Zinsmeister has played a leading role in America’s "culture wars," working for the past 12 years as editor in chief for The American Enterprise magazine. That glossy periodical is associated with the American Enterprise Institute - a think tank for neoconservatives that has done much to shape the policies of the Bush White House. Glancing at Mr. Bush’s list of favorite books, it’s not hard to imagine the Commander in Chief being flustered by writings beyond his reading level, so perhaps President Malaprop first noticed Zinsmeister by way of a comic book published by Marvel Comics in 2005. Combat Zone: True Tales of GI’s in Iraq, was written by none other than Karl Zinsmeister, and supposedly based on his experiences as an "embedded" journalist with the American 82nd Airborne in Iraq.

I mention Zinsmeister’s political views because they have a direct correlation to his likes and dislikes concerning art, and a man in such an influential position should be carefully listened to. It comes as no surprise that conservatives and traditionalists have applauded Zinsmeister’s cutting remarks against modern art - he has a powerful mass base that represents a populist backlash against contemporary art. The Art Renewal Center, those champions of all things conservative in art, have reprinted Zinsmeister’s article in its entirety - though they neglect to inform their readership of the author’s neo-conservative political orientation or the fact that he works for the Bush administration.

I’m not a supporter of the postmodernist super-stars of the art world Zinsmeister attacks in his article, and any regular reader of this web log knows I’m one of their staunchest critics. But where the right sees politically correct left wingers bent on destroying western heritage, I see apathetic apolitical intellectuals who are socially disengaged. There are few sectors of society less interested in political theory and activism than the contemporary art world, as a cursory view of international art web sites and web logs makes perfectly clear.

It is natural for art to overthrow the established order, and the name for such upheaval is progress. Historically artists have always been visionaries ahead of their times and at odds with the status quo. The Dadaists, Cubists, Surrealists, Expressionists, Constructivists and Abstract artists all hurled their contempt at comfortable society and we’re better off for it. But these eruptions didn’t take place simply because a small group of artists fancied a new style - the ruptures were necessary because established orders became ossified and essentially had nothing left to offer. We have reached another such point in time. While the spirit and motivation of the aforementioned groups was revolutionary in intent, and a similar stance may have once moved today’s early postmodernists - no such spirit stirs in them presently. They merely clamor for wealth, press, accolades, and awards from the established circles of power - of which they are a part. Postmodernism is certainly due for an unseating, but Zinsmeister and crowd are not the ones to oust it.

Zinsmeister and his followers decry avant-garde art as the workings of an ultra-liberal and politically correct art establishment that does its best to "shock, flout, insult, and otherwise chuck rocks at polite society." But it is hypocritical and duplicitous for Zinsmeister to condemn modern art for its supposed inhumanity, while at the same time supporting a presidency that has sanctioned torture, preemptive war and the abrogation of the constitutional rights of American citizens. In barbarous times there can be no polite society, and Zinsmeister evidently cannot understand, or refuses to admit, that "art becomes inhuman" only when society itself has become a horrid charnel house.

The Vacuum of the Tate Ivory Tower

The famous German playwright, Bertolt Brecht, once said, "What is the robbing of a bank compared to the founding of a bank?" I wonder what Brecht would say about banks having become benefactors to today’s art museums? The Tate Modern gallery in London just recently rehung its collection at a cost of £1 million, or around $1,860,000, an expenditure underwritten by UBS - a Swiss bank and one of the largest corporate sponsors of the Tate. Interestingly enough, the giant financial institution has been given access to the Tate so that the bank can now exhibit its extensive private collection of artworks. As you might expect, having the museum exhibiting UBS’s private collection will cause the value of the artworks to skyrocket, and when the bank decides to sell its collection - more than a considerable profit will be made.

[ "We will not showcase a private collection." Sir Nicholas Serota, Director of Britain's Tate Modern gallery, standing in front of Andy Warhol's Marilyn Diptych at the Tate Modern. ]

In 2000, Sir Nicholas Serota, the Tate's director, said the ruling decree of his leadership was "simply, that we will not showcase a private collection". If this sounds like cronyism to you, you’re not alone. Reporting on the controversy, the Telegraph quoted the co-founder of the Stuckists, Charles Thomson; "I think the Tate has tarnished its reputation so much that visitors have no idea what they are looking at any more. What is the reason for a particular work being there? Is it cronyism? Is it mercenary? Or does the work actually have any artistic value. Could I pay for a small room to house my own work? I might be able to outbid the UBS deal."

I e-mailed Charles Thomson of the London Stuckists and asked him for more details regarding the latest controversy at the Tate, and whether or not the museum had contacted him with the going rates on renting an exhibit room. Here’s what he wrote back:

"Surprisingly the Tate has not hot-footed it in my direction with their rate card, but what is now established is that the Tate can be bought. In the current edition of Modern Painters magazine, Vincent Todoli comments that money doesn't give power, but it does give access. Of course, access is power, so the whole thing is another Tate mincing of words, reminiscent in particular of Sir Nicholas Serota's excuse last year for signing a false grant application for trustee Chris Ofili's work as a 'failing in his head' and in general of a trip with Alice through the looking glass.

In line with this mentality Serota has downplayed the UBS presence as just three small rooms. They're not small and they're bang in the middle of the third floor (which is the first floor of displays at Tate Modern), i.e. a prime position. Compared to this Vuillard and Bonnard, for example, are tucked away in a much smaller side room.

What is astonishing is that it costs the Tate £1,000,000 to rehang their collection. How the hell do they manage to spend that much money? What are their numerous curators doing the rest of the time? Isn't that their job - curating the display? Shouldn't a rehang be absorbed into their running costs? They've got 21 staff earning over £50,000 - perhaps they should roll their sleeves up occasionally. Tate Modern's 2004-2005 expenditure on staff for its 'public programme' was £5,775,000 but this couldn't even accommodate trundling works in and out of storage. (Tate's total costs for around 1,245 staff were £29,029,000.)

Tate Modern's first hang was completely off the wall, so as to speak, and deeply unpopular. The Tate nobly advocated that they didn't want to force the work into a curatorially-imposed straightjacket - in other words to hang it chronologically by school as museums had always done. They succeeded in imposing the straightjacket of all straightjackets by devising abstract categories according to - to what, one might ask? Words such as 'matter' and 'object' appeared in large lettering and the work was grouped idiotically according to them. If you wanted to find works by Picasso you had to search through different floors and rooms. The trouble is, you still do with the new hang, so the thing that everyone wanted still hasn't been achieved - namely a genuinely non-curatorially imposed schema, but instead one created by the reality of history, the reality of an artist's career and the reality of the school within which that artist worked with other artists, influencing and being influenced by them.

Serota doesn't care much for reality. He attends to the concepts which he constructs in the vacuum of the Tate ivory tower. Just as conceptual art disenfranchises the public through its basis in inbred artworld references within references, so does this museum mentality, which one might term 'conceptual curating'. Like conceptual art, it's great in theory and crap in practice. So we haven't even got our million pounds worth anyway.

Ironically the most successful parts of the new display are the most conventional, like the large room where cubist works are hung (with great daring by the £50,000 p.a. curators) with - other cubist works. Also innovative and enjoyable are some walls where works are hung in a two or three deep design, reminiscent of the old salon style and also, as more than one visitor has pointed out to me, The Stuckists Punk Victorian show at the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool in 2004, which Serota visited and spent a long time studying. The Walker described the show as 'a really, really popular show and very successful'. Saatchi is now an unashamed Stuckist in all but name and has embodied our ideas in stating painting is the 'most vital' art form, as well as creating an open access for artists to post work on his website. Saatchi is six years behind the Stuckists and Serota normally lags six years behind Saatchi, so in 2012 we might even get a hang that is really, really popular and very successful at the Tate. "

The Art of the Fart!

The Tate Modern gallery in the UK is defending its bold resolve to play a non-stop audio tape loop of fart noises as part of the museum's permanent exhibition. According to The Times, "Martin Creed’s Work No 401 is a recording of nine minutes of the artist blowing raspberries into a microphone, which is played back on a loop. It can be heard throughout the new Material Gestures wing, which contains works by Claude Monet and Mark Rothko."

Martin Creed's volley of whopping, supersonic, toxic streaming trouser trumpets announces the superiority of conceptual art, and the twanging air biscuits of his postmodernist fartorama will unquestionably please the most hardcore aficionados of modern art - but it will no doubt cause others to flee as one would before a tsunami of stinky cushion creepers. Let’s give no quarter to those unadventurous conservatives who shrink from works that are innovative and forward-looking. Let’s acknowledge Mr. Creed for what he is - a genius and master fartist.

No mere peep, piffle or imperceptible pip, no squeak or meek butt belch... not for Mr. Creed - come on, we're talking about real art here. He doesn't fool around with the minor pocket frog or poot type of flatulence, Creed is an Art Star, and he didn't get there for lack of technical virtuosity in the fart department - no, he's well versed in the history of blowing one's horn, and the elite art critics will never condemn him for laying an egg.

Don't anyone accuse Creed of not being on the cutting edge, you can't accuse him of selling out by offering the public scant air tulips - he doesn't deal in feather farts, toots, guffs, or carpet slippers. Creed belongs to the let her rip, peel the paint off the wall, knicker ripper, open yer lunchbox, let Polly out of jail, rapid succession of particularly pungent ballistic match lighters, school of farting. His conceptual pyroclastic flow is the remote controlled fart machine to blow away those who think art is something old-fashioned like drawing and painting with skill and vision. Fartaholic Creed gives the big raspberry to such antiquated thinking - a Scud Missile, air blast assassination, barn burning, cheek flapping, big rip snorting rhino stopper salute to the death of art.

And then there's the good staff at the Tate. The Director of the Tate Modern, Vicente Todoli, made a window rattling defense of Creed's gusty Work No 401 by saying "This kind of acoustic - you hear it every day of your life." Well indeed, we do hear great big flowery woof woof's on a daily basis, and the fact that the average human releases anywhere from 1 to 3 pints of flatus each day, well - let's just say that gives artists a lot of material to work with. But why stop there, we have all manner of bodily secretions to inspire the creation of great artworks. Artists could explore the possibilities of working with vomit, mucus, gastric juice and smegma - and it’s wonderful to know that an institution like the Tate would be willing to support the exhibition of such masterworks.

The permanent collections curator at the Tate Modern, Frances Morris, compared Creed's wet willy tape to works by past masters, saying "Many of these great works of art were originally deliberately provocative and were met with utter derision." How true, and being able to compare works created by rebellious Impressionists, Modernists or even wild-eyed Minimalists, to a tape loop of recorded gale force Cockney cheers, is apparently all you need these days to land a job at a prestigious museum. But then, what do I know... I'm just a realist painter passing gas. However, Morris does have a point about the likes of Claude Monet having to suffer the abuse heaped upon him for being a rebellious painter. If only he had known - he would have tossed away his canvases and brushes and instead struggled to become a famous balloon fart arse cruncher.

Warhol’s $11.7 Million Dollar Soup Can

The May 9th feeding frenzy at Christie’s auction house in New York signifies a new level of absurdity for the art world. The New York Times dubbed it the evening when "Minimalism went mainstream." Walter Robinson, writing for artnet.com, politely referred to it as "irrational market exuberance," and noted the otherworldly nature of it all, "A galvanized metal box, roughly two feet square and six inches deep, covered with a blue plastic lid -- an untitled Donald Judd sculpture from 1985 -- the work carried a presale estimate of $300,000-$400,000, and followed the sale of two dozen similar boxes for similarly high prices. $300,000 for a shallow metal box?" Judd’s box eventually sold for $450,000. That evening’s auction brought in $143 million dollars in sales, establishing record prices for several artists living and deceased.

[ Small Torn Campbell’s Soup Can - Andy Warhol 1971. A steal at $30 in 1962. Sold at Christie’s in 2006 for $11.7 million. ]

Andy Warhol’s 1962 Small Torn Campbell’s Soup Can was purchased for $11.7 million by billionaire Eli Broad, the same financial magnate behind the gentrification of downtown Los Angeles. After the acquisition, Broad commented, "I collect Warhols, it’s a great work." Indeed, it’s a celebrated image, and many have referred to Warhol’s soup cans as "the most recognizable images of the 20th Century" - but does recognizability transfer into greatness? And should the mere condition of being recognizable to large numbers of people transform an object into a commodity worth millions? Obviously we are no longer talking about art or its function, unless you accept the notion of art being nothing more than another sphere of commerce, an idea best summed up by Warhol when he said, "good business is the best art."

Small Torn Campbell’s Soup Can was a painting created by Warhol in 1962, part of a series of 32 paintings of soup cans. Los Angeles dealer, Irving Blum, mounted Warhol’s first solo exhibit in 62 - and ended up purchasing all 32 paintings from the artist for $1,000. In time Blum let his collection of Warhol paintings go, and they eventually made their way to Christie’s auction block - but by then they were no longer worth around $30 each. Three other major sales of Warhol’s were made at Christie’s to unidentified telephone bidders. S&H Green Stamps, also painted in 1962, sold for $5.1 million. A 1974 silkscreen print by Warhol of actress Brigitte Bardot went for $3 million, while his suite of sixteen silkscreens titled Flowers sold for $3.9 million. The Guardian's business section reports that the buyers are "believed to be Russian billionaires on an oil and commodity-fuelled spending spree" - which puts an interesting spin on things. The Russian oligarchs with their "shock therapy privatization" schemes made untold billions after the collapse of the Soviet Union, leaving a trail of corruption, criminality and suffering in their wake. While the Robber Barons have enlarged their collection of art, the Russian people will no doubt be happy to know it was done at their expense.

Back in October of 2005, I wrote about Warhol in a post titled, Andy Warhol Still Dead! In my article I reexamined the critique of Warhol’s career made by Robert Hughes, who compared the artist to Ronald Reagan, when writing "the shallow painter who understood more about the mechanisms of celebrity than any of his colleagues, whose entire sense of reality was shaped, like Reagan’s sense of power, by the television tube. Each, in his way, coming on like Huck Finn; both obsessed with serving the interests of privilege. Together, they signify a new moment: the age of supply-side aesthetics."

Don’t get me wrong, I like Warhol well enough, I have a mechanically reproduced poster of his Dollar Sign silkscreen print hanging in my studio. I’d even be being willing to purchase his original works - provided they carried the $30 price tag of 1962. You may think that a rude remark, but it begs the question, just who is art for anyway? Not so long ago someone actually purchased a Warhol painting for $30, now the same work goes for $11.7 million. Warhol turned to silkscreen printing because it enabled the mass production of image making - a work methodology that you’d think would lead to greater, not less, accessibility to the artist’s artworks.

[ Untitled - Donald Judd. Stainless steel box. 1971. Mind you, this is not the same masterwork that sold at Christie’s for $450,000 - but when you’ve seen one shallow metal box you’ve seen them all. ]

For some unknown reason collectors continue to amass works by the odious Damien Hirst. His ridiculous 1995 Away from the Flock, Divided, a lamb cut in half length-wise and suspended in two vats of blue formaldehyde, sold for a whopping $3.4 million, marking a record sale for the king of postmodernist taxidermy. Also on the auction block was a scuba diver’s Aqualung cast in bronze by pathetic goon Jeff Koons (Warning: this link presents explicit sexual images by Koons.) In the best tradition of pseudo-intellectual artspeak, Koons refers to his bronze as a "tool of equilibrium." The object’s purpose has been nullified. The contraption’s function of supporting life has been reversed into its opposite, it’s become something that would sink and drown a person. This more fully describes the art world than it does the bronze by Koons, and the damned thing selling for $4.6 million only proves my point. Of course there were others sharing the limelight with Judd, Warhol, Hirst, and Koons, but I think by now you are tired of reading about such foolishness - and besides, I must get back to painting at my easel.

Venice Really Is Sinking, Isn’t It?

Francois Pinault is the billionaire who owns the Gucci fashion group, Yves St Laurent, the Chateau Latour vineyard and the auction house, Christie’s. He is the 74th richest man in the world, and it’s only fitting that a business oligarch be allowed to help shape the face of contemporary art, after all - culture is just another commodity in today’s monopolized/globalized market, no? Pinault is one of the elite art world’s gatekeepers, shaping and molding contemporary art through acquisition; he bestows fame and legitimacy to contemporary artists by adding their works to his enormous collection of postmodern art, and his new museum in Venice, Italy just opened to the public on April 30th, 2006.

The Palazzo Grassi on the Grand Canal, an 18th Century palace the magnate purchased from the city of Venice, will now house some of Pinault’s never before seen collection of 2,500 artworks. The billionaire transformed the building into a citadel for the conceptual - and indeed the palace has literally taken on those trappings. Its beautiful neo-classical waterfront façade has been wrapped in a skin of entwined luminous turquoise cords from the roof of the edifice to the waterline below. Created by Olafur Eliasson, the covering is meant to evoke "the motifs of the oriental carpets that once hung from the balconies of the noble palazzi lining Venice’s watery main thoroughfare."

[ La barbarie à visage humain - Barbarism with a Human Face. The bourgeois descend for a gala celebration of culture on opening night at the Palazzo Grassi. Pictured is gadfly French philosopher Bernard-Henri Levy with wife, actress Arielle Dombasle. ]

The Grassi’s first exhibit, Where are we going?, would appear to have taken its name from the famous painting by Paul Gauguin (D'ou venons nous? Que sommes nous? D'ou allons nous? - Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?, painted in 1897-98.) But think again, the exhibition almost exclusively focuses on everything but painting. It was named after a work on display by postmodernist art huckster extraordinaire, Damian Hirst, Where Are We Going? Where Do We Come From? Is There a Reason? Hirst’s installation displays the collected skeletons of birds, reptiles, amphibians, mammals, a few impossible hybrids, a human skull and a tiny fetus in a jar. Lucky art lovers will also be able to view two of Hirst’s sliced cows preserved in formaldehyde - now I ask you, why on earth would you want to travel to Venice to see Titians and Tintorettos when you could see a sliced and pickled cow at the Grassi?

Guardian art critic Jonathan Jones reports that Hirst is now worth £100m (that’s around $180,288,800 Yankee dollars.) Jones poses the question, Do rich artists make bad art?, and he answers with the sad lament - "What would Van Gogh have done if you offered him Hirst's money as he stood there in the cornfield, pistol cocked? I think he would have pulled the trigger that bit more firmly."

[ Balloon Dog Magenta by Jeff Koons - a sculpture that would look more at home in a flower shop. ]

But the Grassi circus doesn’t end with Damien Hirst, you can also see disquieting photos of mannequin genitalia taken by Cindy Sherman, an entire room of minimalist scrawls by Raymond Pettibone, and Balloon Dog Magenta by Jeff Koons - a sculpture that would look more at home in a flower shop. Then of course there’s Carl Andre’s 37th Piece of Work, which is nothing more than a courtyard covered with 1,296 differently colored metal plates (let’s hope there’s not a 38th piece of work.) But the piece de resistance would have to be Maurizio Cattelan’s schoolboy-sized statue of Adolf Hitler, a quite realistic sculpture made of resin, wax, and human hair titled, Him. Yes, Venice really is sinking isn’t it?

[ The Grassi circus includes Maurizio Cattelan’s, Him, - a postmodernist statue of Adolf Hitler. No history, no critique, no point. ]

Since Mr. Pinault fancies himself a contemporary Maecenas or Medici, it was only proper for him to be surrounded by fellow barons during the gala celebration that marked the opening of the Grassi. Members of the billionaire class in attendance that evening included Benetton fashion empire board member Alessandro Benetton, heir of the FIAT empire John Philip Elkann, and Ferrari president Luca di Montezamolo, amongst others. Aside from screaming, I wouldn’t know how to behave in such a social situation, and I’d more than likely be seized by an urge to break things - which could be perilous in a room filled with dead bovines suspended in large vats of formaldehyde.

Having traveled the canals and narrow streets of Venice and poured over the city’s priceless art treasures encountered in its many glorious museums, I’m more than a little familiar with the well deserved reputation the place has as a center of the Renaissance arts. Call me a philistine, but I’m not ready to forsake the art of the Renaissance in favor of the money-spinning trend mongers and their stables of fashionable postmodern artists. I’d rather gaze upon a single painting by Andrea Mantegna then view the Grassi’s entire collection of minimalist chicken scratchings. Like seeing the oil slicks deposited on the Grand Canal by the city’s heavily motorized boat traffic, I can’t help but feel Venice has been contaminated by the presence of Pinault’s collection. There are reports many Venetians have been baffled by what they’ve seen at the Grassi, but their consternation is dismissed by a chorus of media determined to sing the praises of the benevolent billionaire and art king maker, Francois Pinault. I’m here, merely to say - the Emperor has no clothes.

David Byrne & the Filipino Dictators

[ Back in October of 2005, I composed an essay about Here Lies Love, a musical produced by postmodernist artist and ex-member of the Talking Heads, David Byrne. I originally intended to publish my article next March when the musical premieres at the 2006 Adelaide Arts Festival in Australia, however recent events have caused me to immediately publish the expose.

On February 24, 2006, Philippine President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo declared a state of emergency in her nation - the very day the Filipino people were celebrating the 20th anniversary of the democratic People Power movement that non-violently toppled the fascist regime of Ferdinand Marcos. Arroyo now rules by decree, and she has revoked all permits for demonstrations, banned rallies and allowed arrests without warrants. She has also given herself the power to seize media outlets and to direct the army to crush political opponents. In defiance, former President and leader of the People Power movement, Corazon Aquino, led a march of thousands to a shrine commemorating the People Power protests - and they were met with riot police who brutally attacked them with clubs and water cannons. As Arroyo drags the Philippines back into the dark days of martial law, it’s time to examine the rewriting of history being offered by David Byrne’s, Here Lies Love. My original article, written in October of 2005, now follows:]

I groaned when I first read that rocker turned postmodernist artist, David Byrne, has written a musical about Imelda Marcos. Does the world really need another de-politicized musical ala Evita? Byrne collaborated with British DJ Fatboy Slim to produce, Here Lies Love, which will premiere next March at the 2006 Adelaide Arts Festival in Australia. A spokesperson for the festival says the musical depicts "a non-stop party, featuring politicians, arms dealers, financiers, artists, musicians and the international jetset. Here Lies Love recreates and musically updates that buoyant mood in a music and theatrical event that hits the highs, the lows, the triumphs, the tears and the eventual fall of this truly astounding political figure." It’s not often that a fascist tyrant is described as a "truly astounding political figure."

Byrne’s official website states the artist’s works are "often described as elevating the mundane or the banal to the level of art, creating icons out of everyday materials to find the sacred in the profane." There was nothing mundane about life under the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos - except perhaps the monotonous regularity of political repression, and there certainly wasn’t anything sacred about Imelda - a woman who traveled around the world to shop at the ritziest boutiques while thousands of political prisoners rotted in her husband’s dungeons. The two ran the Philippines like potentates, creating a government of cronies that was nothing more than a cleptocracy. The people suffered massive human rights abuses under the rule of Ferdinand and Imelda, while the two plundered an estimated $20 billion of the nation’s wealth for personal gain. Tens of thousands of Filipinos were jailed, forced into exile, or simply murdered. All of that misery eventually caused the people to rise in revolution.

The final straw came when the dictatorship assassinated Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino, a prominent opposition politician. On August 21st, 1983, Ninoy returned home from exile, but as soon as he disembarked from his plane at Manila International Airport he was shot and killed - with his murder broadcast on Philippine television. His killing unleashed the forces that would topple the Marcos regime. In 1986, the non-violent People Power Revolution would sweep the dictatorship away as millions of Filipinos took to the streets - driving Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos into exile. As the people took over Malacañang palace where Marcos had ruled, they were shocked at the ostentatious display of wealth. There were warehouses full of jewels, artworks, gifts, and tribute. Ornate rooms existed for nightly banquets, along with an entire ballroom where Imelda could twitter away the night singing karaoke with her rich guests. And of course there was Imelda’s personal collection of expensive shoes. 3,000 pairs of her shoes were housed in a special five room area of the presidential palace - all at a time when the majority of Filipino children went barefoot and hungry.

According to the organizers of the Adelaide Arts Festival, Here Lies Love focuses on Imelda’s obsessive love of discos, a viewpoint that will no doubt humanize the face of one of history’s worst despots. In all fairness, Adelaide organizers say the musical is a "timeless story with more contemporary resonances than are comfortable." But that single sentence plucked from the musical’s official press release is the only shred of evidence Here Lies Love may be more than a glitzy production with smoke and strobe light effects. That the musical is supported by the US State Department should tell you everything you need to know. During the cold war the US backed the fanatically anti-communist Marcos, even as he extinguished the last vestiges of democratic rule. Washington’s cozy relationship with the tyrants in Manila ultimately caused Filipinos to speak of the "US Marcos dictatorship." This is not likely to be included in Byrne’s myopic look at history - hence the US State Department seal of approval. I think the world’s people have heard enough about Imelda and her damn shoes. David Byrne could have better spent his talent writing a tribute to Ninoy Aquino, the man who gave his life to bring democracy to the Philippines.

Ruscha, MOCA, Pettibon & Bush

No it’s not a law firm, but you might be asking, "what on earth do those names have in common?" On January 17th, Artnet Magazine reported that the “Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles, has added three new trustees to its board, among them artist Ed Ruscha, whose work has been included in eight exhibitions at the museum over the years." What Artnet failed to mention in their report was the connection the renowned Pop artist has to the administration of George W. Bush. The Bush State Department selected Ruscha as "America’s representative" to the 2005 Venice Biennale - a position the artist enthusiastically accepted. Back in May of 2005, to the great chagrin of Ruscha’s legions of flatterers, fellow artist James W. Bailey and I wrote about Ruscha’s association with the Bush State Department, an article that takes on renewed importance now that Ruscha has become a trustee at L.A.’s Museum of Contemporary Art.

And speaking of collaborative projects with the king of minimalist postmodernisms, Ruscha has teamed up with Raymond Pettibon for a two man exhibit at the Pomona College Museum of Art. Billed as an exploration of "the tensions, congruencies, and associations of image and text," the collaborative works on display at Pomona College consist of new drawings and prints. Pettibon is well known for having designed album covers and flyers for Black Flag, one of L.A.’s most aggressively nihilistic early punk bands. We both worked as artists in L.A.’s nascent punk rock scene, but Pettibon went on to refashion himself into a postmodernist art star, raking in accolades, awards, major exhibitions, and a few million dollars along the way. I’m still waiting for my State Department appointment and an invitation to work with Ed Ruscha.

I’ve had the dubious honor of exhibiting works with Pettibon, once at the 2003 Art of Punk exhibit at L.A.’s Kantor Gallery, and also in 2004 at L.A.’s Autry National Center. But my "fondest" memory of him comes from attending a riotous punk concert in some dark, dank Hollywood venue back in 1980. I don’t remember who was playing, but Pettibon was on the crowded stage horsing around with band members. In a brief lull between songs someone on the stage threw a beer bottle - it arched across the hall and exploded on a wall just inches from my girlfriend’s head. I was fuming mad, yelling insults and bent on reprisal, but as people held me back I could see Pettibon step to the front of the stage, bending over to moon me and the entire audience. That is how I shall forever remember Raymond Pettibon.

Carpenter wins Turner Prize

[ "Shedboatshed" by Simon Starling. Mediocre carpentry, lack of vision,
and too much gin. ]

This year’s prestigious Turner Prize for artistic achievement was awarded to Simon Starling, who successfully dismantled a rotten old wood boat shed he found located on a river bank, constructed its pieces into a boat in which he sailed down the river - and then reconstructed the boat back into a shed. Starling, who fancies himself an "Installation artist," claims his Shedboatshed is "the physical manifestation of a thought process." On Monday January 5th, 2006, the London Tate Britain acknowledged the artistic genius and his masterpiece, presenting Starling with its highest prize - and a check for $43,000.

This might indicate progress for the Tate, who last year awarded their 2004 prize to Jeremy Deller, an "artist" who admits not being able to draw or paint. Deller won the Turner Prize for a video he made documenting his travels in Texas - while at least Starling actually crafted something with his hands. Since the Tate judges have mistaken an amateur video film maker and a hobbyist carpenter for professional artists, it makes me wonder if perhaps the judges have been indulging a bit too much in the product manufactured by the official sponsors of the Turner Prize - Gordon’s Gin.

Writing for The Guardian, Stuart Jeffries asked Starling, "Is what you make art?" The Turner Prize winner responded with, "Maybe it isn’t… it’s art because I trained as an artist." So then, the only difference between Starling and the men who recently re-roofed my house is the lack of formal arts training possessed by the construction workers? If they only had such training they could couple it with a sense of visionary hucksterism, submit their Roof Re-roof construction job to the besotted judges at the Tate, and then enjoy new careers as installation artists. Apparently it doesn’t take much to impress the gaggle of gin-soaked postmodernists at the Tate, who praised Starling for his "unique ability to create poetic narratives which draw together a wide range of cultural, political and historical narratives."

Meanwhile, in the reality based arts community, the Stuckists held a demonstration outside the award proceedings to protest the sham. The Times of London quoted Charles Thomson, co-founder of the Stuckist movement, as saying; "There are plenty of hobbyists happily occupying themselves in the garden shed doing equally ingenious but ultimately futile enterprises, building Canterbury Cathedral out of matchsticks for example. It’s the sort of thing I had to do when I was in the Scouts. Starling should get his Craft Badge, first class, but not the Turner Prize."

The Tate Rave!

The Tate Britain website allows users to "create" and name their own art collections from among the online art works the museum has on display. Users are invited to compile their own personalized collections, which are then displayed on the Tate website. Some clever Stuckist saboteur made proper use of this invite by uploading a sarcastic critique at the Tate's expense. The Stuckist mischief has to do with the Tate purchasing for a hefty sum, an artwork from postmodernist artist Chris Ofili. The controversy lies in the fact that Ofili is also a trustee of the Tate, and at the time of the Tate’s acquisition of his art work - was urging other professional artists to donate their works to the museum for free.

Alluding to the controversy surrounding the Tate, the Stuckist prankster name a satirical collection, The Expensive Work of a Serving Trustee Collection, and left the following question as a caption; "Which of the 6 is the expensive work bought from serving Tate trustee Chris Ofili while he was urging other artists to donate their work to the Tate?" The mocking question is accompanied by six images from the Tate collection - five of them classic oil paintings by renowned masters, and one excrement covered painting by Chris Ofili. I wonder how long it will be before the Tate notices and removes the offending Stuckist gag. If you’re quick you may get to see the stunt before the censors take it down!

Meanwhile, Charlotte Higgins, arts correspondent for The Guardian newspaper of London, wrote a September 12th article for the paper titled, Taking the Tate into the Future. After reading Higgin’s piece the first thing that came to my mind was the chilling NO FUTURE refrain from a certain Sex Pistols song. A glowing account of the Tate Modern’s sorry current direction, the article was full of praise for its present director, Sir Nicholas Serota - referred to as "the undisputed titan of British art." It should go without saying the story did not mention the Chris Ofili debacle.

Higgins mentions that Serota "plans a radical unseating of painting and sculpture from the positions as the ‘king and queen’ of art," and quotes the director as saying the Tate will be remade to present "graphics, film, photography and performance." Frankly I’m troubled by Serota’s ideas concerning what an art museum should be. Higgins quotes him as saying "Artists are reflecting on the culture around them - club culture, or whatever it is - and the institution needs to reflect that in the way it shows, presents and buys art." Excuse me but, the Ofili affair was enough of an outrage, a shady example of how the Tate "buys" art. Now we are expected to accept a museum being filled with artifacts representing "club culture." Supposedly this will make the Tate a living, relevant institution. Why not just pack up the art works, put them in storage, and open the Tate Rave? Considering how the museum is currently being run - that may not be such a bad idea.

A Minor Footnote In History

Thanks to the prevailing postmodern idiocy that rules the world of art, I sometimes hesitate to tell people that I’m an artist. What might they think? That I create paintings like "performance artist", Keith Boadwee, who squats over his canvases and "paints" by emptying his bowels of egg tempura enemas? In 1995, Ace Contemporary Exhibitions of Los Angeles presented a series of 50 such paintings by Boadwee, which included a video documentation of the process as part of the exhibit. In addition, Boadwee employed projectile vomiting of tempura paint to create his artworks. He was also graced with an exhibit at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), not for his enema paintings, but for his self-portraits. The MOCA exhibit consisted of stylized pictures of Boadwee’s anus in multiple colors from which various objects protruded. I don’t mean to pick on Boadwee, I have no personal animosity towards him. I mention him only because his example abundantly illustrates the sham that is modern art. A hand in glove relationship between snobbish art critics, morally impoverished collectors and intellectually corrupt museum and gallery staff, have not just assured such garbage a place in the art world - they have transformed the rubbish into a new standard of excellence.

In steps the latest postmodernist outrage. The aforementioned high and mighty effete critics have lately been touting the young "rebels" of the contemporary Chinese art scene. These "hot" new artists are being feted by museums and galleries across the world, and snatched up left and right by avaricious collectors. One such discerning fellow is Uli Sigg, a multi-millionaire businessman and former Swiss diplomat who has amassed what some have called "an unrivalled range of contemporary Chinese art." Sigg purchased an "artwork" by Xiao Yu several years ago at the Venice Biennale, and recently loaned the coveted masterwork to the Bern Museum of Fine Art in Switzerland. It is one of three hundred or so works from Sigg’s personal collection to be presented at the Bern in an exhibit of contemporary Chinese art running until October 16th, 2005.

The Bern Museum, Mr. Sigg, and the fawning art critics were apparently flabbergasted when Xiao Yu’s "artwork" was met by howls of outrage from angry museum goers. A flood of calls from incensed patrons shocked the Bern, but it was the threat of legal action that sent them scattering. A 29-year-old Swiss visitor to the exhibit filed a complaint with the authorities against the museum for "disturbing the peace of the dead." The furious uproar combined with the possibility of a court case, caused the museum to remove the offending "artwork" from the exhibition. Bernard Fibicher, curator at the Bern, released a short statement that in part read, "We have decided to withdraw this work from the exhibition because we are no longer able to handle the amount of interest it is generating."

What caused so much controversy? Xiao Yu had sewn the head of a human fetus to the headless body of a dead seagull - placing the monstrosity into a clear viewing container filled with formaldehyde. The museum catalog thoughtfully explained the work of genius was meant to "provoke the viewer into reflecting on the absurdity of life." In actually it only provoked viewers to reflect upon the absurdity and utter madness of the contemporary art world - where the most vulgar and boorish acts of self-promotion, or the most outlandish eyesores will be elevated to fine art. There are some art critics who will defend this twisted taxidermy from a demented individual, but their days are numbered. The ossified art establishment is crumbling, and soon its jesters and speculators will become a minor footnote in history.

Art: Obey Your Thirst

American conceptual artist, Wayne Hill, had his artwork stolen and drunk. His piece - a clear plastic bottle filled with water and situated on a pedestal, was priced at $69,700 (£40,000). Shown at an arts festival in Devon, England, the work was apparently misidentified by some thirsty person as being - a clear plastic bottle filled with water situated on pedestal. Mr. Hill’s artwork had the implausible title of Weapon of Mass Destruction, and he claims the clear plastic bottle was filled with melted ice from Antarctica. Hill alleges his artwork took a year to create, and that its function was to confront people with the quickly thinning Antarctic ice sheet. "The concept is to take something as dangerous as that and to bring it immediately into somebody’s presence", he said. According to Hill, his Object d’ Art was earning quite a reputation, and it was scheduled for other exhibitions later in the year, that is… until some parched character gulped it down. It’s a shame really, that people can’t tell the difference between an ordinary bottle of water and a bottle of water that’s been elevated to high-art. That being the case, Hill might as well continue his sham by visiting a local convenience store to pick up another clear plastic water bottle. But he better hurry, the weather’s been rather warm, and the art may be out of stock.

The Downward Spiral

Does art have actual social worth and significance, or is it just another commodity to be bought and sold by the wealthy? My beliefs place me in the former camp, as I loath the very idea that something as magical, spiritual and ephemeral as art - could or should be controlled, influenced or marginalized by market forces. However, there are many who hold a contrary point of view. To such people artworks are simply good investments that enhance one’s social status. The clash of these two perspectives creates just one of the many frameworks where all art is made political.

In the trendy art world of today, Art Basel Switzerland is the epitome of the art as commodity camp. Celebrating its 36th year, the international art fair concluded on June 20th, 2005, after exhibiting works by 3,000 artists from more than 800 galleries. Like a swarm of locust, over 50,000 collectors, dealers, and curators descended upon the medieval city of Basel in a feeding frenzy of acquisition and deal making. Clearly driven by greed, buyers were desperate to purchase works from the next crop of "art stars" while prices were still low. Innumerable sales were made just hours after the fair opened, with entire bodies of work snatched up by avaricious collectors. And what did these movers and shakers in the art world spend their money on?

Well, one of the most sought after works was by video artist, Mark Wallinger. This leading light in new media created a video titled, Sleeper, which is nothing more than the artist wondering around the empty galleries of Germany’s Neue Nationalgalerie at night dressed in a bear suite. Someone lacking judgment has actually priced this work of genius at $100,000 and it’s being held off the market so that it can be included in a museum collection. Then there was The Lovers, the latest video wall installation from superstar Bill Viola. The video merely displays two people embracing in a torrent of water, but it sells for $180,000. However, Mr. Viola’s work comes in an "edition" of twelve, each going for the aforementioned price. The grueling and labor intensive process of duplicating his magnum opus by pressing the record button on the video machine must have been awfully demanding work.

However, nothing quite compared to the masterwork created by Gianni Motti, whose grand artwork become the focus of the art fair; receiving international attention; selling to a collector for a hefty price; and assuring the artist a place in the pantheon of immortals. Motti’s artwork… a bar of soap, was mounted on black velour under a square Plexiglas shield where it was stared at by art lovers and photographed by hordes of paparazzi. The extraordinary little bar of soap sold for 15,000 Euros, or $18,000. The artist alleges the bar of soap was rendered from Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi’s liposuctioned fat, but he offers absolutely no evidence to verify his claim. Whether Motti can prove his assertion or not still leaves us with an act of crude hucksterism perpetrated in the name of art - which pretty much sums up the general theme presented at Art Basel Switzerland.

Also in late June, at the prestigious London auction house of Bonhams, the art world continued its downward spiral when a painting by a chimpanzee was snapped up for $26,250. It should come as no surprise that the artwork by Congo the chimp fetched more money than works by lesser artists also on the auction block… artists like Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Fernand Leger, and Andy Warhol. The primate’s painting was snatched up by Howard Hong, an American collector who describes himself as an "enthusiast of modern and contemporary painting." Mr. Hong was prepared to pay up to $50,000 for the chimpanzee masterpiece - which he compared to the early work of Kandinsky. The savvy art collector disclosed he was motivated to purchase the simian tour de force, because in his words, Congo was "the ultimate chimp of the art world." But I think that might be a title best shared by a number of artists, collectors, curators, and critics in the realm of contemporary art.

The Biennale: “Dearth in Venice”

The 51st Venice Biennale opened on June 12th, 2005, and artists, patrons, curators, collectors and the general public will view the latest in contemporary art until the festival closes in November. It’s been said that this biennale has abandoned the display of gimmicky artworks designed to shock in favor of more subdued statements, and that this year’s festival is a triumph for women - but I see little evidence of these allegations. It has been asserted that this biennale is less political than previous ones, even as Bush’s State Department appointed Ed Ruscha as America’s “official representative”. While it’s true that not a single artist bothered to make even a token statement on the inferno that is the Iraq war… real world politics were made manifest in other ways.

Having visited Venice I can attest to the beauty of this metropolis built upon the sea. The richness of the city’s Byzantine and Renaissance architectural styles is overwhelming, and its hundreds of palaces, churches and public buildings present the works of the matchless Venetian school of painters. The artists of Venice helped to establish oil paint as a medium in artistic production, and as I strolled through the city’s ancient galleries gazing upon master works by Giovanni Bellini, Jacapo Tintoretto and Titian I was left with the impression that the city well represents the highest achievements of Western art. Which is part of my displeasure at seeing the former bastion of the renaissance transformed into a roosting place for flocks of wealthy art patrons, dealers, and other buzzards looking for the latest postmodern “masterpiece” to add to their collections. My feelings regarding the biennale are shared by Guardian art critic, Jonathan Jones, who eloquently tells the tale of woe in his piece entitled, Dearth in Venice. The Venice Biennale has more resemblance to a gated community for art snobs than a true public celebration of art.

The kingpin of that gated community would have to be Paul Allen, the co-founder of Microsoft. Allen moored his yacht off of Venice’s famous Grand Canal along with the numerous yachts belonging to his fellow fat cats. But at 413-feet-long and equipped with a screening room, swimming pool, an art gallery housing his private collection, and a helicopter, Allen’s colossal yacht dwarfed not only the tiny picturesque gondolas - but the yachts of the other captains of industry as well. Allen’s private cruiser is aptly named The Octopus, and its tentacles reach around the world. While Mr. Allen whooped it up with his billionaire buddies at the biennale, Microsoft launched a new China-based Internet portal in Beiijing. A collaborative project with the authoritarian regime, MSN’s system bars people from using the following words in its search engine… “democracy”, “freedom”, “human rights”, “demonstration” and “Taiwan Independence.” The money made from this contemptible deal will no doubt help Mr. Allen snatch up some hot new art at the biennale - or at least make it possible for him to obtain another yacht. The ostentatious flaunting of wealth seems to be the spirit of the Venice Biennale, and one of the first things visitors see when entering the grounds are banners from American artist Barbara Kruger, which read “Money”, “Power”, and “You make history when you do business.” The sad thing about Kruger’s postmodernist diktats in the context of this particular setting, is that they have absolutely no sense of irony, sarcasm or even humor. They have no power in the land of the money bags. They are more confirmation than critique.

As I’ve already noted, the 51st Venice Biennale is being touted as a breakthrough for women, and those who make this assertion point to the Spanish curators Maria de Corral and Rosa Martinez, who are the first women to have ever organized the event in its 110-year history. That they filled the curatorial positions of this most vaunted festival is notable - but a breakthrough? They recommended that the aforementioned Barbara Kruger receive a Golden Lion Lifetime Achievement award for her contentious photomontage works, but what else is there to show for their appointment? We are offered an installation by American artist Jennifer Allora that features a life-sized realistic hippopotamus made of mud, upon which a real woman sits and reads while occasionally whistling. There’s the conceptual art of Portugese artist, Joana Vasconcelos, who created a chandelier made of tampons entitled The Bride.

And last but not least, the Guerilla Girls exhibited their so-called pop art posters, one of which is pure text and reads "Less than three percent of artists in the modern art sections are women, but 83 percent of the nudes are female." Now that’s fine as an agitational slogan designed to advance the cause of feminism (which I’m all for), but it’s lousy art. The Birth of Feminism poster from the Guerilla Girls looks like any other advertisement for the latest inane Hollywood jiggle fest, except we are to believe that this particular poster carries with it a subversive feminist subtext. The Guerilla Girls are most likely elated over having succeeded at turning a monotonous advertising agency style poster into "high art"… but how a Photoshop manipulated image of scantily clad bikini bimbos advances feminism or qualifies as fine art escapes me. I’ll take Mary Cassatt or Frida Kahlo over the Guerilla Girls any time. Aside from these few examples, the curators exercised caution in pushing a feminine perspective - so much for the great advances of women artists.

Suffice it to say, the Venice Biennale places great attention on conceptual and installation works, with traditional painting given only marginal consideration. Commenting on the event, Glenn D. Lowry, director of the Museum of Modern Art, was quoted in the New York Times as saying "The art world is in a transitional moment, with so many new people coming in to it, it all hasn’t settled yet." Which I suppose is the polite way of saying the art world is out of control, makes no sense, and is in a complete state of disarray and chaos. I’ve always maintained that great art springs from chaotic times... but you’ll have to look beyond the pavilions of the Venice Biennale to find it.

Today’s Painting: Reaction or Revolution?

[ Postmodernist artists have nothing to say… and they will find the most annoyingly bothersome ways not to say it. As a figurative painter with a firm commitment to a new social realism, I’ve long opposed the stranglehold of postmodernism and its attendant philosophy which asserts anything can be art. This way of thinking arrogantly proclaims painting to be dead - and craft, beauty and meaning in art to be obsolete. Painting we are told, is from a bygone era, out of vogue and irrelevant in today's context, - while conceptual, performance, installation and video artworks receive ceaseless endorsements from art world elites and their sycophants. Centuries of art discipline, practice, and knowledge have simply been judged passé and discarded. Moreover, the reign of postmodern art has effectively stripped artists of their ability to communicate with a mass audience on any meaningful level, reducing the power of art to an incomprehensible babble. No matter how much postmodernist David Byrne may extol the presentation software PowerPoint as the new artistic medium for the 21st century… I still prefer the warmth, sensuality, directness and humanity of a good oil painting.

The vaunted Tate Museum of Britain is one institution that has contributed heavily to the buttressing of postmodern shock art. Its prestigious Turner Prize is bestowed annually to the winner of a competition where only the most "gifted" artists participate. The winner receives 25,000 pounds ($45,000), and the award is a great distinction for artists working in the UK. More importantly, the event helps to set international trends in the art world. Past recipients have included: Chris Ofili (1998), who won for his elephant dung paintings; Martin Creed (2001), who won for simply manipulating the museum's light fixtures to go on an off in an empty gallery room; and Damien Hirst (1995), who won for pickling a large shark in formaldehyde. Last year's 2004 winner, Jeremy Deller, was given the award for his video installation Memory Bucket, a documentation of Deller's travels through George W. Bush's home state of Texas. Deller admitted that he can't draw or paint… which of course made him the perfect candidate for Britain's greatest art prize. In the last five years, not a single painter has been chosen to participate in the competition. Ironically, the Turner prize is named after one of Britain’s most famous painters, the Romantic landscape artist, J.M.W. Turner (1775-1851).


Given the recent history of the Turner prize, and the quality of candidates placed on the "shortlist" as competitors, it was a surprise to receive the announcement that on June 2nd, Gillian Carnegie was nominated for the 2005 Turner Prize. Known for her traditional style oil landscapes, still lifes and portraiture, she is the first painter to have been allowed entry into the competition in some years. Carnegie's painting, Fleurs de huile (shown here - oil on board, dated 2001), will be one of the artist's works to be shown in the Turner competition. This seems to indicate a change in direction for the elite art world… but what direction? For years the Stuckist art group in London has engaged in aggressive campaigning against the excesses of the contemporary art world. They’ve held demonstrations outside the Tate Gallery at each of the last six Turner prize events, denouncing the winning artists as frauds. After reading the Stuckist Manifestos you’ll understand why the postmodernist screed that "there are no more art movements" is a lie. Having befriended Charles Thomson, the co-founder of the Stuckist movement, I sought his opinion regarding the nomination of Carnegie for the Turner. What follows is Thomson’s opinion piece written exclusively for my web log, titled Stuckism and the Revival of Painting in the Art Establishment. ]

“Six years ago, in January 1999, I launched the Stuckists group with Billy Childish (who has since left), inviting 11 other artists to join us. Since then we have written ten manifestos, staged dozens of shows, put forward a candidate in the General Election, reported Charles Saatchi to the Office of Fair Trading, given innumerable quotes to the media, been featured internationally in newspapers and on radio and television, grown into a worldwide movement of over 114 companion groups in 29 countries, and, last but not least, demonstrated for six consecutive years (initially in clown costume) on the steps of the Tate Gallery against the Turner Prize. For me there was one major catalyst to start such an enterprise, namely the marginalisation of painting as an art form in an art world dominated by an entrenched, multi-million pound, self-serving, elitist establishment of collectors, critics, curators, gallerists and artists, whose values (if one can call them that) were based on the vacuous practice generally termed ‘conceptual art’, which is striking for its lack of concepts and its contempt for artistic values. Its contemporary figurehead was ‘Brit Art’. It was also connected with ‘Brit Pop’, ‘Cool Britannia’ and some kind of sense that this country was rather more important than it really is (Iraq has demonstrated quite clearly which country is the important one). Thus in some curious way, even people who were instinctively averse to Brit Art’s penchant for dead sheep and embroidered tents, accorded it some unspoken respect as waving the flag.

The Stuckists didn’t. We rechristened it ‘Brit shit’, and declared not only was painting the radical way forward in art today, but conceptualism wasn’t even art in the first place. The reaction was severe. Mostly those we censured exercised considerable effort (and at times censorship) to pretend we didn’t exist – and when comment came, publicly or more often privately, we were seen as out of touch, hopelessly naïve, reactionary and a lost cause with ludicrous ideas that were going nowhere. Six years later, Charles Saatchi, the Emperor of Brit Art, has promoted (albeit unwittingly – and dropped her as soon as he found out) an ex Stuckist as his new art star, and launched The Triumph of Painting, declaring – with the actual word we had previously employed ourselves – that painting was the most ‘vital’ art form (NB not equally, but most). Damien Hirst is (or at least his assistants are) painting pictures. Tracey Emin is painting pictures (having previously destroyed all her paintings). And contrary to all expectations, this year’s Turner Prize includes a bog standard ‘traditional’ painter (though the Tate is still trying, against all common sense, to claim she is somehow ‘questioning’ the medium to spare their blushes).

The art world has gone topsy-turvy. It is in fact adopting the Stuckist position which opposed it so vehemently and which it so contemptuously rejected about two minutes previously. In an even more consummate sleight-of-hand, it has moved into this position without the slightest acknowledgement that its leaders are not leading at all, but running breathlessly behind. The Stuckists are still being ignored – for the opposite reason to before – not now because the Stuckist ethos is against the art establishment ethos, but because the Stuckist ethos is the only one left to the art establishment to find a way of moving forward. It is not an easy trick to acknowledge the existence of the Stuckists without also being forced to acknowledge that we were right all along.

It may come as a surprise that this is no surprise. We predicted it six years ago, and Billy Childish in particular was emphatic that this was exactly what would happen. But Stuckism has already moved on, and the art establishment, equally predictably, has only got a bastardized assimilation of it. To promote painting against conceptualism is a clear and easy message to make, and one that suits the black and white confrontational nature of mass media sound-bite mentality. We were always aware (though mostly it seemed others were not aware that we were aware) that ‘painting’ in itself is no answer. Saatchi’s Triumph of Painting, with its mostly gross and superficial imagery, proves this conclusively and ought to be retitled The Lack of Triumph of Crap Painting. Painting is a visual language. In itself the language is meaningless. It is only its employment for meaningful communication that validates its use. The next stage is not the triumph of painting per se. It can only be the triumph of worthwhile and meaningful painting. Ironically it can only be the triumph of painting which is anchored in a powerful conceptual structure – albeit allied with a genuine emotional engagement. Painting that does not derive from this amalgam is as useless and transient as the throwaway art which it is now purporting to supercede. That, I am afraid, is why I am more dismayed by the new status of painting than I was by the dominance of conceptualism. At least before, the demarcation was clear, and the issues apparent. Now they are being blurred in a way which allows the current art establishment its favourite resource, namely missing the point completely.

To put an academic painting derived from worn-out and clichéd ideas into a supposedly radical prize is so absurd that we might take it as a huge joke, did we not know the deadly seriousness that pervades the offices of the Tate. It is of course radical within the confines of the Turner Prize, but if that is really the parameter that prevails, then I am rendered speechless by such a narrow vista. Beyond the Pimlico enclave, such paintings are two a penny, and, furthermore, done with more accomplishment in the genre by many people. This is not the way forward for painting. It is truly reactionary. It is in as rarefied a world as the specious novelties it is beginning to replace. It has no life. It has no ideas. It has no emotion, daring or perception. It is truly stuck.”

The “Art” of Vandalism

On this web log I often rebuke the excesses of postmodernist artists, excoriate the state of modern-day art, and berate the apolitical intellectuals and art critics who justify and praise every inane and dim-witted act carried out in the name of art. It seems that almost every day we read about yet another imbecile whose “artworks” exemplify the utter bankruptcy of contemporary art, like UK “performance artist” Mark McGowan. This self-serving and narcissistic charlatan has already received more than enough attention in the press, and I only mention his name here as a challenge to those proponents of the “art for arts sake” philosophy. Advocates and practitioners of performance, installation, and conceptual art disciplines should take some responsibility for having brought us to this point, because if they truly believe that “anything can be art” -then they must defend the likes of Mark McGowan.

McGowan, 38, will be exhibiting his latest “work” at a gallery in Glasgow. The exhibit will consist of a series of photographs that document his having vandalized 50 cars in London and Glasgow. McGowan roamed the streets and with key in hand, scratched the paint off of parked cars picked at random. An assistant photographed each car being “keyed”. The so-called artist said the owners should be happy they were part of his “creative process” and that “there is a strong creative element in the keying of a car, it's an emotive engagement.” McGowan expressed his desire that keying be embraced by other artists... who could make the act “as mainstream as graffiti.” The police said they consider McGowan's acts to be criminal damage, and they'll investigate the matter if allegations are made by the vehicle owners. McGowan will no doubt be pleased to have criminal charges leveled against him, as it will once again place him in the limelight. Already McGowan is claiming to be the victim of censorship, and there is confusion over which venue will present his exhibition -which could more accurately be described as a display of evidence. It seems the exhibit was originally scheduled for The Arches gallery in Glasgow, but they’ve apparently back out. McGowan said “If they don’t show my work, that is blatant censorship!” A spokesperson for the gallery said: “The Arches will not condone the exhibiting of one photograph where a piece of private property has been damaged against the owner’s will.” A spokesperson for the Glasgow International Festival said the Wasps Artist’s Studios would be showing the exhibit -but no one at Wasps would confirm this.

McGowan, a postgraduate in the history of art from the prestigious Goldsmiths University of London, is no stranger to the contemporary art world. He's well known for his performance art... like his pushing a peanut with his nose for seven miles to 10 Downing Street to protest student debt. In the window of a gallery in south London, he once sat for 12 days in a bathtub filled with backed beans, sausages wrapped around his head and fried potatoes stuck up his nose - in a performance piece that celebrated English food. However, I think his very best performance piece was when he literally nailed his feet to an art gallery floor... it's just too bad someone pried him loose. [ UPDATE: On April 20th, McGowan told the press the whole thing was a hoax, and that his photos of the "keyed" cars were staged. Whether this admission was from fear of arrest or not remains to be seen. However, the fraudulent nature of some contemporary art, and the gullibility of art critics and aficionados remains. Ever feel like you’ve been cheated? The swindle continues... and all is right with the world! ]

The Art of Hypocrisy

So-called performance “artist” Chris Burden has built a prosperous career for himself based on controversy and the limitless gullibility of the official art world. In 1971 Burden arranged a publicity stunt at the F Space Gallery in Santa Ana California and called it art. His exploit, titled Shoot, consisted of being shot in the right arm at close range by an assistant firing a .22 caliber rifle. A proliferation of similarly meaningless performances followed, transforming Burden into the darling of the bourgeois conceptual art crowd. His escapades ultimately landed him a professorship at UCLA in 1978, a position that paid an annual salary of $128,300. Burden headed the “new genres” program at the university, instructing students in performance, installation, and video art… but a bizarre event at the ivory tower art department last year lead the professor to hastily resign his position. In November 2004, a graduate student used a gun during an on campus “performance art” piece. No doubt inspired by the master (who was not present), the student produced a revolver while standing before his terrified class, loaded a bullet into the cylinder, spun it, put the gun to his temple, and pulled the trigger. The gun did not fire. The budding artist, who undoubtedly will someday have his own professorship, swiftly left the classroom. Campus and police officials have since concluded that there was “insufficient evidence” to bring criminal charges against the… ahem, artist. The university’s dean of students’ office is still considering disciplinary actions against the student… which has caused other art department students to wail over a crackdown on "freedom of expression". Such is the state of art in America. Hypocritically, professor Burden was miffed over the university’s failure to expel the gun brandishing student. Having himself opened the Pandora’s box of nihilistic performance art, the professor now lays blame on a student devotee. Rather than take full responsibility for the demons he let loose upon the world, the disingenuous Burden accused the pupil of engaging in “domestic terrorism”, and then submitted his retirement paperwork on Dec. 20th during winter break. What a great loss for academia… perhaps I should apply for the open position?

The Gates: Good For Nothing

I first became aware of the works of Christo in 1972 while reading, Towards Revolutionary Art (TRA), a small left-wing arts journal from San Francisco. TRA had published a caustic attack upon Christo for his Valley Curtain project (pictured above), a huge barrier of orange nylon fabric hung in Rifle Gap, Colorado. TRA’s fierce diatribe savaged Christo for his “$700,000 exhibitionist publicity stunt sanctified under the name of art.” Moreover, the journal excoriated art critics for promoting “the mystification of art so as to help prop up the capitalist art world along with its flock of degenerate groupies and rich speculators - and in the process keep art and aesthetic expression monopolized and out of the reach of masses of working people.” While TRA ceased operations long ago, the Bulgaria-born Christo and his French-born partner, Jeanne-Claude (who together insist on speaking to the press in one voice), have continued to orchestrate their site specific mass spectacles. Over the years they’ve undertaken projects like the complete wrapping of the Berlin Reichstag in aluminum-fabric, and the wrapping of the Pont Neuf, France’s oldest standing bridge, with white cloth. But before you write off TRA’s tirade as neo-Marxist gibberish, consider what Christo himself has to say about his latest project, "The Gates, we don't do it for the people, we do it for us.” Jeanne-Claude was equally blunt, “We do not create messages. We do not create symbols. We create works of art. All works of art are good for nothing.’’ The pair divulged their good for nothing project “would cost less than $21 million dollars.” The Gates project consists of 7,500 gate-like structures that are 16 feet high and hung with long flowing panels of saffron-colored nylon fabric. Now under construction, the gates will run along 23 miles of walkways through New York’s Central Park. On February 12th, the fabric panels will be unfurled and on view for only 16 days before the gates are completely removed.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude say the tens of millions of dollars funding their project comes from the sale of preliminary sketches and collages (which sell at $30,000 to $600,000 each). They assert "We're not rich people. We spend everything we have and everything we can borrow from the bank and get no money back." But this seems more than a little disingenuous to me, especially since they’ve been seen driving around New York in a Maybach (a car that sells for around $357,000).

I’m sure the two will garner much positive attention from the press and the art establishment, so my opinion is likely to appear as heretical doctrine. The Christian Science Monitor in its glowing praise of the project, exclaimed “when war and natural disaster saturate the news, it’s easy to forget that beauty can still be found.” Excluding the Monitor, who has overlooked beauty? Forgive me for saying so, but in order to recognize beauty must we also forget about human suffering? No doubt the war wounded of Iraq and the Tsunami victims of Southeast Asia will be perplexed to hear about the $21 million dollar display of ephemeral installation art… it’s bewildering to me as well. Furthermore, while Christo and Jeanne-Claude received a city permit to grace Central Park with a mass installation that bears no message and in the words of the artists is “good for nothing” - it is worth noting that last August the city denied a park permit to hundreds of thousands of anti-war demonstrators during the Republican National Convention.

But then, there are two types of artists. Those like myself who possess a social consciousness, and those like Christo and Jeanne-Claude, whose self-serving and haughty attitude reveals contempt for the human race. If this web log falls silent for the next few days you may assume that I’ve been trapped inside my home by zealous followers of Christo, and that they’ve wrapped my dwelling in saffron-colored nylon fabric in an attempt to intimidate me. In that event I’ll take advantage of the isolation to stand by my easel and begin some new paintings… artworks that will be good for something.

Aztec Art - Roots of Modernism

I’ve been studying Aztec art for decades. Many artists active in or familiar with the Chicano arts movement of America’s Southwestern states have appreciated the blunt figurative style and bold colors of the Aztecs. As African art influenced European artists to establish cubism, so too has Aztec art given inspiration to Chicano painters and print makers from the late 60’s to the present. Currently artists and art enthusiasts around the world are discovering the staggering grandeur created by the indigenous of Mexico over 500 years ago. In 2002, the Royal Academy of Arts in Great Britain presented Aztecs, an exhibition of art and artifacts visited by over 465,000 people, making it one of the most popular exhibits in the Academy’s history. Now the Guggenheim Museum in New York Ciy presents, The Aztec Empire, a major exhibition running until February 13th, 2005. With over 435 works in stone, ceramic and precious metals from private and public collections, the show is an essential look at the art and culture of the Aztecs. Guggenheim Museum director Thomas Krens felt it important "to visit past cultures in which modern art has its roots in order to examine the context from which today's art has emerged." Beautifully stated... and a remark not to be overlooked. Working artists everywhere should study and embrace the overwhelming aesthetic accomplishments of Mexico’s original inhabitants. The Guggenheim maintains a terrific website for The Aztec Empire exhibition.