Art has been evolving ever more quickly in the past couple decades. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder but popular art has been aiming, it seems, to catch the eye of a more and more select crowd of art enthusiasts.  The appeal of the roof of the Sistine Chapel, it seems, is almost universal, as are some latter 19th-century impressionists’ works, like Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” or “Starry Night.”  But we have reached a point where a canvas painted completely white is good enough to be hung in some well-respected museums. Even the most devoted art enthusiast could probably acknowledge the limited appeal of such a work. The question now is “where do we go from here?” Well, those paying attention may have noticed that we are currently in the nascent stages of era of “superartists.”

Art Magazine recently had a feature on two artists who are becoming famous throughout art circles and a bit outside of them. These two gentlemen are Olafur Eliasson and Takashi Marakami. Both of these people literally run art factories where art of their design is manufactured on an assembly line and sold. Clearly they are both very successful artists, but their “superartist” status has been conferred on them because they are true innovators in their field.  Art isn’t what it used to be; it’s been largely taken over by corporations who use it to advertise to us and create CG movies and cereal boxes and all sorts of different products. These superartists have taken full advantage of this environment and have created art that literally interweaves with other media. Both of them, for example have designed cars for major automotive companies: Murakami designed a prototype Nissan and Eliasson designed a prototype BMW.

The idea behind superartists is taking concepts of traditionally “low art” like T-Shirts, keychains, mousepads etc. and transforming them into “high art.”  Andy Warhol was one of the first to do this, but he was relatively limited in scope: prints and movies and maybe music (Velvet Underground perhaps?). The modern generation of superartists goes beyond this: they have turned the “culture industry” into “high art.”

The point is, traditional art has gone corporate: there will never be another Da Vinci, Rembrandt or Van Gogh. True artists have taken advantage of this fact like never before. The future of art is all too clear: only artists who can shape the overly-commercialized world in which we live to their whims will be noticed. These artists are trying to give meaning to the disposable culture brought upon by unbridled capitalism and as long as people are willing to give them a chance, they might just do it.

No matter what your view on the death penalty, it has to be said that some of the people put to death in the United States are simply insane.  Case in point: one Mr. Gene Hathorn, convicted in Texas in 1985 of killing his father, stepmother, and stepbrother.  He has made it his expressed wish that once he is executed, his body is to be turned into a work of art by artist Marco Evaristti.  Evaristti in turn has decided that his “work of art” will consist of one large goldfish tank with hundreds of fish inside.  Viewers may then feed the fish with food made out of Mr. Hathorn’s dead body.

Texas state law allows the person who is going to be executed to give his remains to someone of his choosing, and Mr. Hathorn has chosen Mr. Evarstti.  Great minds think alike, and minds that are a little bit stranger don’t think to differently either.  For reference, some of the other projects completed by this artist include putting goldfish in electric blenders and having patrons press the “on” button, and hosting a dinner party where he served meatballs made from the fat from his own body.

Who are the people going to these exhibitions? I’m imagining a skinhead who lives in a basement and tortures small animals (or something like the murderer from “Silence of the Lambs”) imagine a whole art show full of these people and that’s probably something like what these exhibitions are like. Not that I’ve ever been to one. No one’s going to “draw the line” because no one can. There’s no law against being a sick bastard unless you hurt someone physically (psychological torture is obviously fair game).

On the other hand, he’s certainly succeeding at getting people’s attention, and his cause is one that many people around the world would agree with: the ending of capital punishment. As long as it is a means to an end it’s a little more tolerable, i guess. Because sometimes art for art’s sake doesn’t work…yuck.

In the world of Art, the years between 1900 and 1999 constituted a time of change and innovation the likes of which had never been seen before, and I would guess it will be another couple centuries before we see art change as drastically as it did in the 20th century.  The ascent of modern, and then “post-modern” schools of art have polarized artists and art critics like never before.  One can imagine the controversy surrounding Pablo Picasso’s revolutionary Les Demoiselles d’Avignon when it was first hit the scene in 1907.  Modern art doesn’t necessary “look like” what it depicts.  But the beauty of art (one of the beauties, anyway) is that a million people can have as many opinions on a single work.  Just think about what art was before the 20th century. Is there really that radical of a difference between 17th and 18th century art when you look at more recent works? Even the difference between Medieval and Renaissance European art between the 14th and 15th centuries pales in comparison to the explosion of art styles that came into being during the first few decades of the 20th century.

Here’s the question: is art moving forwards, backwards, or sort of (to the side)?  We can see some of the oldest works of art still in existence: the Egyptian Pyramids, for example.  Has mankind really improved its art well past these monumental mausoleums built almost 5,000 years ago? Once we as humans started to become civilized, we have always had the need to express ourselves creatively. Sure, we are smarter now than we were thousands of years ago, in the sense that our scientific knowledge has advanced. But has our creativity “evolved” as well? Some might say yes, after so much art has been produced, we now know what creates the biggest emotional impacts. Some might say no, how could it? Creativity by its very nature cannot be bound by the past: it is spontaneous and inspired, limited only by technology.  Modern and now Post-Modern art both seem to take the latter view: anything goes, no conventions. A canvas covered in white paint is art whereas 100 years ago it would have been garbage.

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure

With another Olympic Games in the books (and what a Games it was!), I’m going to do the logical thing and take us back to the very beginning.  By that I mean, of course, that legendary opening ceremony that bewildered and dazzled us one and all, and deservedly so…or not? It’s perfectly clear that whoever designed, choreographed, and executed this ceremony (and I’m not saying it was all one person) is an artist, plain and simple.  This kind of vision doesn’t come along every day.  It doesn’t even come along every four years.  There’s no question that this ceremony took perfect coordination, and hours upon hours upon days upon months and months of labor and planning to pull off this two hour presentation.  Everything we saw on TV was a real visual treat and then some.

Except, maybe, for the “real” part.

As we all know by now, China went for a doctored effect during the fireworks display, computer generated effects abounded and when people found out, some probably couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that what they saw wasn’t “real.” Of course, one has to wonder about the authenticity of a pyrotechnic that stretches from the Forbidden City to the Olympic Stadium…that is one BIG firework.  I’m not saying that this is the only time China has tried to deceive us. Far from it.  We all remember those 12 year old girls doing backflips on the high beam.  But those fireworks are pretty shameless. They didn’t even TRY to cover it up (which I’m not sure is good or bad).

But from an artist’s perspective, it’s different.  It gives the visual artist an opportunity to design whatever he wants to be seen from a TV screen. It might not be seen by the couple hundred thousand actually present, but it sure was seen by over 50 million people watching worldwide.  In this case, the artist, one Mr. Cai Guo-Qiang designed a very creative concept: 29 footprint-shaped “fireworks” made their way from the edge of Beijing to the Stadium, a distance of 9.3 miles (Beijing represents the Games of the 29th Olympiad). So before everyone gets upset at China for being so image-conscious that they are no longer genuine (assuming they ever were), we should keep in mind that this is also the perfect opportunity for a very creative artist to get his work shown to essentially more people than he ever could anywhere else.  So call the Chinese Olympic Committee liars, cheaters and whatever else that’s coming to them but I think they deserve a bit of credit for maximizing the artistic potential of this ceremony. And at the end of the day, the opening (and closing) ceremony is about just that: art. There are no medals awarded; athletic activities are not the focus. So in that sense, China should be praised, not decried for presenting the TV audience with an outrageous fireworks display, real or not. A brilliant artist gets to show the world what he’s capable of. Is it really that important whether it’s “real” or not?

It’s really all in the spirit of the Games.

Think of the best and most well-known museums in the world and you’ll probably think of examples like the Louvre in Paris, the British Museum in London, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. We tend to overlook, however, that some of the world’s most precious and valuable works of art are not in these museums at all but in much smaller galleries in countries that are often overlooked when it comes to their contribution to the art world. Countries like Bangladesh, Thailand, and much of sub-Saharan Africa and Latin America are the birthplaces of some of the most spectacular art in history. A great deal of this art, however, is exhibited not in its home country but in another country in museums like the ones mentioned above. If you think about it, these countries are getting the short end of the stick in more ways than one. These smaller countries were all at one point owned by the great superpowers of the world and had much of their historical artistic legacy stripped. The quintessential example of this practice is the abundance of Egyptian art to be found in London. Great Britain, of course, could not be farther from Egypt in terms of culture and heritage, and even though Britain did once talk about Egypt as a colony or “protectorate,” those days are long over and yet Britain still houses the collection of Egyptian art that it unceremoniously confiscated and branded as its own.

Last year, a museum in Bangladesh generously loaned 180 pieces of art to the Musée Guimet in France. I would assume that Bangladesh thought it would benefit from this showing in a region of the world much more recognized as an artistic and cultural center as a sort of advertising; seeing what Bangladesh has to offer may spur Western tourists to that country itself. Keep in mind that Bangladesh is a developing country which needs all the money and attention it can get. It turns out that the Guimet had vastly under-insured the precious artifacts, some of which were crafted more than 1700 years ago. The museum had then planned to “lose” the works of art, pay the small insurance fee, and sell the works to other museums for much larger sums of money. Luckily this plot was discovered by the right people at the right time and prevented. But the smaller museums may not always be so lucky. As a developing country, a sense of shared culture and history is crucial to nation building and art from a bygone era is an important part of that project.

Personally, I think the way that smaller museums from smaller countries are being taken advantage of is an abomination to the purpose of art museums in the first place. Countries like Bangladesh are being screwed over in enough ways. Why does the art world have to get involved?

(information from ArtNewspaper)

Perhaps no painting captures the torture of existential angst as well as Edvard Munch’s “Shrik” (“The Scream”). One has to wonder if that was the emotion being felt by two masked thieves in 2004 when they broke into an art museum in Oslo, Norway to steal one version of Munch’s haunting depiction, apparently dating from around 1910. Two years later the piece was recovered by police and earlier this year it returned to the museum on permanent display, as good as new.

Almost.

Apparently the thieves were a little careless with the priceless work of art when stowing it away because it apparently showed some tears, scratches and humidity damage. The museum employees were then faced with a choice: leave the painting as it was, tears and all, or attempt a restoration which if successful, could take away most of the damage, but if unsuccessful, could hurt the painting even further. They elected to perform restoration on the whole canvas except for a small part of the lower left corner which they considered too risky to restore. Now when patrons visit the museum they see an almost perfect version of this classic, which was probably the best they could have hoped for given the circumstances. This begs the question: when is it worth it to perform a restoration? Several factors influence the decision of whether or not to undertake this act: the value and fame of the piece itself, the level of damage or pollution on the work, the length of time it would take to complete, and not insignificantly, the cost.

One of the more controversial restorations in recent memory was that of Leonardo Da Vinci’s last supper, which lasted from 1978 to 1999. The before and after differences are startling. In the 1970s, the painting’s appearance was unrecognizable. 21 years later, when the restoration was finished, it looked better, but…different. Colors, tones and facial shapes were altered to the point where some art historians claim it had become a different painting altogether. Of course, some wear and tear should be expected of a 500 year old painting, and no critic alive today is aware of how the painting originally looked. Restoration often includes some significant tampering and if something goes wrong, the world could lose a treasure. But this rarely happens. Today, restorations are done by very skilled professionals who know what’s at stake. It’s hard to imagine even the most hardcore art purist finding fault with the retouching of the Sphinx in early 20th century Egypt; after all, if steps hadn’t been taken to restore it, it would probably be unrecognizable today, not enjoyed by anyone at all.

The truth is that restoration may cause some irreversible changes to a classic work of art, which may not sit well with some art historians. However, most patrons would likely agree that slight to moderate alterations of the original work are well worth preventing the complete deterioration of these paintings. It just seems a bit selfish that we can enjoy a work 500 years after its completion and not do our part to help it last another half millennium.

A great man (OK, the mediocre Irish dramatist Brendan Behan) was once heard to remark “There’s no such thing as bad publicity except your own obituary.” While he may have had a point, some artists in any and all mediums have recently been taking this sentiment altogether the wrong way. Take the recently completed CCTV Headquarters in Beijing, China. I think it’s safe to say that there has never been a building quite like this one anywhere in the world. With globalization in full force, and China in the spotlight as a burgeoning economic superstar among nations, it’s only natural for the Chinese government to want to make as big of an impression as possible. Emerging superpowers have a habit of doing this: France did it with the Palace at Versailles, America did it with the Empire State Building. And though beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, it is my opinion that the CCTV building is a clear artistic success. But hate it or love it, that building will be turning heads for years to come.

I do have a few problems with it:

Architecture has the curious distinction of being the only major school of art that requires a practical use for the work or art itself, especially a skyscraper such as this one. The Eiffel Tower was famously derided by half of Paris when it was built in 1888 and now stands tall as the iconic symbol of France. The Eiffel Tower, however, was not built to house 25,000+ workers on a daily basis. The CCTV tower currently is at risk of collapse if a major earthquake hits Beijing (a city with high levels of seismic activity). It takes up an obscene amount of downtown Beijing office space, and it cost a mind-blowing $960 million dollars. I cannot say I have been in this tower but I would assume that getting from one section to another is far more difficult than in a standard skyscraper.

But we all have to suffer for our art, and I can imagine that architect Rem Koolhaas, who designed the project, has endured more than his share of abuse, as well as praise, for his vision. And though the building itself may present a few dangers and inconveniences to those who actually work in it, it has the potential to be as representative of modern China as the Great Wall is of the ancient. Just like every great work of architecture, its distinctiveness and innovation is what makes it so special. A hundred years from now we may be looking at China as the undisputed Superpower on the planet, with the CCTV Headquarters a glowing symbol of might. Just the potential for that kind of glory is reason enough for it to exist.

If it doesn’t get destroyed by an earthquake, that is.

I recently read The Art Newspaper’s Interview with Huang Yong Ping, whose travelling show is currently on view at the Kunsthallen Brandts in Odense.

In the interview, Huang Yong Ping expresses his general disinterest in the world at large. Reading the article, one imagines the Xiamen, China-born Huang Yong Ping to be practically asleep in his chair during the reporter’s questioning, waving away questions with a flick of the wrist. But really, what does one expect from one of the paramount figures in the Xiamen Dada movement whose incipient work bore the longwinded and noncommittal title of “The History of Chinese Painting and the History of Modern Western Art Washed in the Washing Machine for Two Minutes”?

A few of my favorite quotations from Huang Yong Ping from the Art Newspaper interview:

On his art: “I never feel strongly about anything.”

On the topic of the commercialized, mass-produced “fake” art currently garnering much funding and attention from foreign buyers in China: “By ignoring them they will die out naturally.”

On politics: “An artist should distance himself from power so that he can think independently.”

Although I must express my admiration for the above stated view on the right and necessity for an artist to think independently, reading this interview mainly made me think about how difficult it would be to host a dinner party full of dadaists. They would be so noncommittal.

One of my favorite art blogs for fresh art is FecalFace.com. I know I usually blog about the high-end side of art, FecalFace features some of San Francisco’s most talented young artists, and it is a great digital-meets-brutal interface. It seems like no one’s afraid of anything.

Norman Rockwell's 'Russian Schoolroom' (Courtesy: Las Vegas Sun)

Norman Rockwell’s “Russian Schoolroom” typifies the artist’s transition from the production of idealistic, dreamlike American scenes to then modern-day socio-political commentary. Today, the same painting has shifted in representation once again: now, “Russian Schoolroom” stands for modern greed and the ever-spinning, circular financial ramifications of art theft disputes.

The lithograph in question features a room of Russian schoolchildren (male) facing a bust of Lenin. It was produced in an era when the Cold War and the Russian Question in general were at the forefront of global consciousness–quite a leap from Rockwell’s characteristic happy-family-and-turkey productions for which he is mainly remembered in modern cultural recollection.

The plot began in 1968, when Jack Solomon, a lithograph company owner who worked with Rockwell during his heyday, purchased “Russian Schoolroom.” In 1973, after Solomon lent the piece to a gallery, it was stolen. In 1988 Judy Goffman Cutler bought the painting (and then sold it to director Steven Spielberg, whose assistant eventually discovered the stolen status of the painting).

“Russian Schoolroom”’s estimated value hovers around the figure of $700,000, but Cutler and Solomon have already collectively surpassed this amount in legal fees through their litigation. The painting is still in limbo, and the year-long argument over the piece seems to have taken over both of their lives.

Of course, art isn’t about monetary value. This Rockwell piece is a piece of history. But isn’t it also true that during the time this pair spends arguing over a piece of history, they are losing critical moments of history in their own lives?