Entries Categorised as 'Opinion'

Street Art Is Dead!

August 27th, 2011 · No Comments · Opinion

If Jonathan Jones’ opinion on Art as a whole even matters, then I have to say we are all screwed. Art as a medium of communication, conveyance, or anything else, as we know it, is dead! That’s because, in his summation, street art, and in my opinion, by proxy, anything less subversive, or alternative art forms, have become nothing more inspiring than a mortgage for a 2-up and 2-down in some suburban jungle of South-West London. As if the likes of David Cameron made the genre of “Street Art” fashionable by merely taking a sample of work by Eine to the White House as a gift from one nation to another. The reality is though, that Prime Minister Cameron rides nothing more than the crest of an existing wave, created by others, and that his rubber stamping of 1 specific artist, does not gloss over the credentials of the rest.

Jones’ published piece, Street Art is dying, is risible. The notion that Street Art’s acceptance by the middle class is simply killing it, is a joke. Banksy might have become a by-word for respectability, as has Eine with his shutterfronts & murals spelling out any number of words in the English Oxford dictionary, but many an artist, or rather “vandal” sits beyond this perimeter. The plethora of names to drag, kicking and screaming, out of the proverbial bag is enormous, perhaps even so long that Jones would be dead by the time it has finished being recited, but beyond this: what is dead about street art? I ask.

The kind of tripe that is written by Jones, can only come from the mouth of an individual who has no creative soul or emotional investment in any kind of art and who would find the likes of Dali too flaccid and Miro too evasive. Who knows, maybe he likes to kiss the arse of many a living artist, any of which should remain nameless for fear of being outed (with lipstick marks freshly imprinted on cheeks for evidence).

When was the last time any self-respecting middle-class wonk opened a broadsheet to find out about the latest in the world according to #streetart? As if middle-class broadsheet-o-meter was any indicator of the ‘decline’ of street art. By this projection, blockbuster shows by Titian and Turner, helping to fill the coffers of under-funded, under-valued and flagging institutions, not only represent truly dead artists, but also dead art forms.

The hubbub around these events that Jones simply dismisses as signs of a dying corpse may well not be in the printed media at large, but it has been covered by national/international television stations, and, more importantly in this day and age, it has cluttered up the inboxes, streams and feeds of those who actually care about these things. In fact, the event specifically referenced, #seenoevil in Bristol, was a collaboration not just between 60 street artists from around the world, but with the council, to try and improve the state of a apparently decaying part of Bristol, which will have major knock-on effects beyond the event itself that took place, and it’s Jones’ rather 2-dimensional and cock-eyed view that causes councils and communities to lose out on the potential opportunity of these things.

Street art may well not be what it once was. You can hardly blame it for the popularisation and spread of culture in a better connected world, but to claim it is dead and lacking in creativity is harsh:

Clearly there’s a fine line between street art and vandalism, and the defining lines appear to be the cheque book and/or expressed permission, but that being said, there will always remain an air of cool and respectability around defiance of the common marketplace and the culture of sell-out, and for every dozen Banksy’s there’s a legion of other street artists doing their work in dark corners at night. So if you don’t like what they do, you can find yet another soul plying his trade in the same field. And if you are still dissatisfied, you can jog on to the taxpayer funded institutions that hang work by many a dead fella. All that besides, perhaps before Jones goes pontificating on the longevity of Street Art, he should go about understanding the wider scene a little better, not least by picking up a book or two by Cedar Lewisohn.

To my mind, these events prove that street art is very much alive, kicking and taking no hostages. 50 somethings checking out the latest in the graff/street art scene might not be cool to Jones, but it’s a tad more accessible than Titian and his buddies, and generates better long term benefits for less money, and who is to say that’s not cool or representative of the death throws of street art.

All in all, Jones misses the point, and, in my rather brutal opinion, should really be demoted as some kind of “art” columnist for the Guardian newspaper.

100 Days of Our Dear Leader

August 19th, 2011 · 1 Comment · Opinion

It’s not very often that I pick up a book that isn’t by an American author and feel compelled to read it cover-to-cover, but such was the case with Patrick McGuinness’ The Last Hundred Days, currently long-listed, and soon hopefully short-listed and winner of the Man Booker Prize 2011. I have to say that this is probably one of the best books I have read in eons, and which, on top of its historical relevance and harsh realism, paints an exceedingly descriptive and lyrical picture of the very dark days in the twilight of the Romanian brand of East European communism and its ultimate failure.

We all think we know the story of 1989 and the drawing back of the Iron Curtain that fell across half of Europe after WWII, but do we really? To have lived it is to have experienced it, and few of us can say that. With the privilege of distant observers we can but only imagine, and if you think the fear instilled in the general population by the recent riots was something, then “you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

The book itself depicts a less than rosy view of every day life in Romania in the run up to the December revolution of 1989 that saw the cobbling but ruthless dictator, Nicolae Ceausescu, put down aside his hapless wife, Elena. It’s a book of a normality that makes you question everything. Nothing is ever what it seems, something that goes well beyond the bounds of the pure surveillance and torture, such are basic tools in a bastard regime run with ultimate fear. In the end you find yourself questioning even the actions of the most kindly Romanians.

The recurrent themes of boredom, duplicity, and self-interest pervade the book from beginning to end, the utter control and desecration of a culture is relentless, but where the book leaves off, come December 25th, 1989, you know is only the beginning of more of the same. The conductor and the orchestra change, but the people are forced to continue dancing to the same old music. After 50 years of cleptomania and ‘ineptocracy’, the sad fact is that it will take another 150 years to rectify political and social ills instilled by the misappropriation of the communist dream. This may be a work of fiction based on past events but the political agitators in it are very real, and ever present in the Romania of today, alas.

McGuinness has done an awe-inspiring job of capturing the sordid, decaying and disjointed “communist way of life” in Bucharest during the summer of ’89. McGuinness’ love for poetry and the written word as a whole shines through in his inimitable style and to fault him on certain aspects of his writing would be merely pedantic, and I am certainly not here to nit-pick!

The Last Hundred Days is timely in its printing, coming 20+ years since the revolution and last year’s appointment of Müller as Nobel Laureate. These are silos across the face of Romania’s revisionists, and a kick up the arse to generational amnesia. And to those who think that with revolution and change comes the benefit of democracy, it’s clear you are naive and blissful in your ignorance. This is a book that doubtless will never see the light of day in Romanian print, though one can but hope – the networks remain!

Thankfully, the vast majority of the book is set in the run up and focuses on the character development and events surrounding them, rather than the raw and pure facts of history. This is, for its own benefit, not a history textbook, and as with many a character in the book, you have to read between the lines, analysing the words and actions within the story and the insinuations of thereof rather than to take them at face value.

As you might well have gathered, I have nothing but good words for this book and I would recommend it to everyone! All that is left to say now is congratulations to Domnul Comrade McGuinness on this incredible work, and on his inclusion in the listing for this year’s Man Booker prize.

Good luck, and I hope you win!

Dollar Dreaming – Inside the Aboriginal Art World

June 16th, 2011 · No Comments · Opinion

As those that know me can attest, I have more than just a passing interest in Art, though what may be lesser known, is the fact that my late uncle, Andrew Crocker, was involved with the Aboriginal people of Australia and in particular with the Western Dessert Art Movement, during his tenure at Art Advisor to the Papunya Tula Artists company during the early 80′s.

It was therefore with great interest that I picked up Dollar Dreaming by Benjamin Genocchio and read it cover-to-cover this book, on a 6 hour return journey on my recent escapades in Turkey.

Inside the Aboriginal Art World

Visually well presented, the book takes the reader “inside the Aboriginal art world”, and, in a journalistic fashion, uncovers the events that made up the early days of the Aboriginal art scene, the individuals that shaped it, and the players that have most recently helped the Aboriginal art market to hit new highs as contemporary art, worldwide, knows no bounds with its stock market beating price increases.

As described by the publishers themselves:

Dollar Dreaming explores how the Aboriginal art movement, born of isolation and deprivation in one of the remotest and harshest places on earth, has in little more than thirty years become a newly minted coin in the international art market, with paintings being exhibited and collected in Paris, Los Angeles and New York. In pursuit of the story, the author travels to visit and interview those individuals who are living through this extraordinary period of evolution – artists, dealers, curators, collectors, fakers and auction house staff – to convey through their words and experiences how the art form, and the international market for Aboriginal art, came alive. Dollar Dreaming is an authoritative, engaging and sometimes funny account of Aboriginal art today from one of Australia’s most respected art critics.

Of course, it won’t have escaped the attention of many, that the prices of Australian Aboriginal artwork have gone stratospheric in the last 2 decades, whilst at the same time, it may have equally been noted that the plight of the Aboriginal people remains, in spite of the on-going, and highly lucrative, trade in their cultural heritage, but the book itself doesn’t profess to have answers to this fact, rather simply choosing to shine a light on the current and past episodes.

A Personal Perspective

From my point of view the story told is an interesting one, both personally, but also from the perspective of an artist and collector, focused on the burgeoning street art market. The book provides a nice counter-point to what I see happening in these parts with the urban fine art, and the involvement of various players in that process. The parallels that can be drawn are striking, from the early days and the outcasts, to the present day with even the most notorious agitants drawn in tight to the bosom of the art establishment.

Equally, the book is engaging, with a slew of stories along the way, Genocchio tells many an interesting tale, some of which had me cursing, whilst others had me laughing out loud, much to the bemusement of fellow travelers as we hurtled through the tunnels beneath London town on the final leg of my trip home. Who couldn’t resist laughing at the vision of Aborigines singing “Jesus loves men with hair on their chest” for months, as an unwitting missionary points to his chest to denote “Jesus loves ME” at the chorus of the respective hymn every Sunday.

All-in-all I found the book to be a worthwhile read, but it is also just one book in a series of books that you should be reading if you want to have a proper and well rounded understanding of the Aboriginal art scene and the ins-and-outs thereof: the internal conflicts of tradition and heritage, along side the external conflicts of self-interest and greed.

The book is super easy to read and no doubt could be picked up and put down chapter-to-chapter, without the need to worry about making it a quick read. It runs in stark contrast of style and vision to Vivien Johnson’s book Once Upon A Time in Papunya, which I am currently reading, but it does provide real insight and is of value to an outsider looking in, interested in an initial understanding of the scene and its protagonists.

UPDATE:

You can see Ben talk about the book here.

Detroit Lives!

May 26th, 2011 · No Comments · Opinion

I’ve written before about Detroit. More specifically about Julien Temple’s documentation Requiem for Detroit and natives’ responses to it. On the back of that I was shipped a linked to Palladium Boot’s latest in the Explorer Series Detroit Lives, an awesome 3 part series bringing the city to life in the here and now.

These 3 slices of life in the Motor City of today offer a real counter-balance to the dark and apocalyptic vision painted by Temple and by others. To quote the Palladium site:

Once the fourth-largest metropolis in America—some have called it the Death of the American Dream. Today, the young people of the Motor City are making it their own DIY paradise where rules are second to passion and creativity. They are creating the new Detroit on their own terms, against real adversity. We put our boots on and went exploring.

Knoxville ventures in and meets a veritable cast of passionate characters from young new upstarts – artist types and social entrepreneurs – to old school Detroit natives, who have seen the best and the worst of the city through many long decades.

Cutting through the patchwork of the city, as one expects, the film is back-dropped by the awesome sounds of the many amazing bands that have venture out from beyond the city limits over the years, and not just The Stooges and MC5, but more recently the amazing garage rock band, The Dirtbombs.

Anyhow, definitely worth checking out! Palladium Boots’ Detroit Exploration.

Graffiti, Modern Art and The Museum

May 18th, 2011 · 3 Comments · Opinion

I was warmed to see last night, Will Gompertz’s review on BBC Newsnight of the new Hepworth Museum in Nottingham. Although the architecture and the contents were awe inspiring, as is all good artwork, the main point of interest was the cold hard economics of the equation.

During the course of the piece, Gompertz talked about how the visitor count to the new Hepworth had been double the anticipated total, and that the majority of the new visitors had been “young” and “from the city”. Moreover, the new influx of visitors as a result of the £30M investment to the museum, had in the first year alone generated an estimated £8M to the local economy. In effect “Modern Art” was going to pay its way in under 4 years at that rate, assuming that the unabated success of the Hepworth merely stayed static, but with such good press, who could imagine that?

This kind of story explains the reasoning behind the slew of new modern and contemporary art institutions popping up all over the country, the first of which was likely the Baltic Centre in Newcastle, and most recently the Turner Contemporary in Margate, as well as the massive expansion of the Tate Modern in London. Clearly modern art “sells” in droves. We live in a cold, hard, capitalist economy, and when there is money to be made, even in the cultural sector, whose ethos isn’t to merely pander to populist demand, then it seems hard turn a blind eye, especially when councils the length and breadth of the nation need to cash in on something, and improve the long term prospects of their own localized and squeezed economy.

This, in a round-a-bout way brings me on to my favourite topic of street at and graffiti.

I think that the response to LA MOCA’s current exhibition Art in the Streets, is also real proof that there is a voracious appetite for contemporary art, and more importantly street culture and that again there is a real trick being missed by many institutions and galleries. The Banksy show in Bristol, the Cans Festival on Leake Street in London, the series of events organised by Mutate Britain, all “eaten for lunch” by a massive number of people, and yet street art, despite it’s slow ‘mainstream-ification’, though the likes of Banksy and Shepard Fairey continues to be vilified as the enfant terrible of contemporary art because of it’s association with graffiti.

It’s an interesting read, Cedar Lewisohn’s Abstract Graffiti, the only book on street art I have, as yet, purchased for myself based solely on its content, much as a piece of good artwork. He presents the case on both sides, on one part talking to the likes of Sweettoof and Futura 2000 about said topic, as well as the Honourable Judge Hardy, who himself has sent down a number of ‘offenders’, a process which only enhances the credibility of the graff-head! Maybe we should be putting their work galleries instead? hahaha

As street art and graffiti voyeurs and navel gazers, we consume our product in the streets. We are driven by passion and a love, though this seems to be at odds with everyone else, most of all the councils who spend time buffing walls at tax-payer’s expense, and the legal system who of course has an obligation to protect private property. Who could disagree? But when you have a plum opportunity to harness creativity and ‘legalise it’? Not only that, but to get the attention and the voice of the youth of today and reflect it back to other generations, then why sit on your arse and twiddle your thumbs?

I imagine that we will see our first million dollar Banksy in my lifetime. Pocket change, when Mister Damien Hirst will no doubt encrust enough diamonds on something to convince an erstwhile mug to part with the better part of 1 billion dollars and have no change left afterwards. No doubt a gallerist in New York is licking his very moist lips at the prospect of commission on that sale. But with all that said and done, even that million dollar price tag won’t buy immediate respectability for lesser mortals.

For each and every ‘graffeur’ who claims of sell out, every ‘good boy’ has to pay his way somehow, and when it’s a million times harder to rack your spray and the cost is exorbitant, then the option of “selling out” or earning a living from being an “artist” becomes a harsh reality. The business of street art is growing, perhaps in direct correlation to the number of ‘throw ups’ and ‘street art’ galleries. One thing is for sure, it’s certainly not going to go away any time soon, and the long term separation of it from “graffiti” and the acceptance of it as an means to improve and inspire people lives, both in the street, and in a gallery, will only compound year-on-year.

It has been a long journey to this point, started, though not conceived by the likes of Basquiat, Haring and others, though they ended up sidling up to respectability and modern art with our good friend “Andy” and we no longer view them as street artists. It seems a tad odd that we are, even now, still talking about street art as the outsider and that it still has a long way to go. Who knows maybe it hits a peak every time and then fades away, purely due to the resistance to the so-called ‘criminality’ of it.

Despite all the grand-standing by police and the right wing contingent around the LA MOCA facility hosting the street art exhibition, the figures again speak for themselves, and businesses are reaping the rewards thereof, not just of locals coming to the exhibit, but people flying through international airspace to go see it and spend their hard-earned dollars in doing so. Business is up ten-fold. Any good Republican would acquiesce and be heartened by that kind of pay day, even if they had to put up with a little excess graffiti in the ‘hood for a short while, something which city budget will pay to clean off anyhow. Let’s just call it the ‘cost of doing business’.

So there you go. I like to think that street art and its influence knows no bounds and is going to continue on an upward trajectory, even more so now that artists have their audiences in social networks and can side-step ignominy of selling out to a gallery, though even that comes one day as a practicality of wanting to remain a creative mind, not a business one.

I am looking forward to more art galleries, museums and the like jumping on the “Street Art Bandwagon” and helping the cause, if not themselves in the process.

Bristol here I come!