You know when you are in the shower and, out of the blue, a drop of shampoo falls in your eye and you have an insight about an excellent title, but that it doesn’t have any context whatsoever? Like when you have this great idea, but there isn’t necessarily a job or a client behind it? You just had this speck of inspiration, and pencil in the idea in your Moleskine (or Evernote, or on the back of a receipt) ‘just in case’?
Yeah. I think that Contemporary Art (and by ‘contemporary’ I mean post-internet-art) is more and more like that. With a great insight (or just a boring one), translated into “art.” There isn’t research, blood, sweat or tears — trial or error behind it. There is no planning (pun intended) behind it.
“Artists” (who are as much as “artists” as I am a marketer) have a funny idea, put into paper (or on canvas, or on the wall, or –) and wait for someone (an “emerging gallery” or a “curator”) to validate it, and monetize that. But where is the juice? Where is the essence? Where is the “inner beauty”? It is art for Kanye West curate it and Kim Kardashian balance in her ass. Enough with paintings that look good with the couch; that is a great selfie background; that is full of mirror surfaces for narcissus see.
I want a Kiefer, and his works that look like dirt. I want Beuys and his craziness of living with a coyote. I want Richard Serra and his massive copper walls that don’t fit an Instagram square. Yes, art is beautiful. Art is cool, is hipster. Art is a bunch of hashtags that will bring you hundreds of new followers. But art is also thought, process, work. Artwork — it is work. Is not about having a cool idea and delegating it to assistants/slaves to execute it, nor is a free ticket to Art Basel Miami Beach. It is to educate. To take responsibility about what you are birthing into the world.
My eyes are precious. And time is money. And I don’t want to spend a minute nor a cent having to walk around your golden balloon dog statue. The “visual arts” are now plastified. Full of botox, liposuction, of taking ass fat and putting on the lips. Where are the Mad Men to fix that? Where is Dove ad campaign, for the “real beauty” in the arts? Give me something real, something raw, something ugly. Give me the truth, for christ sake.
Thank you, Koons, but I don’t want my art gift-wrapped.