Simply a Painting of Schrodinger's Cat
I've been on vacation this past week; university worker bees get
a partial spring break. I didn't even try to write any thing for the weblog. This post evolved out of an offhand
conversations with my sister and niece a couple of weeks ago. I was
talking about a claim I read recently, that art historians and art
critics are more responsible for the direction and results of the
course of 20th century art than artists. I threw in a half remembered quote for
literature that 'most critics regard most writers as having the
intellectual capacity of a 2x4.'
This was a slightly troublesome concept for my niece, your
junior-high aged can conceptualize the aspirations and endeavors of
artists and writers well enough. Less easily the idea that some group
can sit back and make a livelihood out of imagining themselves a
steering committee for creative work, understood as trend. I have found
it is possible to slip under a velvet rope and rearrange the objects of a
piece of installation art, without significantly affecting it. I was
simply attempting to confirm that the 'art' of the piece lay elsewhere
than a particular relationship of the objects to each other. It seemed to need its theory. This
conversation probably was triggered by an earlier review of this
book. Art: Art Since 1900: Modernism, Antimodernism, Postmodernism which was reviewed by Frank Whitford in last Sundays London Times. Judging a book by its cover (well, cover title). Double subtitles [note second colon] is often a bad bad sign in a book.
I've followed the celebration of this centuries art as best as I
can over the years. In my younger days I haunted the art museums of
Washington DC and elsewhere every chance I got. They were always a
destination of choice. I treated them like the consciousness raising
temples they are. Temples to what now I'm not exactly sure.
Aesthetics, exultation, a portrait of the sublime, some romantic
antidote to western rationality, a deliberate stream of
unconventionality - non-conformism. A glimpse beyond this shell, or
just of the future, by a visionary avant garde. A shock to the system.
I bought all this (and posters for my college dormroom walls), with all
attendent claims, priviledges and responsiblities artists could lay
claim to. The review in the Times is at counterpoint to the book.
Despite having a slight curmudgen slant it's within its rights when the
reviewer calls on the authors to look as much, as they read if
they are going to write about art. Me, I'm trying to decide whether I
still care enough about art to sit down and read any of this book.
---
Addendum: When I reteurned to work yesterday I went looking to see if I
could find this book . I eventually found it. On a book cart directly
behind my chair at work , wasn't so difficult. It actually looked very
interesting parts of it at least (it is a very big book). Many books -
when you see enough of them - don't look that interesting. I'll
be matching that up to a suitable MARC Bib record (from OcLc) and
sending it along to Tran in our end processing unit, who will in
turn send out to the art library.
11:50:09 PM  ;;
|
|
