In my studio (Photo by Martine Bisagni)
The difference between being a complainer (who wants that reputation?) and being a precise observer can sometimes be a fine line. I may be grazing close to the edge of grousing by sharing excerpts from two articles by art critic Karen Wright of The Independent. But they are worthy of note, and of discussion.
The first is from Wright’s reivew of the PST mega show in LA last fall (which I wrote about extensively here last November):
The artist John Baldessari is grumpy, or perhaps just tired. He has been dealing with the press, having received massive attention recently as the most included artist (in 11 shows) in the multi-show extravaganza known as Pacific Standard Time: Art in LA, 1945-1980…
When I asked his opinion of the show he said it was “BM” – “before money” – and that, in fact, all art in LA in Pacific Standard Time, and particularly at MoCA, could be defined this way. “BM” – that is, before artists had money. I entered the cavernous space with his words ringing in my ears. The last time I was here I saw a Takashi Murakami show, and the contrasts between Murakami’s work and Under the Big Black Sun: California Art 1974-1981 could not be more apparent.
Murakami’s mirror-like surfaces speak of money and of the factory. The shimmering surfaces are carefully polished, to remove any trace of the artist or indeed his many assistants’ hands. Tonight, these have given way to the simple objects and hand-worked surfaces of a group of artists, many of whom were deeply engaged with political or gender themes. We are talking about the height of feminism and race issues and the end of the Vietnam War, after all.
The second is from Wright’s short account of her studio visit with the painter Jock McFadyen:
Jock McFadyen’s East End studio is infused with the heady perfume of paint and turps. Painting, now seemingly the least fashionable of arts, is literally getting up my nose here. When I ask McFadyen if he minds practising the art form seemingly not at the forefront of chic curating, his defence is instantaneous and robust: “The great thing about painting is that it’s not fashionable.”
I ask if he always wanted to be an artist, and his response illuminates the current divide in art. “I don’t want to be an artist. I want to be a painter. The man in the street might think you make art out of dirt and string. It is embarrassing to be an artist.”
I’m with you Jock.
Nothing can replace the hand of the artist – whether that artist works in paint or in dirt and string.
Yes I agree, Whether it is paint or dirt and string, what matters in art transcends materials.
But part of why that quote spoke to me is that there are connotations and nuances that come with terms, and dealing with those matters. Here’s a question for you: how do you answer the cocktail party question, what do you do?I have always answered that without using the A word. To say, “I’m a painter” feels very different than to say “I’m an artist.” The term artist is full of difficulties, some of them accurate and some not. But over the years I have found it easier to just steer clear of it altogether.
Of course you/I could always say “I make art” or just avoid cocktail parties. There is no easy answer to the question because you are right that it is loaded. I even had someone ask me, “What’s a visual artist?” You can imagine that my reply didn’t go very deep.
I particularly like the “avoid cocktail parties” approach! Which in general I do. Thanks Nancy, always good to banter it out with you.
I generally answer that question by saying, “I write.” Not only does the response focus on what I do, it also prevents confining me.
I don’t see painting as unfashionable at all right now; all the young artists are doing it and it gets tons of press. I’m a big fan of my hand in my work and in the work of others, but I also see work that is expressive and beautiful and is not hand made, such as Anish Kapoor’s sculpture (never mind the entire history of fabricated sculpture; David Smith! Richard Serra!) and quite a lot of video art.
I agree that the word “artist” is very squishy and hard to use; it sounds so darn pretentious, but it’s what people outside the art world understand. I can’t describe myself as solely a painter anymore, so unless I want to go into a list of my media, I have to say artist.
That being said, I don’t like the scream of money in a lot of current art.
Altoon, I think it is interesting that there is plenty of evidence that painting is thriving (Roberta Smith’s recent review of a slew of great painting shows for example.) But there is still that perennial conceit about painting being marginalized. So it is kind of a both/and from where I sit.
Great post and an interesting discussion. Personally, I have to admit to finding it less problematic to describe myself as a painter – it seems somehow more honest, like its a valid job or craft.
I agree Terry on both counts. I have always wanted to be a painter but one who is involved in a “contemporary” discourse. I wanted to be a “serious” artist.
More and more I move away from that, almost rebelling, more and more I admire humble honest painting. When I was in my twenties I met a drunk man in yorkshire who ran a barn that you could rent out in groups. Behind it he had a studio, ramshackle and odd.
He only painted flowers, vases of gorgeous flowers, he told me he was once part of a scene in london but opted out. He was a painter. He painted. I never remebered his name, but I remember him often.
I used to want to be appreciated as both a painter and a contemporary artist who is relevant. I realise now that I have no choice if I want to be authentic I just have to paint and not care what others think. tricky though.
meant to say hi to everyone who commented before me, some really great insights. thank you. This kind of thing helps with a sense of community when alone in the studio!