Art Comment! - the experiment...

So, at the weekend I finally decided it was time to actualise a project I've been imagining for some time called 'Art Comment!'. The idea was to make a series of two minute films which would consist of me sprinting around London and standing around outside art galleries attempting to pretend to be a critic. Sort of like a critique of the critics... I wanted it to be quite impromptu and experimental, and so hadn't scripted these short sequences.

The idea for 'Art Comment!' stemmed from an interest in how art is discussed in the mass media, and consequently how/why the public are encouraged to see certain exhibitions etc. over others. I wanted to attempt to make my own sort of mini art reportage, and see if I could ever find a place for myself as an acclaimed art orator like Andrew Graham-Dixon or Matthew Collings or Brian Sewell (note: why are they all men??). In addition, I wanted to try and make sense of the meaning of art (!!!) in my own head, namely by focussing on what was happening in these galleries, while being brutally personal about myself and my own feelings, and then also looking at what was on the front page of the newspaper on that particular day. I suppose I was hoping to sort of reveal things in a new way; a grand attempt I know!

We (my brother Joe and I) began in the Southbank Centre, moving on to Trafalgar Square where a protest was going on. The protest was being made by amateur photographers under the slogan 'We are photographers, not terrorists'. From there we gadded over to a pub in Russell Square before heading to the British Museum. The journey finished back at the Southbank Centre where we had tickets to see Circus Klezmer which was part of the London Mime Festival. Although I'm embarrassed of the short films we did make, I feel that they were vital experiments for me all the same. I found that I lost all notion of why I wanted to do this project or what the ultimate point was as soon as the camera was on me, and I struggled to keep going throughout the day. Nevertheless, as a first attempt and as a series of experiments I hope that they might prove useful in helping me find my voice.

Please go to the YouTube links above to view some of these attempts...

How to be an Artist in a Material World

Must art be shocking to be good? Walking around the Jeff Koons’ exhibit at Tate Modern’s recent ‘Pop Life’ exhibition I found myself pondering this long-standing question. Koons’ multi-million dollar artist room, ‘Made in Heaven’, is comprised of a series of canvases and sculptures which immortalize the artist and his wife – the Italian porn star and politician known as La Cicciolina – having sex.
Possibly more unnerving than Koons’ facial expression is the fact that the Tate, an internationally renowned arts institution, has deemed such art culturally significant for our time. In more ways than one the ‘Pop Life: Art in a Material World’ exhibition leaves a bitter after-taste. Considering that the buzz words of 2009 were ‘recession’ and ‘the climate crisis’, the fragility of the ‘material world’ is more present than ever in our minds. Yet as emerging creatives, we are all too aware that art’s significance is still founded on economic value. This is exacerbated by our tireless completion of funding applications and eagerness to work for free in galleries and performance venues; we are entering a culture industry that places money-making above creative ingenuity.

To shock is not enough anymore. Art in possession of the ‘shock factor’ has lost its panache if it finds itself in a cordoned-off ‘over-18’s only’ room in the Tate Modern. The concept of ‘shock’ in art is exactly what must be questioned and contradicted if we are to achieve any creative credibility now.
But have I been too quick to judge? Is ‘Made in Heaven’ something more than cynical self-merchandising or sheer bravado? Perhaps, after all, Koons’ enigma lies at the heart of his success. It has been said that the artist deliberately rejects hidden meaning in his work, preferring to make grand statements such as “I don’t believe in judgements” and “I believe in the intensity of life”[1]. As he mockingly uses these empty profundities and adopts the quintessential rôle of ‘artiste’, he emphasizes the relentless struggle for meaning in contemporary art. Possibly this is exactly the kind of artist’s mentality we should strive to have: part charlatan, part mystery. We think we can see what Koons has to offer, but in the obviousness of ‘Made in Heaven’ lies the suggestive idea that: “the greater a chameleon something is, the greater its possibilities”[2]. The brazen banality of the artworks emphasize this point: there must be more to art than this.

The unsung hero is Koons’ ex-wife La Cicciolina. Not only is she unofficially credited with establishing one of Europe’s first green parties, but she used her overt sexuality in 1987 to gain a seat in the notoriously patriarchal Italian parliament. Claiming “I am a combative woman”, she offered to have sex with Saddam Hussein if he agreed to free European hostages during the Gulf war in the early 90s.

Ultimately, Koons and Cicciolina inspire a new question: for creative and financial success in these times, is it necessary to lose one’s morals and embrace your market?

[1] ‘From Popeye to Puppies: Jeff Koons explains his love of outrageous art’, Times Online, June 13 2009
[2] Ibid

Does the world need another writer? Another artist? Another struggling poet? Does the world need me? These are the kind of redundant questions I'm asking now, whilst in my frustration at relentless job searching, writing application after application, and getting nowhere. 'Do I want this job anyway?' I keep asking myself. 'Or should I not just disappear off abroad and find work on a barge/kibbutz/refugee camp?'

It has dawned on me that it is almost impossible not to be overtly self-aware in England. Everywhere I look I'm being encouraged to strive - to strive for beauty, thinness, fun, friends, the job of my dreams, the holiday of my dreams, the boyfriend of my dreams etc. etc.

Watching Channel 4 news coverage last night of the earthquake in Haiti is numbing. How do we take this information in? The fact that possibly 100,000 people have been killed. The fact that no aid is getting there quick enough, and the fact that the Americans are already discussing this as an opportunity to improve their waning status on the world stage. The late Harold Pinter, in his Nobel Prize speech, spoke big words: words such as 'conscience' and 'social morality'. He said we had forgotten the need to support one another. But who is in charge to ensure that this need is met?

And in the midst of all this I put the washing out on the radiators and mop the kitchen floor and listen to Florence and the Machine playing on Xfm. How can you relate from worlds apart? How can I feel more useful? That is a selfish question, surely.