I’m basking in Saltzian wisdom. That would be Saltzism as in Jerry Saltz. Yesterday’s posting got me back in the groove, so here’s an excerpt from his “you’re speaking for me, man” book, Seeing Out Loud, Selected Essays: 2003-2007. (An updated version is set for release this September so hold on a few months if you are thinking of purchasing your own copy.)
Having an eye in criticism is as important as having an ear in music. It means discerning the original from the derivative, the inspired from the smart, the remarkable from the common, and not looking at art in narrow, academic, or “objective” ways. It means engaging uncertainty and contingency, suspending disbelief and trying to create a place for doubt, unpredictability, curiosity and openness.
Dishearteningly, many critics have ideas but no eye. They rarely work outside their comfort zone, are always trying to reign art in, turn it into a seminar or a clique, or write cerebral, unreadable texts on mediocre work. There’s nothing wrong with writing about weak art as long as you acknowledge the work’s shortcomings. Seeing as much art as you can is how you learn to see. Listening very carefully to how you see, gauging the levels of perception, perplexity, conjecture, emotional and intellectual response, and psychic effect, is how you learn to see better.
Art is a way of thinking, a way of knowing yourself. Opinions are tools for listening in on your thinking and expanding consciousness. Many writers treat the juiciest part of criticism, judgment, as if it were tainted or beneath them. The most interesting critics make their opinions known. Yet in most reviews there’s no way to know what the writer thinks, or you have to scour the second-to-last paragraph for one negative adjective to detect a hint of disinclination. This is no-risk non-criticism. Being “post-critical” isn’t possible. Everyone is judging all the time. Critics who tell you they’re not judging or that they’re being objective are either lying or delusional. Being critical of art is a way of showing it respect. Being subjective is being human.
Yet people regularly say, ‘You shouldn’t write on things you don’t like.’ This breaks my heart. No one says this to theater critics, film reviewers, restaurant critics, or sports writers. No one says, ‘Just say all the food was good.’ Nowadays, many see criticism mainly as a sales tool or a rah-rah device. Too many critics enthuse over everything they see or merely write descriptively. This sells everyone short and is creating a real disconnect. People report not liking 80 percent of the shows they see, yet 80 percent of reviews are positive or just descriptive.
Obviously, critics can’t just hysterically love or hate things, or assert that certain types of art or media are inherently bad (e.g., no one has actually believed that painting is dead since the Nixon administration, yet writers regularly beat this dead horse). Critics must connect their opinions to a larger set of circumstances; present cogent arguments; show how work does or doesn’t seem relevant, is or isn’t derivative; explain why an artist is or isn’t growing. As with Melville’s ideas about art, criticism should have: ‘Humility — yet pride and scorn / Instinct and study; love and hate / Audacity and reverence.’ Good criticism should be vulnerable, chancy, candid, and nervy. It should give permission, have attitude, maybe a touch of rebellion, never be sanctimonious or dull, and be written in a distinctive, readable way. Good critics should be willing to go on intuition and be unafraid to write from parts of themselves they don’t really know they have.
If criticism is in trouble, as many say, it’s because too many critics write in a dreary hip metaphysical jargon that no one understands except other dreary hip metaphysicians who speak this dead language. They praise everything they see, or only describe. These critics are like the pet owner who sews up the cat to stop it from fouling the sofa: They keep the couch clean but kill the cat.
The way to “develop an eye” is to view as much art as you are able. I’m still working at it. And Saltz is correct in commenting that movie, theater & book critics can be critical, why not art critics?
I think Saltz is my favorite reporter at large in the art world. Makes complete sense.
I think it’s pretty simple. Good criticism should care. Most doesn’t. And I have to say I gave up on reading it 20 years ago or more. Occasionally I’ll read it today but I give up very quickly. Too much dancing around, too much wordy cleverness, and rarely a felt conclusion.
If I had to find one general cause for this I’d say: blame it on irony. For so many, many years critics, and many artists as well, took the ironical view, the distanced but wise, even savvy, view. Of course that’s not really wise or savvy. It’s just safe. If you always speak from an ironic view you can’t be criticized. No one can disagree with you because you didn’t really MEAN it; it was stated ironically.
I can’t tell you the number of people I’ve met who are afraid to have their own ideas and feelings about art. As an aside I think this has permeated much of the culture, not just art. How many newspapers have become wishy-washy, making sure that they always give the other side of any opinion.
As my friend MadSilence has said, quoting Alfred Barr, there are many funiculars to Parnassus. This is true. The danger is that by being afraid to choose one type of art over another, one artist over another, all roads and funiculars lead down to Parnassus, which is now a swamp. In making such choices you of course open yourself to criticism. What if you change your mind 5 years later. I once found both Charlie Mingus and Bela Bartok unlistenable now matter how much I tried. But 5 years later I loved them. So if I’d put those thoughts in writing I would have felt somewhat stupid 5 years later. Nonetheless I at least would have been honest at both times. If you don’t have honesty at the core of criticism it is worthless.
I think good art is strong enough that it can handle both praise and criticism. To fear to use either, to fear to show that you care about art, that’s the great crime.
I’ve vowed not to get myself involved in art criticism and theory because it’s so easy to spend your time on it and not on making art. But I couldn’t resist this one comment. Down with Irony!!
Great comment.
Remember how right after 9/11 there were several headlines like this: The Age of Irony is Now Over. They proved to be premature, since irony returned full force shortly thereafter.
There’s so much to say about what it does, how it undermines, distances, devalues and damages what is often raw, authentic and meaningful and therefore risky.
I feel as if we could fill an ocean on this topic. Thanks for your contribution to a very deep and profound issue.