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06/27/2005: "Art World Economics Part Two: The Current Crisis" by Andrew Wielawski
What does the term, 'fine art' really mean? Or, simply, 'art'? We can look it up in the dictionary, or study its etimology, and if we do, we'll find that today's meaning as we use it has lost most of its inheritance. If I tell you that originally, it meant 'master craftsmanship', would anyone jump up and deny such a lowly past? Like for a ball hit into the stands? And if a contemporary artist creates an image which through its title or through its context addresses contemporary issues without relying on craftsmanship, is it finer art than a pretty picture painted well academically?
This brings me back to a visit I made to the Tate in London, where I saw a bed with stained and rumpled sheets, and a full ashtray and an empty whiskey bottle next to it. On the walls were hundreds of Basquiatesque drawings, primitive, with words scribbled on them. Without me mentioning the artist's name, does the work still mean what it does when I do mention her? In this way, past works, shows, and reputation become an essential t of the single piece we view, and more importantly, establish the context within which we see the work. If a watch of similar quality doesn't say Rolex on it, then it has relatively little value. Using this concept, we can see how a relatively boring piece acquires eloquence and becomes profound if the ground on which it sits is well prepared. One of the basics in preparing the ground is the use of a good, organic fertilizer, and I'd say there's been a lot of that thrown around in the last half century.
I'd like to compare the art market to the tourism industry. Little jewels exist, then get discovered, overbuilt, and end up with many of the new hotel rooms empty. A crisis arrives. If many of the comments I've read here are any indication, we're in the middle of a crisis now.
Can you imagine the installation of a public work of art attracting nearly everyone who lived in the area? Not just politicians and business leaders bent on passing themselves off as culturally relevant, but butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers as well? Probably not. I suppose we as artists ought to ask ourselves why.
Talking with friends, I sometimes get the impression that the only reason the subject of art gets brought up at all is because they know that's my trade. It seems like they'd be talking about nearly anything else, be it computers, cars, politics, or the economy, if I weren't there. Face it, folks. With artists as common as BMWs on Beacon Hill, most people have simply lost interest in art.
The current glut is due to a steadily enlarging definition of what constitutes art, which now permits nearly anyone to call themselves an artist for nearly any activity. Three thousand five hundred years ago, the Greeks coined the phrase 'kali technics' , which meant, simply, 'good technique'. That's fine art. Look it up, and see where it comes from. 'Educating' a public that has neither the time nor the desire to let themselves be convinced that what they thought was trash, isn't, simply can't be done without lobotomizing them. To send a message out and have it received and of course understood, we have to raise the level of quality of what we do.
Should all of us who call ourselves artists stick with it and make things tougher for those few whose works ring clear and shine? I don't think so. Some of us, the weaker ones who aren't going to make it anyway, should get off this lifeboat before it goes down and takes all of us with it. Am I qualified to remain onboard? I have my doubts. I know why I do what I do, and how much is really there beneath the surface. But the hesitation which comes with doubt makes it difficult for me to make a decision. For me, art is my only source of money. I'd have to find another job. I like what I do, and it would be tough to find something else that I enjoy as much. Is this enough? Honestly, I don't know.
But I do think that teachers, starting in the sixties, made a mistake by encouraging too many people to go with art. 'Get in touch with your inner child', they said, 'everyone has something to express.' I disagree. Tell your inner child to grow up. Figure out what you really do best, and develop that instead of squeezing yourself into the role of 'artist' because it's definition is so elastic. Accept that only a few of us are really gifted, and give those people space and support. Imagine the sweeping dives and curves these birds could fly, if the sky weren't so cluttered with hot air balloons. By becoming t of the audience that real artists need, you'll contribute more to our culture that a thousand mediocre works ever could. Please don\'t use your need for a role, to the detriment of so many worthy people around you. Give your costly brushes and paints to someone you know has the talen!
Unfortunately, this diatribe hasn't a snowflake's chance in hell of working. The worst artists I know are the ones who work the hardest on creating the illusion of a belief in their mission. As such, we artists as a whole bear the blame for the current art crisis. What's worse, since many of us produce imitations of things requiring little or no skill to begin with, we become a second string supporting cast to art movements which would be utterly insignificant without a bunch of sycophants like us confirming their importance.
For some, art is a hobby. For others, ticularly the rich, a way of avoiding boredom. From both these groups, historically, a few (but not many) great artists have emerged. Coming this to sports, from which group have the most truly great sports heroes come? I'd say, from among the poor. Ambition driven by the knowledge that this was their only chance of rising out of the dust of poverty, made them give it everything they had. This is not true of most of us, and the public knows it. The reason the public is bored with art, is because most of us are boring.
We regurgitate the dogma of a whole variety of artistic periods, and haven't journeyed enough with our minds to be able to invent our own. It's not enough to see 'conceptualism' , say ' hey, sounds good' and jump on somebody else's bandwagon and wave their flag. It's not enough to memorize a bunch of cliches to become part of an artistic movement. The need to belong to a 'movement' is anathema to art. By following our instincts together with like minded others, we can create a movement, but seeing a movement first and then joining it is the essence of non-artist herd mentality. And indeed we have become a herd. What gives art strength is invention and innovation, and when those things come together out of chaos, in a flash, if the public is there, they won't forget it. And they won't be bored.
