After work and after the gym sitting down to a simple meal of chicken and rice and beer, I turned on the television to search through the shows I had recorded and not yet watched. The DVR was almost full with reruns. I have to learn to turn off the "Record Series" function after the season is over. As I was playing around trying to figure things out, HBO was playing in the frame within a frame, and "The Artist is Present" was just beginning. I watched it. I have never paid much attention to performance art and may at one time in the past even have been hostile to it. But I was captivated by Marina Abramovic in this documentary of her career. And obvious in the film is that she has captivated others. The last part of the documentary is her three month long performance in which she sits in a chair twelve hours a day across from people chosen from the crowd who have come to watch her. There is a bit of the carnival sideshow aspect to it, and I couldn't help but think of Kafka's "The Hunger Artist" (full text). Still, I was appreciative of the visual aspect of what she was doing. The audience, however. . . well, there is always the problem. Ms. Abramovic comments on them in the film saying something about how many people are sad or confused or disturbed, and you can see that in the faces of those who come to sit before her. Filled with deep emotion, they smile through tears or simply let out some internal misery. But some--and they are the scary ones to me--look at her as if they have found a Messiah. And you know. . . like politics and religion, that's what art does.
So I've been hip deep in watching shows about the arts lately. And it makes me think of the dangers there. Art, whether I like it or not, is about finding an audience. Or, as is my recent situation, losing one.
Above is a picture of Beauty at Rest. Well, not rest exactly. Perhaps I should say Needing Rest. After living in the car for a week, a sidewalk table and a smokeon a busy street are as good as it gets. This is from my Gritty Glamor series. Other people's lives are endlessly fascinating.
Ah the territory I love -- the definitions of art or was it Art?
ReplyDeleteThere is a movie called Mona Lisa Smiles -- it probably bombed at the theaters. It stars Julia Roberts as Katherine Watson, an Art History teacher from California who finds herself teaching at 1950's Wellesley College. It has lots of cliches but it I watch it every time it is on.
Kirsten Dunst plays Betty Warren, snooty, snoty student (I've loved her ever since The Virgin Suicides - great soundtrack btw). Maggie Gyllenhall, Julia Stiles and Ginnifer Goodwin are also it (Mona Lisa Smiles) and I've been big fans of those three too.
You seem somewhat shaken by the "drop in numbers." I dunno, is it more important to have one or two readers/lookers who care about what you are saying/doing or masses who simply jump on a bandwagon just because?
I think of the endless stream of people winding in and out to see the Mona Lisa because it is that. And then those same who simply skip the brilliance and artistic attack of Olympia because she isn't as mainstream.
Susan Delacorte: [Katherine shows the class a painting of a rotting animal] What is that?
Katherine Watson: You tell me. "Carcass", by Soutine, 1925.
Susan Delacorte: It's not on the syllabus.
Katherine Watson: No it's not. Is it any good? Hm? C'mon, ladies, there's no wrong answer. There's also no textbook telling you what to think. It's not that easy, is it?
Betty Warren: Alright, no. It's not good. In fact, I wouldn't even call it art. It's grotesque.
Connie Baker: Is there a rule against art being grotesque?
Giselle Levy: I think there's something aggressive about it. And erotic.
Betty Warren: To you, everything is erotic.
Giselle Levy: Everything *is* erotic.
Susan Delacorte: Aren't there standards?
Betty Warren: Of course there are! Otherwise, a tacky velvet painting could be equated to a Rembrandt!
Connie Baker: Hey, my Uncle Ferdie has two tacky velvet paintings. He loves those clowns.
Betty Warren: There *are* standards! Technique, composition, color, even subject. So, if you're suggesting that rotted side of meat is art, much less *good* art, then what are we going to learn?
Katherine Watson: Just that. You have outlined our new syllabus, Betty, thank you. What is art? What makes it good or bad, and who decides?
[referring to a childlike drawing of a cow]
Katherine Watson: 25 years ago, someone thought this was brilliant.
Connie Baker: I can see that.
Betty Warren: Who?
Katherine Watson: My mother. I painted it for her birthday. Next slide. This is my mom. Is it art?
Susan Delacorte: It's a snapshot.
Katherine Watson: If I told you Ansel Adams had taken it, would that make a difference?
Betty Warren: Art isn't art until someone says it is.
Katherine Watson: It's art!
Betty Warren: The right people.
Katherine Watson: And who are they?
Despite your drop in popularity, CS --I still drop in and care what you've got going on. :)
Julia Roberts? No, no, no. I can't watch Julia Roberts. Are you sure?
ReplyDeleteNumbers. Maybe I'm just a Midnight Cowboy counting numbers (it is a novel by John Rechy). A numbers whore.
Or maybe I just want to be loved.
Roger Sterling is in it briefly too. I forgot that. No don't watch it.
ReplyDeleteBut I do remember reading something here about "Country Strong?" (which I have yet to watch).
What? Surely I said how terrible the movie was. Surely I didn't recommend it. And mostly, I'm sure I said I liked it.
ReplyDeleteI just can not watch Julia Roberts. It may be genetic.
I love Julia truth be told. We grew up together -- well, you know what I mean. I identified with her from the beginning of her career.
ReplyDeleteI think we started our Hinduism journeys around the same time too. She stuck with it -- I only kept meditation. Aw. I'm sad you can't watch her.
:)