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| Bob & Roberta Smith, 'We Need A New Counter Culture', Enamel On Board, 2012 |
My last post was partly an,
(admittedly fairly superficial), book review, and partly - a bit of woolly
political musing. Mostly though, it was
the externalisation of a debate I often have with myself about the temptations
of fatalistic cynicism over the deficiencies of human life, versus the belief
that numerous small, hopeful acts, however local or personal, might actually
make some difference in the world. It
ended with the hardly original notion, (sometimes cited by artists), that their
own creative practice is intrinsically a gesture of engaged positivity in the
world, - a kind of political act, if you will. This post extends that meditation and I can only apologise for its length.
In terms of overt political
engagement, I’ve never been sure about the advisability of artists polemically taking on the social order in their work, (even though I’ve edged toward it a
little myself, of late). In the
past, I’ve often told myself that an artist’s role should be to observe and comment
rather than to actively seek to affect change.
After all, if you were seriously engaged you’d be pursuing a career in
politics, volunteering at a food bank or doing pro-bono legal work, not mucking
about with paint, wouldn’t you?
Certainly, we could argue all
day, (in an anoraky way), over whether ‘The
Times They Are A- Changin’ or ‘Blood
On The Tracks’ is the more significant Bob Dylan Album, (occupying the two
extremes of a spectrum from Protest to the deeply personal). That’s before we even got into the subject of
whether any piece of protest art ever actually changed anything anyway. Actually, I think the issue is far subtler
than that. Anger over social iniquity,
and existential sorrow triggered by the failure of one’s marriage seem equally
valid emotions for a well-rounded personality to express in different
situations and mass politics is actually just the agglomeration of a million
personal stories, I suppose. Either way,
it’s probably the case that adding to different aspects of what nowadays is
often called ‘The Conversation’, is all any artist can aspire to, (but valuablel all the same).
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| Grayson Perry |
So maybe my internal debate
is more to do with one’s motivation rather than actually what one does. Perhaps it’s the difference between adopting
an ironic, disengaged, or purely venal attitude to one’s activities, or a
position of sincerity or authenticity, whatever the content. This is something I thought about while
listening to the artist, Grayson Perry deliver the ‘2013 BBC Reith Lectures’ on Radio 4 recently.
He’s a funny one,
Grayson, with his pantomime drag act, (just
where the amusingly kitsch flips over into the psychologically worrying); his
jokey persona; and a willingness to pop up in the media at any opportunity. It
would be easy to dismiss him as exactly the kind of hyper-ironic, publicity
driven careerist we’ve become used to in the post Duchamp/Warhol Art World. He certainly wasn’t afraid to ride the
lucrative YBA bandwagon of the late 90s/early 2000s, and to decorate his
trademark, (luxury item), ceramics with exactly the kind of dark psychosexual
imagery typical of that generation’s carefully marketed shock tactics.
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| Grayson Perry, 'Quotes From The Internet', Decorated Ceramic, 2005 |
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| Grayson Perry, 'We've Found The Body Of Your Child', Decorated Ceramic, 2000 |
Yet, whenever I hear Perry
speak, I’m surprised by how much genuine substance and apparent sincerity he
actually conveys. He’s an intelligent, engaging
and accessible communicator who can handle serious ideas without pomposity
or obscurantism; and someone seemingly possessed of a mission to inform,
entertain and enlighten as well as to shock.
He has talked with candour about his own difficulties growing up, and the
domestic turmoil which may have shaped both his public T.V. alter ego, (Claire),
and the disturbing content of some of his work.
He has also played an illuminating role in unpacking the linkages
between aesthetic taste and the seemingly unquenchable British class system;
and is never slow to prick the pomposity and numerous hypocrisies of the Art World
he himself inhabits.
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| Grayson Gets On His Bike |
Perry’s four Reith Lectures
had the overall title ‘Playing To The
Gallery’ and were his attempt to demystify various aspects of that world
for people who may find themselves baffled or alienated by its vagaries, (I’d certainly
include myself there, and I produce the stuff).
The subjects covered ranged from the mechanisms, power structures and
financial realities applying to contemporary art production and marketing, to
the philosophical and possible emotional motivations underpinning it. They were a typically entertaining listen but
I was particularly struck by how easily he was able to oscillate between being
cheerfully ironic and rather movingly sincere in tone.
The third lecture, entitled, ‘Nice Rebellion, Welcome In’ [1.], dealt with how the idea of
creative rebellion, or the notion of the Avant-Garde, relate to the
contemporary Art World. The idea of
successive revolutions in seeing and expressing, each sweeping away the last,
clearly no longer applies within modern art, and yet, somehow it still hangs
around as a cultural memory. Perry is
hardly the first to point out that even very early on in the progress of Modernism,
the Avant-Garde model was being undermined from within by the Duchampian dictum that anything
can be art.
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| Marcel Duchamp (As R Mutt), 'Fountain' (Replica), Readymade Urinal, 1917 |
It’s an attitude that gained
increasing purchase throughout the last century to the point that, for those on
the inside, it’s now entirely taken as read.
Arthur Danto has described this 'End State of Art’ as a kind of
multiculturalism in which all shades of possible opinion or expression coexist
with equal validity [2.]. This notion that anything goes in Art may
still be an impediment for a few, but in all honesty, can anyone really maintain
a convincing posture of shock at any artistic manoevre, when mass digital media
remind us daily that all forms of once transgressive behaviour can now be
routine leisure activities?
"And if you think about it, all the things that were once seen as subversive and dangerous like tattoos and piercings and drugs and interracial sex, fetishism, all these things - they sort of crop up on X Factor now on a Saturday night on family viewing. (LAUGHTER) The one thing you won't see though: underarm hair. (LAUGHTER) The last truly dangerous thing." [3.].
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| Yves Klein, 'The Monotone Symphony' (Anthropometrie), Performance Event, 1960 |
In that context, abstract
painting, welded metal sculpture, ready-made objects, blank videos or visceral
(or scatological) performances can no longer be seen as ground breaking or
revolutionary. The most they can expect
to raise is a mild frisson, - the pleasurable thrill of affront. The obvious danger of all this is that we all
become increasingly jaded and yes, cynical, in our approaches to producing and
assimilating artwork. How often do even those
of us who really care about Art find themselves briefly glancing around a
gallery, mentally categorising the work on display, (“Ah yes, - in the tradition
of Alternative Taxidermy”), before sloping off to the bookshop or café? Can we be surprised if new generations of
artists respond accordingly, tailoring their output to engage with whichever
taboos are currently most marketable?
Let’s face it; much of the output of the YBA artists, with which Perry was
sometimes associated, could be placed in that category, if we’re honest. Butchered livestock, bodily fluids, Myra Hindley,
mutilated children; - Charles Saatchi bought (and sold) it all. (Please don’t think I don’t get rewards from
some of that work, but we do need to be realistic).
"And the creative rebel - they like to think they're sticking it to the man, they're sticking it to the capitalist system, and you know they're really show…like one of them Occupy protesters. But of course what they don't realise - by being all inventive and creative, they're actually playing into the capitalism's hands because the lifeblood of capitalism is new ideas. They need new stuff to sell! You know people are going to get bored of the old stuff." [4.].
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| Marcus Harvey, 'Myra', Painted Childrens' Handprints on Canvas, 1995 |
And
so, nothing could encourage the kind of detached, ironic stance so prevalent
within Art nowadays, more than the sense that this desensitised, mock rebellion
has become just another marketable commodity.
Despite all that, Grayson reveals his own shameful secret, - a desire for sincerity or authenticity as art experiences.
“Me, I have to sort of protect
myself against this because when I’m out in the evening and I’m with my mates
and I’m being terribly cynical and ironic; but when I want to look at art, I
want to have a sincere one to one experience with it because I am a serious
artist. I’ve dedicated my life to it. So I go to exhibitions in the morning on
my own when I can go, hmn, and you know maybe have a little bit of a moment.
(LAUGHTER) I have to protect my tender parts from that wicked irony.” [5.].
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| Grayson Perry's Teddy Bear, Alan Measles |
Just maybe, sincerity or
authenticity might be the only truly radical postures left for an artist to
adopt these days and, as Perry points out, may certainly be the qualities they need to make their work. Of
course, even ‘realness’ can become another marketable USP, but it does seem to
me that sincerity of motivation, (rather than, necessarily, of content), is the
only thing that could even hope to distinguish Art from anything else that
might be designated as purely ‘product’, (these days, it’s necessary to include information within the larger category of product, of course). It’s impossible for artworks not to function partially
as saleable merchandise, but essential, I think, for it to retain its other function,
as a branch of Philosophy, if it's to endure as a distinct activity.
Ironically, in his final lecture Perry suggested that had he not been an artist, he might have gone
into Advertising, [6.]. Perhaps he was being flippant again, but I’m
encouraged to see that he stuck to the less cynical path he actually chose. The most important idea I took from his Reith
Lectures was, that there is still, (just about), something that distinguishes Art, as a separate practice, from the other transactions or discourse in which we may participate. It feels like it's still worth adhering to
such a course.
[1.],
[3], [4.], [5.]: Grayson Perry, ‘Nice Rebellion, Welcome In’, BBC Reith
Lectures 2013, Lecture 3, The Guildhall, Derry-Londonderry, Broadcast: BBC
Radio 4, 29.10.13.
[2.]: Arthur C. Danto, ‘After The End Of Art: Contemporary Art And The Pale Of History (The A.
W. Mellon Lectures In The Fine Arts)’, Princeton N.J., Princeton University
Press, 1998.
[6.]: Grayson Perry, ‘I Found Myself In The Art World’, BBC Reith Lectures 2013, Lecture
4, Central St. Martins College, London, Broadcast: BBC Radio 4, 05.11.13.
