Modern Kicks

girl trouble

I'm not exactly a fan of Dave Hickey, so I've been enjoying the comments here in which he gets roundly criticized, even if it did make me think, "Y'all postin' on a troll video."  While I haven't had a chance to read all of the thread on Hickey at simpleposie that comes up in the comments at AFC, I have to say I find the bits of it (on Hickey and feminist art) referred to intriguing, especially combined with Tom Moody's comment on one of Hickey's, um . . . is "straw men" the mot juste?  There's no doubt that, as various people point out, Hickey's annoyingly glib and given to untenable overstatements.  But all of this only makes me more intrigued to see what happens on October 6, when he's scheduled to give the Gail Silver Memorial Lecture at RISD.  It comes the Museum will have just opened its Lynda Benglis exhibition, with Hickey's lecture listed as part of the associated programming.  I don't know what his take on Benglis is, or if he'll even actually address the exhibition specifically.  But if anyone wanted to stir things up over feminism, contemporary art, and the art market, let alone sex toys, a Lynda Benglis retrospective at RISD seems like the perfect occasion.

UPDATE: Now that I've had a bit of coffee, I have to say that I can easily imagine Hickey fawning all over Benglis, or at the very least, her best-known moment.  And it would be very easy, depending on how he was inclined, to use that praise as a stick to beat whatever target he might choose among his many favorite hobby horses (uptight academics come to mind, but it might be more fun, given the setting, to go over museums and art students.)  I do wonder if he'll have anything to say about the actual work, especially that from later years.  I obviously haven't seen it yet myself, so I'd just say that I'm personally skeptical but ready to be convinced.

2ND UPDATE: Please see the comments below by the curator of contemporary art at RISD regarding Hickey's involvement with the Benglis catalogue, his lecture in October, and a forthcoming project of his on women artists.  They add valuable perspective to some of my own too-glib remarks above.  Should be an interesting event.

can you relate?

Apropos of nothing, I was struck by this passage from an interview with Hal Foster (via):

OH: Yet I think the problem is raised anew by new social art practices and relational aesthetics, art practices that are still very much concerned with the breakdown of boundaries between art and the everyday. How do you understand the curious persistence of that mission within contemporary art today? If that project is continued, what do you foresee as the repercussions for art as a specific genre of production?

HF: My sense is that one cannot decide once and for all between artistic autonomy and social embeddedness. It is a tension that should persist. Sometimes I am on the side of Adorno, and sometimes I am opposed. It depends on the situation. To me that is not opportunistic, it is simply being responsive. Even if the autonomy of art is always only semi-autonomy, it is important to insist on. Otherwise art becomes instrumental, which is problematic even if that means it is an instrument in the hands of progressive artists.

One thing that strikes me about relational art is that it treats art spaces like a last refuge of the social—as if social interaction had become so difficult or so depleted elsewhere that it could only happen in the vacated spaces of art. It was such a sad take on the state of sociability at large. I also felt that, for all its worthy attempt to work against the spectacular basis of contemporary art, there was a way in which it posed participation as a spectacle of its own. I suppose I am more interested in practices that use art as a guise or ruse for other practices altogether, such as pedagogy, say, or politics.

I suppose the easy joke here has to do with relational aesthetics being the last refuge of something, at the very least.  But I find the note of pathos Foster locates in it to be all too real, if not a recommendation of the practice.  I can't decide, though, if that sad take represents an actual comment on the state of sociability at large, a more narrow comment on state of sociability among those whose etiolated lives make relational aesthetics seem exciting, or (most likely, I fear) another burbling forth from a culture that, to borrow a phrase, fosters a form of assent which does not involve actual credence.

Lots more going on in the quote above and the interview as a whole, of course, to which I no doubt will never get.  I would note before leaving that I'm struck by the apparent (to me, at any rate--I may be wrong) contradiction between Foster's gentle insistence on the (semi!) autonomy of art and his professed greater interest in practices that use art as a guise or ruse.  A bit of a shift there.

a question for the googlebot

. . .  since the sitemeter indicates that it's the only regular visitor coming here these days (with good reason), though anyone else should feel free to chime in.  I'm going to New York soon, mostly for very boring reasons, but should have some free time.  What should I go see?  Right now I'm thinking Amy Sillman and Charline von Heyl, but what else?  Preferably not too far away from those two, although I could be convinced to ditch my current plans and work on something else entirely.  I should be hitting the Met and (I hope) the Frick at some point, at least briefly, and don't care to bother with the Guggenheim or MoMA on this trip.  Part of me feels like I should hit the Whitney Biennial, but the larger part feels that I'm going to have too little art viewing time to spend it on being dutiful.

If this post receives no comments, I will be very sad.

dilettanti theatricals

I've been reading a lot of blog posts about William Powhida.  Perhaps you have, too.  A few thoughts:

• I'd be ok if I didn't see anymore discussion, on anyone's part, of "insiders" and "outsiders."  It is, among other things, tiresome.  I suppose it would be more on point to note that it's a woefully oversimplified way of thinking, but that doesn't get at the pain such talk causes.

• Judging by the comments I've seen, Powhida (and Jade Townsend, don't forget him!)  is either our Daumier and/or our Hogarth, or it's utterly absurd to suggest he's our Daumier, our Hogarth.  It only raises the question, doesn't anyone here know the name of a caricaturist aside from Daumier or Hogarth?  C'mon, people, I thought we were the insiders.  Can someone give me a Gillray?  One of the Cruikshanks?  If you're feeling unkind, perhaps HB or one of his followers.  Try a little harder, please.

• I think some of Powhida's critics are perhaps overestimating how charming people must find it to be caricatured, what a thrill his targets must get out of being featured in the latest drawing that everyone's talking about.  Not everyone's actually all that keen on being part of the joke.  On the other hand there's this, so a little sneering might in order.

• One thing we can all agree on is this statement by the artist regarding his and Townsend's Hooverville: " Just don't miss the fact that you are pretty much fucked one way or another whether you're in this drawing or not."  Ain't it the truth?

hold your horses!

Flavorwire already had this, so I presume most have seen it already, but still: love it. Catchy, too.

two great tastes that taste great together

I'm talking about art and historiography, of course, the chocolate and peanut butter of the mind.  I was delighted to learn yesterday, via the Art History Newsletter, that the University of Glasgow has begun to publish The Journal of Art Historiography.  The first issue gets its Kunstgeschichte on with a focus on Viennese and German thought.  Warburg!  Riegl!  Novotny!  Just thinking about it makes me feel like . . . well, like I just ate a lot of chocolate and peanut butter and need to take a long nap.  More seriously, it's all very fascinating, if a bit heavy going at times.  The editors wisely put this interview (warning: pdf) with the late Michael Baxandall at the top, easing the reader in with a little lighter fare.  It's an engaging read, with citations that would provide a good reading list for an intro art history seminar on their own.  At times it's perhaps a bit too light or predictable (Baxandall liked Richard Wollheim, and admired Francis Haskell, though thought the latter went too far--more detail, please?), but one can't expect too much from a transcribed conversation, tantalizing though it may be.  And while I'd prefer that the journal published its articles on pages of their own and not as pdfs, I'm happy to see that they're up at all, and so I'll stop nitpicking and just be thankful for the free ice cream.  Or chocolate and peanut butter, as the case may be.

seen at the mfa

Just inside the Foster Gallery exhibition Contemporary Outlook: Seeing Songs, a Herb Ritts photograph of Michael Jackson.  At the top of the label next to it: "IN MEMORIAM."  'Cause his death, you know, hit the MFA right here.

(That was my favorite moment, as the Italians singing Madonna was my least.  But the exhibit only made me wish I had seen Visual Music a few years back, and that the catalog for it was not out of print.)

UPDATE:  Other museums looking to pay tribute, alert your acquisition committee now.

midweek links

A few things that have crossed my monitor screen recently:

- Anaba has the latest on Christoph Büchel's appeal in the MASS MoCA case, including links to the parties briefs.  I spent too much time on that story last year (or was it the year before?  It's all sort of hazy), but for the bitter-enders out there, follow the link.

- Via Martin at the last link, The Deaccessioning Blog.  This one also falls under the category of topics I've had enough of for a while, so not much comment from me.  Except this: I don't disagree with the stated "ideological bent" of the site--"an artwork may be deaccessioned, so long as certain legal and ethical requirements are met"--although when it's put that broadly, I'm not sure how many people actually do disagree.  Still, the implication of this list has me scratching my head.  The cancellation of various temporary exhibitions at museums provides a reason to favor deaccessioning?  Really?  I loves me a big loan show as much as the next visitor, but the idea that temporary, short-term programming should be funded out of proceeds gained from selling permanent collection works--it's hard to see what else the post could be taken to mean--seems to me a bit short-sighted, to say the least.

- I don't really want to be so churlish, but this is just silly, and that's the best I can say about it.

- "Bless Stouffer's."  In keeping with my current reading, a visit with Janet Lewis a few years before her death.

- Arthur Danto on a new book about Robert Ryman.

- A bit old, but a New York Review of Books piece on James Cuno, antiquities, etc.

- Art in America talks to Art Basel's Marc Spiegler.

- Greg Cook posits a history of New England Lowbrow, starts gathering the evidence.

And that's it for now.

recent acquisitions

So Franklin was recently describing some of his recent purchases from library sales in Boston.  Some nice things, very nice, to be sure--but I think I have him beat.  It's not exactly a fair contest--I had inside access to the book sale I went to before it was open to the public, and I'm afraid I spent more money than he likely did--but I still can't help but brag about the following:

The Glory of Byzantium.  Wanted this one for a while--the catalog to the Met's magisterial exhibition of . . . more than ten years ago?  How did that happen?  This one was a steal, at any rate, at only $3.

Pieter Saenredam, The Utrecht Work.  I'm not sure I would have bought this, as good as it looks, except it was a like-new hardcover and Saenredam had been on my mind, having been looking at a painting by him just the day before.  Plus, I once spent a couple of pleasurable days in Utrecht, mostly in the churches he painted.

Art & Architecture of India: Buddhist-Hindu-Jain.  An old Pelican, out of date, I'm sure, and in an area I know next to nothing about, but hey, it's got some pictures and is in hardcover.  It was also very cheap (50 cents?), if I remember correctly.

The Embarrassment of Riches: An Interpretation of Dutch Culture in the Golden Age.  The embarrassment of admitting I've never read this?  The embarrassment of buying it?  They had multiple copies, and it's probably entertaining.  Also very cheap.

Art and Architecture in Italy, 1600-1750.  An old, unrevised edition, but worthwhile nevertheless.

Along the Ancient Silk Routes: Central Asia Art from the West Berlin State Museums.  Excited about this--very Black Narcissus.  Since I read Foreign Devils on the Silk Road a few months back, it seemed like a natural.

Watteau, 1684-1721.  National Gallery exhibition catalog, huge, not much more to be said.  Only misgiving is that the binding is a little weak--have to be careful with it.  Still, only $7.

Edouard Manet and the Execution of Maximilian.  Before MoMA got there, Brown's Bell Gallery did this fine exhibition.  Paid a little too much for this one, but I was happy to find it.

Henri Matisse: The Early Years in Nice, 1916-1930.  Really have no idea if this is any good, but it has a lot of really good color reproductions, and I realized that there was very little Matisse in my life or my book collection (only one book on him, and it's a tiny Elderfield essay.)  At $3, why not?

There's more, including the stack of periodicals I mentioned in comments below, but the centerpiece has to be this: Agnes Mongan and Paul J. Sachs, Drawings in the Fogg Museum of Art: A Critical Catalogue.  First edition, 1940, three huge fat volumes in very good condition (aside from the dust jackets, which are somewhat soiled, crinkled, with small tears, I'd say excellent condition.)  I'm so excited, I took a bad cellphone photograph of them on my bookshelf.  Damn, even in that bad photograph that doesn't do them justice, they look good.  These did cost a bit of money, but far less than half of what Powells is selling them for (and their price is cheap compared to what I've seen it go for elsewhere.)  Needless to say, I am very excited about this one.  Now I just need the time to look at them.

There's some other stuff, but the one that excites me most is not an art book: The Selected Poems of Janet Lewis.  I've been reading about her poetry for more than a decade, so it's a pleasure to finally read the work itself.  More on that, I hope, to come.  But if you'll excuse me now, I've got to spend some time on the couch in my office with a few good books.

things ain't what they used to be

I was amused by the below, found in an article published in The Art Quarterly vol. 19 (Autumn 1956) on Detroit's St. Jerome in His Study attributed to Jan Van Eyck. As an explanation as to why the theory of W. R. Valentiner that the painting was started by Van Eyck and finished by Petrus Christus did not receive wide acceptance, the author offers this explanation:

Dr. Valentiner's lecture was given as the third after-dinner talk at the meeting of the College Art Association in New York in 1932, in the usual clatter and confusion that follows a hotel banquet. 

That's exactly how conferences always work for me!  Any remaining readers are invited to share their own stories of how their vital contributions to field were lost amid the port and cigars.  In the meantime, cue the Duke and Johnny Hodges: