Fade to black…
Recently, I became aware of the plight of a student who created a painting that included a naked woman as a component of the content. It’s important to note that the painting wasn’t finished.
The student met with the professor teaching the class for an in-process critique. The professor objected to the portrayal of a female nude in the painting, stating that the student was objectifying women and strongly suggesting changes in content. The student reported informing the professor that the painting was not finished and also stating that it was not the student’s intention to objectify women. The student also reported that the professor rejected the student’s reasoning and, especially, the student’s stated intentions. Reportedly, the exchange went on for some time, leaving the student feeling defeated before the painting was even finished. As a result, the student painted over the entire painting with black paint. None of the original content of the painting remained visible—it was simply solid black paint. The student reported wanting to leave the painting completely black, or perhaps to sand certain sections to reveal portions of the content hidden beneath; however, none of the nudity would be revealed if this technique were utilized.
Many things come to mind….
First, I think it would be inappropriate for the student to present the now all-black painting at critique. It smacks of bitterness and anger and would be an unwise and disproportionate reaction. Moreover, I think the strategic sanding in order to reveal certain content, but not other, is ridiculous.
Second, no matter what the professor’s reasoning may have been, I believe that it was inappropriate for the professor to judge the student’s intentionalism for anything other than that which the student stated. Given that both parties understood that the painting was not finished, it was inappropriate for the professor to strongly suggest a change in content to prevent the painting from appearing to the professor as though women were being objectified.
At this point I feel the need to interject a disclaimer: I am not a proponent of the objectification of women. However, I am a card-carrying member of the ACLU (yes, I can produce the card), and as such, I support every First Amendment right to freedom of expression. That said, presuming that the student is telling the truth, the student stated that it was NOT the student’s intention to objectify women; rather, to specifically incorporate a naked female form in the execution of the painting’s content, which was unfinished.
Third, every person who comes in contact with this painting—or any other work of art—is entitled to his or her own interpretive embrace. Every person who comes in contact with this painting—or any other work of art—is entitled to his or her own judgment of its success, including judging the success of the student’s own stated intentionalism. However, prescribing, suggesting, or otherwise enforcing a change in content or subject matter is simply wrong, no matter what the teacher’s social critique or the offense that may be taken. If an individual has such a critique—that women are objectified by the production of such imagery—that’s fine. It’s valid criticism. Nevertheless, it can also be wrong. Not all [nude] female imagery is created to objectify women, although some definitely is. Not all [nude] female imagery objectifies women, although some absolutely does. It is, however, the student’s right to make this choice. And we must remember, what we have here is a student who has stated clearly that this was not the student’s intention.
The opportunities missed here are enormous!
1. The professor—despite an obvious personal social agenda—could have let the student finish the painting and then provided relevant critique—including social critique about the objectification of women—i.e., other ways in which the painting might be interpreted. By insisting on the change of content, the professor decimated the opportunity for genuine teaching and learning in this situation.
2. After completion, the professor could have experienced the student’s intentionalism and interpreted the painting in the manner in which the student intended—keeping an open mind. This is not impossible.
3. The success and value of the painting—based upon personal taste—could have been assessed. It may have been a success—it may also have failed—but we will never know.
4. The student could have learned that “the idea” behind the painting—no matter the intentionalism—didn’t work. On the other hand, it might have. Again, we will never know.
Although another student witnessed this incident, I hope to treat this critique as a philosophical example, fully taking into account the fact that the professor has not commented. If the events in this story have been related truthfully, then I believe my critique of the situation is accurate.
Throughout my experience in art education I have come to believe that there is simply nothing that can ruin a developing artist like bad critique. Those who undertake the responsibility to be teachers of art hold the aspirations and talents of their students in trust, and their words of praise or condemnation carry immense weight. This is certainly not to say that students should be treated with kid gloves, showered with empty praise, and insulated from harsh appraisals when these might be appropriate. If a work of art is truly a failure, the instructor should say so.
But, negative criticism is not the same as bad critique. Bad critique attacks the artist rather than the artwork. It imposes someone else’s values on the artist’s work. It destroys the artist’s sense of self, kills creativity, and thwarts ambition. The student in this story was harmed by the professor’s bad critique—frustrated, angry, discouraged, and now contemplating an action that could result in a low grade, possibly jeopardizing the student’s academic future, or capitulating to demands that would undermine the student’s artistic integrity. This is, in my opinion, a vile position for the student to be forced to occupy, but such is the result of bad critique.
Let all who teach or study the arts take heed.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Whose is it?
Whose is it?
The academy… Oh how I struggle with the academy! But I also love, appreciate and love to criticize the academy. The academy keeps me thinking, which is the academy’s greatest gift! Of course, I am a product of the academy. I’m an ardent supporter of higher education and most especially education in the arts. Nevertheless, I hear so many common complaints about the academy, and chief among those complaints: “They want me to make my art their way.” Or similarly: “They force me to make the art they want.”
Ah yes, the “ol’ stamp of approval” is alive, well and prevalent in the academy no matter whether you’re a Freshman or Doctoral student. And I must state at the outset that I don’t disagree with it entirely—only in principle, especially when it’s misapplied.
Speaking specifically of the visual arts, students often complain that professors prescribe or suggest how art should be made, how it is accomplished and even go so far as to require aesthetic and subject matter changes. I once witnessed a professor take a brush out of a student’s hand, paint upon the student’s painting and say, “There, that’s better.” I was horrified! But, I’ve seen this twice. I’ve watched as professors not only suggest aesthetics changes, but also demanded or strongly suggested changes in subject matter and style. And recently I read some comments from a professor who wrote to a student wherein the professor urged the student to completely abandon a specific (successful) style to include vastly different content, which the professor judged more contemporary and informed. The suggestions, in my opinion, were indicative of that professor’s personal style and taste, which—in that professor’s art—includes content that I personally judge as strange, disconnected, ugly and dissonant. Is it “Art”? Of course! But if I’m being honest, that professor’s art is bad, worthless, dumpster art. And a professor’s individual taste should never interfere with a student’s desired practice.
Nevertheless is it wrong for a professor to say these things, to challenge a student or prescribe experimentation? Here’s a hint: yes and no, but I’ll get back to this in a moment.
Now in my opinion the academy—at large—is stuck in the past and also in the predominant rut of challenging students to experiment and thereby inspire growth. It’s a “one size fits all” static, stale and rigid pedagogical concept rampantly misapplied. And for too many professors it’s the only arrow in their quiver—it’s all they know, it’s what they’ve been taught, what’s been passed down to them, their business-as-usual model. I’m belaboring the point on purpose. Why, you might ask? While art itself isn't stuck—thankfully ever evolving, pedagogy and curriculum development in studio art has largely experienced little evolutionary growth or transformation since after World War II.
Jerry Saltz, Senior Art Critic at New York Magazine, recently wrote, “I get mad at the art world too:… …at tenured academics who can’t turn the page from 1968…” (10/13/2011 at 01:00 AM, Blog / New York Magazine / Work of Art Recap: Jerry Saltz Is Back Recapping His Own Reality Show).
I agree [although I’d venture to say it might be even earlier than 1968]. I’d add to that the current crop of tenure-track academics have carried forth that tradition of not turning the page into their own academic careers or who are themselves narrowed by adherence to static, stale, rigid pedagogical concepts rampantly misapplied. (Yes, it bears repeating).
In certain academies like the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, there is a veritable buffet of classes from which to choose in every visual art discipline. If you take a painting class in, say, impressionism, as a student you shouldn’t be surprised to be expected to paint like an impressionist. However, at academies where class offerings are less profuse, students can—I think—expect to experience the “ol’ stamp of approval—by this way you shall pass—paint what I tell you to paint” dictum.
Okay, I’ll answer the question… At academies that cannot offer the wide range of classes available at more prolific programs like SAIC, is it wrong to ask or direct a student to experiment in their studio practice? No, it’s not wrong. Experimentation can and does inspire growth. I really believe this. However, professors, themselves, must never force a student into performing “only by this way shall you pass—stamp of approval” art in lieu of creating their own art and style. The challenge for the professor is to be knowledgeable enough, skilled enough and flexible enough to steward a student—especially those in their junior and senior years—to grow in their (the student’s) practice, to refine and to improve the practice students will either work in after graduation or use to gain acceptance to graduate school. In my opinion, at such academies, curriculum should be changed, developed and pedagogical practice evolved to promote and direct experimentation only in the freshman and sophomore years (as in those institutions with First-Year Programs), leaving the junior year to coalesce a student’s practice, to see if their ideas are working, to mentor refinements and to prepare the student for the later part of their junior year and the beginning of the senior year—before an undergraduate must consider a career trajectory or graduate school applications—to accomplishing/making cohesive art.
I owe a great deal to my professors and others who once suggested a change or two, especially when writing my dissertation! I’m quite fond of quoting something a professor once told me: “You’re not here for my approval, you’re here to see if your ideas work.” For the most part, I can gladly report that the difference in my experience—with only three painfully notable exceptions—is that almost all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received were constructive, guiding and helpful. Additionally, with the exception of the same three painfully notable exceptions, all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received dealt with my ideas and subject matter. What is/was the difference in my experience versus so many others? My professors! My professors respected my ideas, addressed my style—even my writing, though in my dissertation I naturally had to conform to a more scholarly standard—and they stewarded me on to greater accomplishment and success. But, I’m lucky! I’m in the minority.
When I’m fortunate enough to teach—and I do consider it a privilege each and every time—I try and pay forward the support and professionalism I experienced and received when I was a student. If more of those entrusted with the task of nurturing developing artists would consider their jobs in this light, perhaps academia might be a better place. And, perhaps, it is time for instructors and professors in the academy to be held accountable to the standards of professional development that have long been in place in other departments. It is laughable to think that, say, a professor of medicine or computer science would still be teaching theories prevalent in 1968, yet art department faculty are expected to simply continue producing and exhibiting their own artworks. Ongoing discussions of relevant theory and criticism should also be expected of faculty members in art departments, and their personal art practice should perhaps be evaluated in terms of individual growth and development as well, lest professors produce the same kinds of works decade after decade.
Radical ideas, to be sure. But, as Jerry Saltz’s comment cited earlier illustrates, it is time for the academy to re-evaluate its business model, to advance past 1968, and to join with other academic disciplines in the 21st century university.
The academy… Oh how I struggle with the academy! But I also love, appreciate and love to criticize the academy. The academy keeps me thinking, which is the academy’s greatest gift! Of course, I am a product of the academy. I’m an ardent supporter of higher education and most especially education in the arts. Nevertheless, I hear so many common complaints about the academy, and chief among those complaints: “They want me to make my art their way.” Or similarly: “They force me to make the art they want.”
Ah yes, the “ol’ stamp of approval” is alive, well and prevalent in the academy no matter whether you’re a Freshman or Doctoral student. And I must state at the outset that I don’t disagree with it entirely—only in principle, especially when it’s misapplied.
Speaking specifically of the visual arts, students often complain that professors prescribe or suggest how art should be made, how it is accomplished and even go so far as to require aesthetic and subject matter changes. I once witnessed a professor take a brush out of a student’s hand, paint upon the student’s painting and say, “There, that’s better.” I was horrified! But, I’ve seen this twice. I’ve watched as professors not only suggest aesthetics changes, but also demanded or strongly suggested changes in subject matter and style. And recently I read some comments from a professor who wrote to a student wherein the professor urged the student to completely abandon a specific (successful) style to include vastly different content, which the professor judged more contemporary and informed. The suggestions, in my opinion, were indicative of that professor’s personal style and taste, which—in that professor’s art—includes content that I personally judge as strange, disconnected, ugly and dissonant. Is it “Art”? Of course! But if I’m being honest, that professor’s art is bad, worthless, dumpster art. And a professor’s individual taste should never interfere with a student’s desired practice.
Nevertheless is it wrong for a professor to say these things, to challenge a student or prescribe experimentation? Here’s a hint: yes and no, but I’ll get back to this in a moment.
Now in my opinion the academy—at large—is stuck in the past and also in the predominant rut of challenging students to experiment and thereby inspire growth. It’s a “one size fits all” static, stale and rigid pedagogical concept rampantly misapplied. And for too many professors it’s the only arrow in their quiver—it’s all they know, it’s what they’ve been taught, what’s been passed down to them, their business-as-usual model. I’m belaboring the point on purpose. Why, you might ask? While art itself isn't stuck—thankfully ever evolving, pedagogy and curriculum development in studio art has largely experienced little evolutionary growth or transformation since after World War II.
Jerry Saltz, Senior Art Critic at New York Magazine, recently wrote, “I get mad at the art world too:… …at tenured academics who can’t turn the page from 1968…” (10/13/2011 at 01:00 AM, Blog / New York Magazine / Work of Art Recap: Jerry Saltz Is Back Recapping His Own Reality Show).
I agree [although I’d venture to say it might be even earlier than 1968]. I’d add to that the current crop of tenure-track academics have carried forth that tradition of not turning the page into their own academic careers or who are themselves narrowed by adherence to static, stale, rigid pedagogical concepts rampantly misapplied. (Yes, it bears repeating).
In certain academies like the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, there is a veritable buffet of classes from which to choose in every visual art discipline. If you take a painting class in, say, impressionism, as a student you shouldn’t be surprised to be expected to paint like an impressionist. However, at academies where class offerings are less profuse, students can—I think—expect to experience the “ol’ stamp of approval—by this way you shall pass—paint what I tell you to paint” dictum.
Okay, I’ll answer the question… At academies that cannot offer the wide range of classes available at more prolific programs like SAIC, is it wrong to ask or direct a student to experiment in their studio practice? No, it’s not wrong. Experimentation can and does inspire growth. I really believe this. However, professors, themselves, must never force a student into performing “only by this way shall you pass—stamp of approval” art in lieu of creating their own art and style. The challenge for the professor is to be knowledgeable enough, skilled enough and flexible enough to steward a student—especially those in their junior and senior years—to grow in their (the student’s) practice, to refine and to improve the practice students will either work in after graduation or use to gain acceptance to graduate school. In my opinion, at such academies, curriculum should be changed, developed and pedagogical practice evolved to promote and direct experimentation only in the freshman and sophomore years (as in those institutions with First-Year Programs), leaving the junior year to coalesce a student’s practice, to see if their ideas are working, to mentor refinements and to prepare the student for the later part of their junior year and the beginning of the senior year—before an undergraduate must consider a career trajectory or graduate school applications—to accomplishing/making cohesive art.
I owe a great deal to my professors and others who once suggested a change or two, especially when writing my dissertation! I’m quite fond of quoting something a professor once told me: “You’re not here for my approval, you’re here to see if your ideas work.” For the most part, I can gladly report that the difference in my experience—with only three painfully notable exceptions—is that almost all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received were constructive, guiding and helpful. Additionally, with the exception of the same three painfully notable exceptions, all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received dealt with my ideas and subject matter. What is/was the difference in my experience versus so many others? My professors! My professors respected my ideas, addressed my style—even my writing, though in my dissertation I naturally had to conform to a more scholarly standard—and they stewarded me on to greater accomplishment and success. But, I’m lucky! I’m in the minority.
When I’m fortunate enough to teach—and I do consider it a privilege each and every time—I try and pay forward the support and professionalism I experienced and received when I was a student. If more of those entrusted with the task of nurturing developing artists would consider their jobs in this light, perhaps academia might be a better place. And, perhaps, it is time for instructors and professors in the academy to be held accountable to the standards of professional development that have long been in place in other departments. It is laughable to think that, say, a professor of medicine or computer science would still be teaching theories prevalent in 1968, yet art department faculty are expected to simply continue producing and exhibiting their own artworks. Ongoing discussions of relevant theory and criticism should also be expected of faculty members in art departments, and their personal art practice should perhaps be evaluated in terms of individual growth and development as well, lest professors produce the same kinds of works decade after decade.
Radical ideas, to be sure. But, as Jerry Saltz’s comment cited earlier illustrates, it is time for the academy to re-evaluate its business model, to advance past 1968, and to join with other academic disciplines in the 21st century university.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Work of Art – Season 2 / Episode
Work of Art – Season 2 / Episode 1
What a difference a day makes—not to mention an entire year!
Work of Art is back and, if I’m being honest, I’m not disappointed. Actually, I’m rather pleased and optimistic…mostly…although it’s still early.
The Challenge…
Good God, I hated the idea of that challenge. Kitsch? Really? Kitsch? Kitsch is horrible enough all by itself, and then the contestants had to use it as source material? Who comes up with these challenges, anyway? It failed miserably, but maybe that’s just because it was Kitsch. (Have I said I dislike Kitsch? I do!) I thought the challenge was to make “gallery-worthy” art out of kitsch, not kitschy-crap out kitsch. Thankfully there was one successful exception, in my opinion. But for that one exception, however, I thought the rest of it looked really awful. Crap. Just crap. And, save that one exception, the judges chose the best of the worst and a worst of the worst. Truthfully, in this challenge all but one contestant deserved to be sent home. But what fun would that be, right?
The Judges…
Did Bravo send the judges to art school? Did they have a criticism coach this season? Whatever happened, they were MUCH IMPROVED!!! Even the sound bite quips weren’t annoying. Most improved? (…Oh, my eyes are rolling, rolling, rolling as I write this)…China Chow! Eh, for the most part…thus far. Her comment at the crit in conjunction with Ugo’s piece as he removed the background was off-base—it was still crap—bad art—no matter the background. I made a point of watching the extended clips of the judges’ comments. Last season I have to think that really bad editing coupled with really bad cliché sound bite quips and regurgitated slogans made for even worse televised criticism. But, given the first episode of Season 2, maybe the first season’s criticism blunders were akin to labor pains. Now birthed, it’s going much better? Well, one can hope. One last thing… Jerry, well done!
The Artists…
Sarah, as I’ve said, save one example, I disliked every other piece of art made. Yours was the only piece I thought worthy. To me it did appear a bit more like an odd children’s book illustration, but it certainly was done well. Yes, good skill, craft, execution, balance and harmony. Well done!
Ugo, your piece was “art,” but—at least on TV—it left me feeling absolutely nothing—no aesthetic experience, no desire, nothing. Ugo, of all the contestants who deserved to go home, you deserved it the most. So, I guess the judges got that one right.
The Sucklord, I didn’t dislike your piece more than certain others, so I wouldn’t have put you in the bottom three. Nevertheless, your piece looked like a cheap, smarmy, suck-ey version of a KB Toys display with no edge to it at all. And this from a guy who’s all about edge? It was boring. What happened? Never mind. I don’t really want to know.
As for the rest of you, collectively, none of your efforts even registered as a blip on the aesthetic radar screen, so there’s nothing worth writing about or mentioning. Hopefully, the next challenge will have been a better task from which to judge your talent and skill.
Wrapping up…
I’m really excited by the first episode, despite the awful, worthless, crappy art made by everyone but Sarah. It’s fantastic the series is back. The judges nailed the critique! China’s outfits weren’t ridiculous, her criticism was—with one minor exception—spot on (← Geez, did I say that?), as was Jerry Saltz. Simon and Bill, well they always did anchor the show’s professionalism, which was a welcome, familiar and reassuring component.
Can’t wait for Episode 2!
Best, Bruce Mackh, Ph.D. (aka L’Art)
What a difference a day makes—not to mention an entire year!
Work of Art is back and, if I’m being honest, I’m not disappointed. Actually, I’m rather pleased and optimistic…mostly…although it’s still early.
The Challenge…
Good God, I hated the idea of that challenge. Kitsch? Really? Kitsch? Kitsch is horrible enough all by itself, and then the contestants had to use it as source material? Who comes up with these challenges, anyway? It failed miserably, but maybe that’s just because it was Kitsch. (Have I said I dislike Kitsch? I do!) I thought the challenge was to make “gallery-worthy” art out of kitsch, not kitschy-crap out kitsch. Thankfully there was one successful exception, in my opinion. But for that one exception, however, I thought the rest of it looked really awful. Crap. Just crap. And, save that one exception, the judges chose the best of the worst and a worst of the worst. Truthfully, in this challenge all but one contestant deserved to be sent home. But what fun would that be, right?
The Judges…
Did Bravo send the judges to art school? Did they have a criticism coach this season? Whatever happened, they were MUCH IMPROVED!!! Even the sound bite quips weren’t annoying. Most improved? (…Oh, my eyes are rolling, rolling, rolling as I write this)…China Chow! Eh, for the most part…thus far. Her comment at the crit in conjunction with Ugo’s piece as he removed the background was off-base—it was still crap—bad art—no matter the background. I made a point of watching the extended clips of the judges’ comments. Last season I have to think that really bad editing coupled with really bad cliché sound bite quips and regurgitated slogans made for even worse televised criticism. But, given the first episode of Season 2, maybe the first season’s criticism blunders were akin to labor pains. Now birthed, it’s going much better? Well, one can hope. One last thing… Jerry, well done!
The Artists…
Sarah, as I’ve said, save one example, I disliked every other piece of art made. Yours was the only piece I thought worthy. To me it did appear a bit more like an odd children’s book illustration, but it certainly was done well. Yes, good skill, craft, execution, balance and harmony. Well done!
Ugo, your piece was “art,” but—at least on TV—it left me feeling absolutely nothing—no aesthetic experience, no desire, nothing. Ugo, of all the contestants who deserved to go home, you deserved it the most. So, I guess the judges got that one right.
The Sucklord, I didn’t dislike your piece more than certain others, so I wouldn’t have put you in the bottom three. Nevertheless, your piece looked like a cheap, smarmy, suck-ey version of a KB Toys display with no edge to it at all. And this from a guy who’s all about edge? It was boring. What happened? Never mind. I don’t really want to know.
As for the rest of you, collectively, none of your efforts even registered as a blip on the aesthetic radar screen, so there’s nothing worth writing about or mentioning. Hopefully, the next challenge will have been a better task from which to judge your talent and skill.
Wrapping up…
I’m really excited by the first episode, despite the awful, worthless, crappy art made by everyone but Sarah. It’s fantastic the series is back. The judges nailed the critique! China’s outfits weren’t ridiculous, her criticism was—with one minor exception—spot on (← Geez, did I say that?), as was Jerry Saltz. Simon and Bill, well they always did anchor the show’s professionalism, which was a welcome, familiar and reassuring component.
Can’t wait for Episode 2!
Best, Bruce Mackh, Ph.D. (aka L’Art)
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Work of Art: The Next Great Artist/Season 2
Last season on Work of Art….
In 2010 Sarah Jessica Parker and Bravo TV teamed up to create a competitive reality game show called, Work of Art: The Next Great Artist. Fourteen contemporary artists competed against one another, weekly, in a quasi academy-like environment for the eventual award of a museum exhibition and a one hundred thousand dollar cash prize. I think it only fair to say at the outset that despite my many criticisms written during the show, I absolutely loved it. I could not stop watching, I waited anxiously for each episode, purchased the episodes via iTunes so that I could watch them again and again and I loved writing about it. In essence, Sarah Jessica Parker and Bravo took my favorite subject, Art, and raised it to the level of a viewable popular competitive contemporary phenomenon. Additionally, and in retrospect, the entire series was a tele-viewable aesthetic experience—creating and imparting excitement and desire. Even the things I didn’t like, I loved not liking. Genius!
Speaking of likes and dislikes…
I applaud the inaugural winner, Abdi Farah. His artistic contributions were creative, conceptual and visually stunning, especially the large drawing, which I believe was the finest example of art by the contestants during the entire show. It created an aesthetic experience for me that was unmatched by the work of the other artists. Abdi deserved to win.
If I’m being honest, I think China Chow was a poor choice for host and judge. I found her artistic knowledge, grasp of the subject and proficiency in her role to be disappointing. Was she beautiful and well dressed? Sure. But if we contrast Ms. Chow with Padma Lakshmi of Top Chef, another Bravo production, the difference in accomplishment, knowledge and proficiency with the feature subject is staggering. Padma has written two cookbooks—a directly relevant accomplishment. Ms. Chow? Not so much… Being a Harper’s Bazaar “It Girl,” earning a spot on “The Next Best-Dressed List” and appearing in Maxim are all worthy accomplishments. But what does any of it have to do with art or judging the art of the next great artist? Is Kara Walker busy?
I criticized New York Magazine’s Chief Art Critic, Jerry Saltz, for his sound bite clichéd-criticism and I stand by my remarks. They were shallow too-oft repeated slogans I would like to have seen him avoid. And the constant needling “Why? Why? Why?” could so easily be made apropos with the addition of ten seconds more literate analysis. For instance, when Nao announced, “I’m not responsible for your experience of my work,” Jerry could have quipped, “You are if you care for your work to be judged successful.” How long would that take? And, perhaps Mr. Saltz did say that and Bravo edited it out. (We’ll never know). Either way, the addition of this type of piquant criticism would make Mr. Saltz sound more like Simon Cowell not less—a worthy goal. That said, I’m a huge fan of Jerry’s writing, criticism and blog, where I think his work excels, far surpassing his contemporaries.
The glitz and glamour of the show was curious and troublesome for me. Very few artists live in luxury apartments, feed themselves so well, or tour New York City in an Audi. And I wholeheartedly respect the expressions of a very familiar artist who told me she would have a hard time creating Fine Art in conjunction with an Audi.
I applaud the return of Bill Powers and Simon de Pury who, for me, added depth and market perspective—in my opinion a vital an element for the show. Do I understand correctly that Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn is not returning to the show? Her bio is missing among the judges.
Overall the first season of Work of Art was a success. I think artists and other viewers can take away many important lessons. Art is serious business. Artists do compete in the real world for shows, sales, gallery representation and the sort of notoriety appropriately won by Abdi. The Art World and its business is vastly different from that, say, of finance, but those who are eventually successful have put forth no less effort than lawyers or doctors who live for their craft, as well. I have no experience in competitive reality TV, to be certain. But I have to imagine that such an undertaking with Art must be more difficult than similar programs centered on cooking and food. So I salute and celebrate Sarah Jessica Parker and Bravo for presenting something so subjective as art as a competitive reality-TV pleasure—it’s far more interesting than simple ol’ Survivor!
In 2010 Sarah Jessica Parker and Bravo TV teamed up to create a competitive reality game show called, Work of Art: The Next Great Artist. Fourteen contemporary artists competed against one another, weekly, in a quasi academy-like environment for the eventual award of a museum exhibition and a one hundred thousand dollar cash prize. I think it only fair to say at the outset that despite my many criticisms written during the show, I absolutely loved it. I could not stop watching, I waited anxiously for each episode, purchased the episodes via iTunes so that I could watch them again and again and I loved writing about it. In essence, Sarah Jessica Parker and Bravo took my favorite subject, Art, and raised it to the level of a viewable popular competitive contemporary phenomenon. Additionally, and in retrospect, the entire series was a tele-viewable aesthetic experience—creating and imparting excitement and desire. Even the things I didn’t like, I loved not liking. Genius!
Speaking of likes and dislikes…
I applaud the inaugural winner, Abdi Farah. His artistic contributions were creative, conceptual and visually stunning, especially the large drawing, which I believe was the finest example of art by the contestants during the entire show. It created an aesthetic experience for me that was unmatched by the work of the other artists. Abdi deserved to win.
If I’m being honest, I think China Chow was a poor choice for host and judge. I found her artistic knowledge, grasp of the subject and proficiency in her role to be disappointing. Was she beautiful and well dressed? Sure. But if we contrast Ms. Chow with Padma Lakshmi of Top Chef, another Bravo production, the difference in accomplishment, knowledge and proficiency with the feature subject is staggering. Padma has written two cookbooks—a directly relevant accomplishment. Ms. Chow? Not so much… Being a Harper’s Bazaar “It Girl,” earning a spot on “The Next Best-Dressed List” and appearing in Maxim are all worthy accomplishments. But what does any of it have to do with art or judging the art of the next great artist? Is Kara Walker busy?
I criticized New York Magazine’s Chief Art Critic, Jerry Saltz, for his sound bite clichéd-criticism and I stand by my remarks. They were shallow too-oft repeated slogans I would like to have seen him avoid. And the constant needling “Why? Why? Why?” could so easily be made apropos with the addition of ten seconds more literate analysis. For instance, when Nao announced, “I’m not responsible for your experience of my work,” Jerry could have quipped, “You are if you care for your work to be judged successful.” How long would that take? And, perhaps Mr. Saltz did say that and Bravo edited it out. (We’ll never know). Either way, the addition of this type of piquant criticism would make Mr. Saltz sound more like Simon Cowell not less—a worthy goal. That said, I’m a huge fan of Jerry’s writing, criticism and blog, where I think his work excels, far surpassing his contemporaries.
The glitz and glamour of the show was curious and troublesome for me. Very few artists live in luxury apartments, feed themselves so well, or tour New York City in an Audi. And I wholeheartedly respect the expressions of a very familiar artist who told me she would have a hard time creating Fine Art in conjunction with an Audi.
I applaud the return of Bill Powers and Simon de Pury who, for me, added depth and market perspective—in my opinion a vital an element for the show. Do I understand correctly that Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn is not returning to the show? Her bio is missing among the judges.
Overall the first season of Work of Art was a success. I think artists and other viewers can take away many important lessons. Art is serious business. Artists do compete in the real world for shows, sales, gallery representation and the sort of notoriety appropriately won by Abdi. The Art World and its business is vastly different from that, say, of finance, but those who are eventually successful have put forth no less effort than lawyers or doctors who live for their craft, as well. I have no experience in competitive reality TV, to be certain. But I have to imagine that such an undertaking with Art must be more difficult than similar programs centered on cooking and food. So I salute and celebrate Sarah Jessica Parker and Bravo for presenting something so subjective as art as a competitive reality-TV pleasure—it’s far more interesting than simple ol’ Survivor!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Reposting of my last "Work of Art" review...
Work of Art (Bravo): The Next Great Artist.
Great potential, but right now…not so much…
Editorial Comments
[Inspired by critic Anton Ego (of Ratatouille)]
“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read.”
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I am not a reality TV expert. When I learned about the concept and the structure (judges and challenges) of Work of Art, I was apprehensive, but also very excited. I was especially excited initially to see the name of Jerry Saltz associated with the show, but in the beginning everyone else was seemingly insignificant. Mr. Saltz was, and still is in some respects, an art world heavyweight. I had calculated that Mr. Saltz’s inclusion lent the production enough legitimacy to make it a serious undertaking.
I studied the show as much as possible, while simultaneously writing my dissertation, continuing my research, teaching and trying to eek out a bit of life. I faithfully watched every Wednesday and even purchased the episodes one by one from iTunes the next day in order to watch the show again and again. Work of Art became a pleasant distraction and—OH NO—entertaining! The revelation that I was entertained came as somewhat of a shock, but as I said in one of my previous posts, if reality TV can give a boost to a phenomenon as important as art, why not? I liked the idea.
In addition to enjoying Work of Art, another thing it did was annoy me to no end. It was sort of like eating French Onion Soup—I look forward to it, but the intestinal difficulties later…well, it’s the price I know I will pay. The one-liner critique comments were intolerable. Mr. Saltz and his pressing, repetitive questions drove me nuts! I just couldn’t understand the choice of China Chow as judge or host, and her wardrobe was even more confusing: you just don’t see this on Top Chef or any other reality TV production. I found it maddening.
“But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talents, new creations. The new needs friends.”
As it very often happens, when idea meets execution things can and will go wrong. This show is no exception. That said, if it hasn’t already been obvious thus far, let me say loudly and clearly: I SUPPORT THE IDEA BEHIND THIS SHOW AND SINCERELY HOPE IT CONTINUES ON INTO SUCCESSIVE SEASONS. Like every other show, Top Chef, etc., I hope there are improvements and changes.
“Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”
Who would have thought that one of today’s brightest stars in country music would have come from Checotah, Oklahoma? Carrie Underwood and the production team at American Idol thought so, that’s who! And if Bravo’s Work of Art proves anything, it’s that the winner was not from any major art or cultural super center. A winner was named, a winner is known. Nevertheless, just like Carrie Underwood, it’s what you do with that win afterwards that will make or break you. Otherwise, you’ll end up like Peregrin—the Whitney Museum collected her work a few years back, but her career has been a fizzle until now, and her future still remains to be seen. Greatness is possible despite humble origins, but you must actually possess greatness. Does Abdi possess greatness? If anyone had a chance, I think it is Abdi. However, an arranged marriage—the show at the Brooklyn as the ultimate game show prize orchestrated before the first episode was ever filmed—does not guarantee greatness. So, we must wait and see if Abdi is a flash-in-the-pan game show winner like American Idol’s Ruben Stoddard or The Next Great Artist’s Carrie Underwood. Plenty of artists get a show in New York: it’s not the first show, but the ability to secure successive shows that’s far more indicative of success.
BRAVO
Here are my criticisms of the show:
The lack of scholarship and the lack of an academic presence were obvious. It is as if Bravo completely ignored this component of the art world. Perhaps the inclusion of Jerry Saltz was the wink towards academia, but it just didn’t work out that way. Bravo, with or without trying, connected to some important and familiar academic concepts and conventions during the course of the show that simply did not receive adequate attention from the entirely commercial cast. Bravo cloistered the contestants (artists) in a “crit,” but forgot that when plugging into this environment (a critique) it is generally far more academic. Think of a cognitive map—what you touch touches something else. As such, Bravo touched, but ignored the academy.
The critique should not have been called a “crit” since the art was judged, judgments were passed and someone was sent home in a game show environment. Critiques are constructive and comprehensive—no one gets sent home from a crit. The “crit” should have been called the “judgment”: you did not appoint a panel of critics, but of judges. By definition, judges pass judgment. While it might well be impractical to show the critique of each artists’ work, some of the artists with greater potential may have been able to develop their work and hang on longer in the show if they had received more feedback—a real critique—after each challenge. Instead, there were the top three and bottom three, with everybody else ignored and left to try and guess what was wrong with their work or what was somewhat successful. I think Bravo perhaps needs to go back to the studio on this issue prior to next season. One suggestion I could offer: allow the artists to hold a critique of each other’s work prior to the opening of the gallery, perhaps with Simon as moderator. At least this would provide some peer feedback even if the judges were not involved.
On Bravo’s Top Chef and on the Food Network, judges are charged with the task of describing their culinary experience as they eat the contestant’s food (taste, texture, flavor, etc.). This makes for an interesting, though dissimilar (relatable) experience. On Work of Art that kind element was missing in critique. Description and analysis are two very important critique concepts that were conspicuously missing. Maybe Bravo relied too heavily upon the visual given that Work of Art dealt with works of visual art—assuming the audience could see what was going on and presuming we all might have a shared experience. However, this just wasn’t so. I suspect that studio lighting and television editing added an element that altered the TV viewing of the art from the way in which it might have been seen in person. Mark’s painting, for instance, didn’t look that bad to me on TV or the internet, yet was lambasted as bad hotel art by Jerry Saltz. Clearly there was a visual divide without any compensation, but this could potentially be resolved with a higher level of articulation on the part of the judges.
The challenges were somewhat like academy homework assignments, but then again, not. Academy assignments are always more instructional, less frivolous, students are generally given more time to complete an assignment and no one expects a “masterpiece.” With the exception of Abdi’s drawing in the second-to-last episode, I saw nothing that rose to meet the challenge of creating a masterpiece in such little time. Abdi did, however, succeed in this single instance. Perhaps collecting and mining some university art course syllabi in order to refashion the challenges would be a good idea if there is to be a second season. I do not know what the actual shooting schedule was like, but it appeared to have taken place in about two weeks, with work days and show days occurring back-to-back. To be fair to the artists and to raise the bar a bit on the quality of the work that results, it seems to me that there should be at least three days, if not a week, allotted for each challenge.
Audis? No artist I know goes tooling around in an Audi! Of course I understand the need for corporate sponsorship, but this was beyond the pale. [And yes, I am aware that the American Idol contestants crank out a new Ford commercial each week.] Find some old dusty Fords or VWs that leak oil, smell and break down from time to time. Instead of three Audis, get two cramped subcompacts and stick all fourteen contestants in there. Or at least make it similar to the Penguin book cover challenge and be overt in requiring the artists to make commercial artwork for Audi.
“They come from the cities and they come from the smaller towns. With beat up cars…”
“With pipe dreams in their heads and very little money in their hands. Some are black and some are white, they ain't to proud to sleep on the floor tonight…”
Speaking of which, if there is a next season, don’t house the contestants in some luxury condominium. Make the artists sleep in the studio and allow them work around the clock! I personally know three graduate students who each spent a year living in their university-provided art studio spaces during grad school. They worked constantly, ate crusty, greasy pizza most of the time, showered at the university rec-center (or simply stunk), wore horribly tattered clothing, but…made really great art work! Apart from the academy, struggling would-be artists have it even worse—just ask Erik. Dial down the opulence! Artists who haven’t made it big just don’t live this way. As per my previous suggestion of allowing the artists more time for each challenge, spending less on the accommodations would perhaps allow budget to provide that additional time.
China Chow: I cannot think of a more unsuccessful element of this show. Ms. Chow cheapens the show with her fashion antics. Host and judge? That was her function, yes, but NO! Have you watched the clip of Ms. Chow questioning Jaclyn’s painting—voicing her suspicions that the woman in the painting couldn’t actually be Jaclyn because, “those aren’t her thighs!” Unintelligent and obviously lacking in discernable artistic judgment! And I stand by my oft-repeated criticism that she more often came across to the audience as a programmed mannequin for some designer’s clothing line who regurgitated clichés at the end of each show. Inappropriate! A single pair of her shoes undoubtedly cost more than all the clothing in any one contestant’s luggage. In another Bravo production, Top Chef, Padma Lakshmi is always appropriately attired, never overdressed, and avoids such blunders.
Jerry Saltz: Immediately Jerry seemed like a wise choice, one who would have given the show an intellectual edge. It didn’t happen. If beady little eyes staring out beneath cocked eyebrows and an insistent demeanor were Bravo’s idea of edge, it fell flat. On American Idol, everyone held his or her breath in anticipation of what Simon Cowell might say because Simon is a master in delivering quick, poignant criticism. Jerry Saltz isn’t Simon Cowell and couldn’t perform in this context. I continue to appreciate his writing, but on camera and/or in the way the show was edited, it simply didn’t work.
Bill Powers: I am a fan of Mr. Powers thus far. I found Mr. Powers to possess reason, dignity and balance in his criticism, despite the one-liners. Bill was also a calming presence. Now and again his wardrobe could get a little funky (for instance, he might consider wearing dress shoes with a formal suit instead of sneakers), but that’s New York for you. I especially appreciate Bill’s gallery experience. In my mind, there are three great art world institutions (among other contributors): the academy, the museum, and the gallery. Though there are some unavoidable capitalistic motivations—but, hey, this is America—all artists would do well to learn as much about the gallery industry as possible. Bravo chose wisely with Bill.
Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn: Ms. Rohatyn is also a gallerist, and I actually preferred her over Bill Powers. Like Bill she possessed reason, dignity and balance in conjunction with perceptive criticism. There was an interesting additional edge I just can’t put my finger on to identify with an appropriate adjective. That said, she missed two shows, and in so doing it seems that unfortunate choices were made that resulted in the elimination of contestants who probably deserved to stay, and the retention of contestants who did not deserve to continue on in the competition. Bravo built in some redundancy by choosing two judges from the gallery arm of the art world. Insomuch as she missed two shows, I’d cut Ms. Rohatyn from the cast if there is a second season unless she could ensure that she would be consistently present.
THE ARTISTS
Abdi,
Congratulations! You did it! Painting, drawing, sculpture, figurative, representational, (and, yes, conceptual) journeyman artwork won out over more conceptual exhibits. You deserved to win. The last image shown of you walking away carrying a bunch of bags is, I’m sure, a metaphor for your bright future. I was especially happy to learn your back-story—one of a supportive and loving home life with a strong loving mother. Perfect! Additionally, the gesture of gifting your mother the one hundred thousand dollars in prize money is especially touching. Your mother is proud of you and so am I. Great job!
Miles,
In the end you spent three months and five thousand dollars eating at White Castle, taking pictures and making pixilated art—something you’ve already done. Your work fell flat, it was aesthetically unappealing and you deserved not to win. Antics are interesting only when the work produced is exceedingly successful. Yours wasn’t.
Peregrin,
I admit that I’ve been critical of you and your work. I would have sent you home in weeks past, but had I done so, I would have missed the opportunity to see the brilliant work you produced for the finale. Your installation this go-round was aesthetically pleasing and showed a great deal of hard work. Good job! Note to Miles: Abdi and Peregrin’s work is how work is supposed to look when given money and time to produce art—an uncommon luxury you squandered!
THE JUDGES
With the exception of Bill and Jeanne, whose commentary I enjoyed, same ol’ – same ol’. All forgettable. For next season, Bravo would be well advised to include a museum curator and someone from the academy (many of whom are also working artists) in order to provide a better representation of the art world contexts in which work must ultimately be successful.
Mr. Saltz,
I believe this was a poor opportunity for you—one you should probably have avoided. Practicing art criticism on TV is a great deal different than doing so in print. In print you can be (and are) far more lucid. The allowance of two hundred fifty to three hundred words is a luxury. When your criticism is confined to one or two lines, it has to be spot on. Yours wasn’t. Not ever. Furthermore, your needling of the contestants—“why not, why not, why not”—“defend your work, defend your work”—came across as faint, high-pitched, annoying, and completely absent of scholarship (and this should not be so insomuch as you are a professional critic with elite part-time educational affiliations—a professional [mind you] who travels, lectures and critiques grad students during one-on-one studio visits). Oddly enough, for me, this had the affect of likening you to a successful pro football walk-on—a player who proves himself in one position on the field without the standard collegiate experience or accomplishments. But, ask that player to play another position and his lack of formal training is evident. Next, judging from what I would term your cheeky comments in your blog at New York Magazine, you gave the impression—at least to me—that you were occasionally disappointed with the show. Again that, to me, is like the walk-on player whining about the team and play of the game after being invited to become a member of the team. Of course, you’re entitled to your opinion, as is anyone. Nevertheless I found your entire performance as a member of the cast to be disappointing. (Doesn’t Disney identify their theme park employees as “cast members?”)
Simon de Pury,
If I’m being honest, you were the most interesting person on Work of Art. When checking in with the artists your criticism seemed a little hesitant, but I actually understand this because I try not to redirect my students when providing feedback and direction on work in progress. Jerry Saltz called you a “poodle.” I’m not sure why, but I’m pretty sure he was simply being cheeky. I think you would have made a better judge than anyone else on the show. You, more than anyone, gave the show dignity. But, much like the act and concept of Rauschenberg’s “Erased de Kooning” you were erased by the antics of China Chow and Jerry Saltz. Should there be a second season I, for one, hope your role is expanded. In addition, you were always impeccably dressed, but not in a way that was distractingly ludicrous as was Ms. Chow.
Fin…
As quickly as it began, it is now over. I had a great time watching and writing. My shenanigans have come to an end, here, but I am inspired to continue on in my blog in conjunction with other art topics. I also enjoyed reading everyone else’s comments. What an extraordinary experience!
By the way, for those of you who have asked, my real name is Bruce Mackh.
Yours sincerely, L’Art
Great potential, but right now…not so much…
Editorial Comments
[Inspired by critic Anton Ego (of Ratatouille)]
“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read.”
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I am not a reality TV expert. When I learned about the concept and the structure (judges and challenges) of Work of Art, I was apprehensive, but also very excited. I was especially excited initially to see the name of Jerry Saltz associated with the show, but in the beginning everyone else was seemingly insignificant. Mr. Saltz was, and still is in some respects, an art world heavyweight. I had calculated that Mr. Saltz’s inclusion lent the production enough legitimacy to make it a serious undertaking.
I studied the show as much as possible, while simultaneously writing my dissertation, continuing my research, teaching and trying to eek out a bit of life. I faithfully watched every Wednesday and even purchased the episodes one by one from iTunes the next day in order to watch the show again and again. Work of Art became a pleasant distraction and—OH NO—entertaining! The revelation that I was entertained came as somewhat of a shock, but as I said in one of my previous posts, if reality TV can give a boost to a phenomenon as important as art, why not? I liked the idea.
In addition to enjoying Work of Art, another thing it did was annoy me to no end. It was sort of like eating French Onion Soup—I look forward to it, but the intestinal difficulties later…well, it’s the price I know I will pay. The one-liner critique comments were intolerable. Mr. Saltz and his pressing, repetitive questions drove me nuts! I just couldn’t understand the choice of China Chow as judge or host, and her wardrobe was even more confusing: you just don’t see this on Top Chef or any other reality TV production. I found it maddening.
“But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talents, new creations. The new needs friends.”
As it very often happens, when idea meets execution things can and will go wrong. This show is no exception. That said, if it hasn’t already been obvious thus far, let me say loudly and clearly: I SUPPORT THE IDEA BEHIND THIS SHOW AND SINCERELY HOPE IT CONTINUES ON INTO SUCCESSIVE SEASONS. Like every other show, Top Chef, etc., I hope there are improvements and changes.
“Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”
Who would have thought that one of today’s brightest stars in country music would have come from Checotah, Oklahoma? Carrie Underwood and the production team at American Idol thought so, that’s who! And if Bravo’s Work of Art proves anything, it’s that the winner was not from any major art or cultural super center. A winner was named, a winner is known. Nevertheless, just like Carrie Underwood, it’s what you do with that win afterwards that will make or break you. Otherwise, you’ll end up like Peregrin—the Whitney Museum collected her work a few years back, but her career has been a fizzle until now, and her future still remains to be seen. Greatness is possible despite humble origins, but you must actually possess greatness. Does Abdi possess greatness? If anyone had a chance, I think it is Abdi. However, an arranged marriage—the show at the Brooklyn as the ultimate game show prize orchestrated before the first episode was ever filmed—does not guarantee greatness. So, we must wait and see if Abdi is a flash-in-the-pan game show winner like American Idol’s Ruben Stoddard or The Next Great Artist’s Carrie Underwood. Plenty of artists get a show in New York: it’s not the first show, but the ability to secure successive shows that’s far more indicative of success.
BRAVO
Here are my criticisms of the show:
The lack of scholarship and the lack of an academic presence were obvious. It is as if Bravo completely ignored this component of the art world. Perhaps the inclusion of Jerry Saltz was the wink towards academia, but it just didn’t work out that way. Bravo, with or without trying, connected to some important and familiar academic concepts and conventions during the course of the show that simply did not receive adequate attention from the entirely commercial cast. Bravo cloistered the contestants (artists) in a “crit,” but forgot that when plugging into this environment (a critique) it is generally far more academic. Think of a cognitive map—what you touch touches something else. As such, Bravo touched, but ignored the academy.
The critique should not have been called a “crit” since the art was judged, judgments were passed and someone was sent home in a game show environment. Critiques are constructive and comprehensive—no one gets sent home from a crit. The “crit” should have been called the “judgment”: you did not appoint a panel of critics, but of judges. By definition, judges pass judgment. While it might well be impractical to show the critique of each artists’ work, some of the artists with greater potential may have been able to develop their work and hang on longer in the show if they had received more feedback—a real critique—after each challenge. Instead, there were the top three and bottom three, with everybody else ignored and left to try and guess what was wrong with their work or what was somewhat successful. I think Bravo perhaps needs to go back to the studio on this issue prior to next season. One suggestion I could offer: allow the artists to hold a critique of each other’s work prior to the opening of the gallery, perhaps with Simon as moderator. At least this would provide some peer feedback even if the judges were not involved.
On Bravo’s Top Chef and on the Food Network, judges are charged with the task of describing their culinary experience as they eat the contestant’s food (taste, texture, flavor, etc.). This makes for an interesting, though dissimilar (relatable) experience. On Work of Art that kind element was missing in critique. Description and analysis are two very important critique concepts that were conspicuously missing. Maybe Bravo relied too heavily upon the visual given that Work of Art dealt with works of visual art—assuming the audience could see what was going on and presuming we all might have a shared experience. However, this just wasn’t so. I suspect that studio lighting and television editing added an element that altered the TV viewing of the art from the way in which it might have been seen in person. Mark’s painting, for instance, didn’t look that bad to me on TV or the internet, yet was lambasted as bad hotel art by Jerry Saltz. Clearly there was a visual divide without any compensation, but this could potentially be resolved with a higher level of articulation on the part of the judges.
The challenges were somewhat like academy homework assignments, but then again, not. Academy assignments are always more instructional, less frivolous, students are generally given more time to complete an assignment and no one expects a “masterpiece.” With the exception of Abdi’s drawing in the second-to-last episode, I saw nothing that rose to meet the challenge of creating a masterpiece in such little time. Abdi did, however, succeed in this single instance. Perhaps collecting and mining some university art course syllabi in order to refashion the challenges would be a good idea if there is to be a second season. I do not know what the actual shooting schedule was like, but it appeared to have taken place in about two weeks, with work days and show days occurring back-to-back. To be fair to the artists and to raise the bar a bit on the quality of the work that results, it seems to me that there should be at least three days, if not a week, allotted for each challenge.
Audis? No artist I know goes tooling around in an Audi! Of course I understand the need for corporate sponsorship, but this was beyond the pale. [And yes, I am aware that the American Idol contestants crank out a new Ford commercial each week.] Find some old dusty Fords or VWs that leak oil, smell and break down from time to time. Instead of three Audis, get two cramped subcompacts and stick all fourteen contestants in there. Or at least make it similar to the Penguin book cover challenge and be overt in requiring the artists to make commercial artwork for Audi.
“They come from the cities and they come from the smaller towns. With beat up cars…”
“With pipe dreams in their heads and very little money in their hands. Some are black and some are white, they ain't to proud to sleep on the floor tonight…”
Speaking of which, if there is a next season, don’t house the contestants in some luxury condominium. Make the artists sleep in the studio and allow them work around the clock! I personally know three graduate students who each spent a year living in their university-provided art studio spaces during grad school. They worked constantly, ate crusty, greasy pizza most of the time, showered at the university rec-center (or simply stunk), wore horribly tattered clothing, but…made really great art work! Apart from the academy, struggling would-be artists have it even worse—just ask Erik. Dial down the opulence! Artists who haven’t made it big just don’t live this way. As per my previous suggestion of allowing the artists more time for each challenge, spending less on the accommodations would perhaps allow budget to provide that additional time.
China Chow: I cannot think of a more unsuccessful element of this show. Ms. Chow cheapens the show with her fashion antics. Host and judge? That was her function, yes, but NO! Have you watched the clip of Ms. Chow questioning Jaclyn’s painting—voicing her suspicions that the woman in the painting couldn’t actually be Jaclyn because, “those aren’t her thighs!” Unintelligent and obviously lacking in discernable artistic judgment! And I stand by my oft-repeated criticism that she more often came across to the audience as a programmed mannequin for some designer’s clothing line who regurgitated clichés at the end of each show. Inappropriate! A single pair of her shoes undoubtedly cost more than all the clothing in any one contestant’s luggage. In another Bravo production, Top Chef, Padma Lakshmi is always appropriately attired, never overdressed, and avoids such blunders.
Jerry Saltz: Immediately Jerry seemed like a wise choice, one who would have given the show an intellectual edge. It didn’t happen. If beady little eyes staring out beneath cocked eyebrows and an insistent demeanor were Bravo’s idea of edge, it fell flat. On American Idol, everyone held his or her breath in anticipation of what Simon Cowell might say because Simon is a master in delivering quick, poignant criticism. Jerry Saltz isn’t Simon Cowell and couldn’t perform in this context. I continue to appreciate his writing, but on camera and/or in the way the show was edited, it simply didn’t work.
Bill Powers: I am a fan of Mr. Powers thus far. I found Mr. Powers to possess reason, dignity and balance in his criticism, despite the one-liners. Bill was also a calming presence. Now and again his wardrobe could get a little funky (for instance, he might consider wearing dress shoes with a formal suit instead of sneakers), but that’s New York for you. I especially appreciate Bill’s gallery experience. In my mind, there are three great art world institutions (among other contributors): the academy, the museum, and the gallery. Though there are some unavoidable capitalistic motivations—but, hey, this is America—all artists would do well to learn as much about the gallery industry as possible. Bravo chose wisely with Bill.
Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn: Ms. Rohatyn is also a gallerist, and I actually preferred her over Bill Powers. Like Bill she possessed reason, dignity and balance in conjunction with perceptive criticism. There was an interesting additional edge I just can’t put my finger on to identify with an appropriate adjective. That said, she missed two shows, and in so doing it seems that unfortunate choices were made that resulted in the elimination of contestants who probably deserved to stay, and the retention of contestants who did not deserve to continue on in the competition. Bravo built in some redundancy by choosing two judges from the gallery arm of the art world. Insomuch as she missed two shows, I’d cut Ms. Rohatyn from the cast if there is a second season unless she could ensure that she would be consistently present.
THE ARTISTS
Abdi,
Congratulations! You did it! Painting, drawing, sculpture, figurative, representational, (and, yes, conceptual) journeyman artwork won out over more conceptual exhibits. You deserved to win. The last image shown of you walking away carrying a bunch of bags is, I’m sure, a metaphor for your bright future. I was especially happy to learn your back-story—one of a supportive and loving home life with a strong loving mother. Perfect! Additionally, the gesture of gifting your mother the one hundred thousand dollars in prize money is especially touching. Your mother is proud of you and so am I. Great job!
Miles,
In the end you spent three months and five thousand dollars eating at White Castle, taking pictures and making pixilated art—something you’ve already done. Your work fell flat, it was aesthetically unappealing and you deserved not to win. Antics are interesting only when the work produced is exceedingly successful. Yours wasn’t.
Peregrin,
I admit that I’ve been critical of you and your work. I would have sent you home in weeks past, but had I done so, I would have missed the opportunity to see the brilliant work you produced for the finale. Your installation this go-round was aesthetically pleasing and showed a great deal of hard work. Good job! Note to Miles: Abdi and Peregrin’s work is how work is supposed to look when given money and time to produce art—an uncommon luxury you squandered!
THE JUDGES
With the exception of Bill and Jeanne, whose commentary I enjoyed, same ol’ – same ol’. All forgettable. For next season, Bravo would be well advised to include a museum curator and someone from the academy (many of whom are also working artists) in order to provide a better representation of the art world contexts in which work must ultimately be successful.
Mr. Saltz,
I believe this was a poor opportunity for you—one you should probably have avoided. Practicing art criticism on TV is a great deal different than doing so in print. In print you can be (and are) far more lucid. The allowance of two hundred fifty to three hundred words is a luxury. When your criticism is confined to one or two lines, it has to be spot on. Yours wasn’t. Not ever. Furthermore, your needling of the contestants—“why not, why not, why not”—“defend your work, defend your work”—came across as faint, high-pitched, annoying, and completely absent of scholarship (and this should not be so insomuch as you are a professional critic with elite part-time educational affiliations—a professional [mind you] who travels, lectures and critiques grad students during one-on-one studio visits). Oddly enough, for me, this had the affect of likening you to a successful pro football walk-on—a player who proves himself in one position on the field without the standard collegiate experience or accomplishments. But, ask that player to play another position and his lack of formal training is evident. Next, judging from what I would term your cheeky comments in your blog at New York Magazine, you gave the impression—at least to me—that you were occasionally disappointed with the show. Again that, to me, is like the walk-on player whining about the team and play of the game after being invited to become a member of the team. Of course, you’re entitled to your opinion, as is anyone. Nevertheless I found your entire performance as a member of the cast to be disappointing. (Doesn’t Disney identify their theme park employees as “cast members?”)
Simon de Pury,
If I’m being honest, you were the most interesting person on Work of Art. When checking in with the artists your criticism seemed a little hesitant, but I actually understand this because I try not to redirect my students when providing feedback and direction on work in progress. Jerry Saltz called you a “poodle.” I’m not sure why, but I’m pretty sure he was simply being cheeky. I think you would have made a better judge than anyone else on the show. You, more than anyone, gave the show dignity. But, much like the act and concept of Rauschenberg’s “Erased de Kooning” you were erased by the antics of China Chow and Jerry Saltz. Should there be a second season I, for one, hope your role is expanded. In addition, you were always impeccably dressed, but not in a way that was distractingly ludicrous as was Ms. Chow.
Fin…
As quickly as it began, it is now over. I had a great time watching and writing. My shenanigans have come to an end, here, but I am inspired to continue on in my blog in conjunction with other art topics. I also enjoyed reading everyone else’s comments. What an extraordinary experience!
By the way, for those of you who have asked, my real name is Bruce Mackh.
Yours sincerely, L’Art
Monday, July 18, 2011
An introduction is in order
.
My name is Bruce M. Mackh. I hold a Ph.D. in Critical Studies and Fine Art Practice. I also hold an MFA and BFA in Studio art with a concentration in Photography.
As it always seems to come up, no my Ph.D. is not a practice-based degree or an honorary degree. It is strictly an academic and scholarly accomplishment, earned at Texas Tech University in the Fine Art Doctoral Program through the College of Visual and Performing Arts.
I wrote my dissertation on something I titled, "The Documentary Aesthetic." In short, documentary photography and it's status as art has (and still is) been aggressively contested. I, of course, claim that documentary photography qualifies as art if created or presented as such.
Though there were some bumps along the road in the earning of my Ph.D., I successfully graduated just this past May (2011).
Though documentary has been my focus, I'm not unfamiliar with others forms of art, theory, criticism philosophy and practice. It has been said of me (by others) that I have a particular passion for art. I would like to practice that passion here in this blog. So, that is my intention---to practice my passion.
To that end I dedicate this blog!
.
My name is Bruce M. Mackh. I hold a Ph.D. in Critical Studies and Fine Art Practice. I also hold an MFA and BFA in Studio art with a concentration in Photography.
As it always seems to come up, no my Ph.D. is not a practice-based degree or an honorary degree. It is strictly an academic and scholarly accomplishment, earned at Texas Tech University in the Fine Art Doctoral Program through the College of Visual and Performing Arts.
I wrote my dissertation on something I titled, "The Documentary Aesthetic." In short, documentary photography and it's status as art has (and still is) been aggressively contested. I, of course, claim that documentary photography qualifies as art if created or presented as such.
Though there were some bumps along the road in the earning of my Ph.D., I successfully graduated just this past May (2011).
Though documentary has been my focus, I'm not unfamiliar with others forms of art, theory, criticism philosophy and practice. It has been said of me (by others) that I have a particular passion for art. I would like to practice that passion here in this blog. So, that is my intention---to practice my passion.
To that end I dedicate this blog!
.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Theseus
.
As we are all aware, Theseus fought and overcame foes that were identified with stale, static, political, religious and archaic social order power structures---as well as defeating villains, thugs, tricksters and other ne're-do-wells in the course of his journeys and adventures.
Theseus....
I'm also on a journey and adventure in a land of stale, static, metaphorically religious and archaic social order power structures. Summoned and delivered into the breach I hold no sword...only a pen and--because we live in modern times--an electronic tablet no less miraculous than any mythological weapon ever conceived.
I'm ready. I've spent a good part of my life, and especially the past dozen years, preparing for this moment. There have been missteps, yes. Additionally, I've dealt with my share of tricksters, ne're-do-wells, thugs and villains along the way. And I know I'll encounter more. To them I say, beware! Look at me... I wear the scars collected from beating my head against many the stone wall patrolled and defended by aggressive boarder-patrolling moralizers. Scarred, yes..., but not defeated.
I'm no king..., but I am the son of a gentleman who was [in his own right] a prince.
The pen is mightier than the sword! Let's put it to the test...
As we are all aware, Theseus fought and overcame foes that were identified with stale, static, political, religious and archaic social order power structures---as well as defeating villains, thugs, tricksters and other ne're-do-wells in the course of his journeys and adventures.
Theseus....
I'm also on a journey and adventure in a land of stale, static, metaphorically religious and archaic social order power structures. Summoned and delivered into the breach I hold no sword...only a pen and--because we live in modern times--an electronic tablet no less miraculous than any mythological weapon ever conceived.
I'm ready. I've spent a good part of my life, and especially the past dozen years, preparing for this moment. There have been missteps, yes. Additionally, I've dealt with my share of tricksters, ne're-do-wells, thugs and villains along the way. And I know I'll encounter more. To them I say, beware! Look at me... I wear the scars collected from beating my head against many the stone wall patrolled and defended by aggressive boarder-patrolling moralizers. Scarred, yes..., but not defeated.
I'm no king..., but I am the son of a gentleman who was [in his own right] a prince.
The pen is mightier than the sword! Let's put it to the test...
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