Professional Documents
Culture Documents
knowledgeable observation
I will have to admit that the Bernard Berenson wording which first
and best described for me an aesthetic response was his phrase “life
enhancing”. The phrase, which I first encountered when I was in my
early twenties, meant something to me only intuitively. Somehow I knew
that those words were the key to the secret of a life based on the
aesthetic organization of sensual data. What this phrase did was to
suggest the connection between the neural structure of his (Berenson’s)
organism and the symbolic equivalent of it in graphic arrangement.
Decades ago there was, as I recall, a day time radio drama serial called
“Life Can Be Beautiful”, or something to that effect. I was too
disinterested in the lives of others to take a vicarious one in the fictional
characters that inhabited this kind of attention absorbing occupation
and I probably suspected that the covering title was also hypocritical
since most of the involvements most of the characters found themselves
in most of their waking lives were anything but beautiful and that this
expressed believe that “life can be beautiful” was truly an expression of
faith. There is something rather comforting in shared tears, however,
but that experience too is temporary, and the human being must move
on to something more completing than another’s sympathy. Perhaps,
what I have said elsewhere continues to be true, that the aesthetic life
has more to do with experience than experiencing the beautiful. The
aesthetic life must leave room for the horrible, the ghastly, ugly and
revolting, in short, we must be stirred. If life can be beautiful it is so
because it can feel itself in the process of living and that includes all
those other things as well as those, which we conventionally recognize as
beautiful…as from a distance, without the visceral involvement.
Marilyn Monroe
Marilyn Monroe
Film poster: showing Albert Finney (above) and Tom Courtenay (below)
Three of us went one time to see the film “The Crucible” directed by
the Danish film maker, Carl Theodore Dreyer of Arthur Miller’s “The
Crucible” where in one scene we see in a smokey haze in a lamp-lit room
the nude back of a chubby woman. All three of us, at once, uttered,
“Rembrandt”. This event convinced me of what was probably meant by
the term “a visual culture”. These are eidetic images which more or less
permanently inhabit our imaginative minds and when, and maybe only
when, we put them in context with other thought fragments, “memes” if
you will, are we assaulted by those responses we call an “aesthetic
experience”.
I am aware that what I have just written might suggest that I wish to
reduce the aesthetic experience to a somewhat mechanistic and basically
uncreative process. While this has certainly been accomplished
effectively most especially by many film makers* it has also been
successfully accomplished by such graphic artists as Andy Warhol, Roy
Lichtenstein and David Hockney and its auxiliary support structure art
critics, gallery owners and museum directors have given us at least a
half century of drossy schlock to which an ever increasingly ignorant
public has been willing to subject itself.
• There are exceptions, some of them notable, to this statement. This may be the place to
include, at least a reference to, the choices open to artisans, good or bad. When having
recognized that the profession in which one wishes to excel by some legitimate contribution,
or in which one has a considerable interest, actually functions on a hypocritical and deceitful
level, where advancement in the field is achieved by anything but the demonstration of
professionally admirable qualities one can be seriously inflicted with a form of malignant
creative impulse.
This is the sort of tragedy, I believe, may have happened to Lichtenstein, Warhol and not a
few others. It is, I believe, what may have happened to Howard Stern, the contemporary DJ
satirist author of “Private Parts” but he might have been able to turn his initial responses of
disappointment that his initial efforts had been rejected, if they had been, into a weapon of
sarcasm. It is this that may also have happened to Herta Wittgenstein, the Austrian cum
Santafean accused of art forgeries by high profile art dealers. INDEED! She did say to me
one time in response to a question of the legitimacy of an item that it was certainly as
genuine as what Gerry Peters, one of Santa Fe’s more high profile, but rather tasteless, art
dealers, had to offer. This remark was certainly able to cast doubt on the legitimacy of both.
One might also add, at this point, that such evilly unprofessional behavior occurs in fields
other than art production and art dealing. The horror about such behavior, which might be
called, in one of its more gentle terms, a form of dream fulfillment, is that the cost to
thousands upon thousands of people who have naively believed the self-promotional antics of
such people as Margarite Meade and Edward de Bono, respectively in the fields of
anthropology and psychology, have not been able to base their world view systems on
verifiable facts. I mention those two because I have witnessed their behaviors. The same can
be said of priests and politicians who buffet their egos at the expense of innocence.
Such a narcissistically oriented perception of one’s environment may also have influenced
the work of Doris Cross with whom I have had the frequent opportunity to discuss many
topics, note many comments, and to observe many responses, when she mildly urged me to
follow a line of work which she described as not being done by anyone else. Scroll down to
see the work of Doris Cross.
I said nothing at the time but did ask myself whether or not that is why I was willing to
spend my energies and resources on an effort that seemed primarily designed to entertain
others with some diversity or was the object of such creative work to enlarge my own
awareness, to expand my own boundaries. I, like Robert Frost, took the path less traveled by.
Roy Lichtenstein: “Grrrr”
The reason for this might well be related to the still vibrating remnants
of a nineteenth century culture which glorified the rewards of virtue,
moral, ethical and social, with promises of there being a prince
charming, cheers of popular recognition, and endless monetary
rewards and the results of belief and its associated expectations can be
seen retrospectively and most graphically in the lives of film stars and
entertainers such as Marilyn Munroe, Michael Jackson, and Liza
Minelli.
The revolution in the visual arts which occurred around 1850, and I
believe, the term “revolution” to be an appropriate one if it can be said
that prior to that period the primary motivating force for picture
making was to augment the self images of the ruling classes whether
they be civil or religious. Glory in battle, imperial in command, divine
in rulership and sensually seductive in its appropriation of nature, still
lives and landscapes.
Pablo Picasso:
Claude Monet: “Hunt”
Henri Matisse: “Conversaton”
In point of fact, Paul Cézanne’s contribution goes far beyond the uses to
which Braque and Picasso and since them scores, nay, hundreds, of
others have put them. In fact, what Cézanne has demonstrated was that
what mundanely passes for visual reality is only one particular order of
organization and that occultly beneath that order is a more fundamental
one which breaks down the perceptual differences and offers a more
holistic interpretation of relationships. This means, I would think, that
sufficiently broken down one might take these more elemental units and
rearrange them in any way we might think to try to do so.
The fact that Cezanne likely arrived at this intuitive grasp of a new
reality through his probable need for a more secure order of
relationships than his life’s circumstances had provided him is of
interest to the psychoanalyst, for sure, but also to the art critic for it
strongly suggests that the most creative practitioners are those who are
solving existential problems on what appears to be a symbolic level.
That is why, I believe, Cézanne said what he did about Monet “Monet is
only an eye, but what an eye.”
But, to be fair with the fellow, that misconception is not at home only in
Malta, but finds friendly lodging in Minneapolis, Minnesota as well,
even among those who have every advantage to know better such as
Dorothy Pillsbury Rood who had been married to a sculptor and
member of the faculty at the University of Minnesota as well as having
been born into a privileged family. She had had an opportunity to learn
something but it had been her choice not to. Accustomed to her position
of power and social prestige she chose to exert her will rather than her
intelligence… or her sensitivity. I have often wondered about her
reported death in a jeep accident in the Sahara for she was not a
comfortable person to be around.
Not all, as I have said above, aesthetic experiences are pleasant. In the
early sixties, I believe, there was an exhibition of six Italian artists at the
Minneapolis Institute of Art. I no longer remember who they were and,
it seems, I have misplaced the exhibition’s catalogue, but what I do
clearly remember is the unusually experience of having been drawn
irresistibly back and back again to one painting in particular which was
a heavily impastoed work in white, ochre, and sienna. It was not usual
in my experience to be so captivated by a piece and there was, I thought,
no indication of a subject matter that might explain the attraction. I just
loved that work. That is I loved it until after about the seventh or eighth
return when I suddenly discovered that it had a subject matter. After
discovering what that subject matter was, a very dirty public john, I
loathed the work and these two extreme responses to a work that did
not threaten me physically, but had traumatized me psychologically,
needed explanation.
I have seen several real and very dirty johns and have forgotten them
almost as soon as I stopped looking at them. But this unreal john I have
remembered in great detail after more than forty years. I have thought,
perhaps, that I loathed the work because of its having been the source of
my having been fooled somewhere along the line, but if that had really
been the case, why was it that I found the work so attractive to begin
with. I have no answer to this question, not even a psychoanalytic
hypothesis. I do have a theory, however, that is related to the role that
formal relationships play in the formulation of a work of art as opposed
to the chosen subject matter.
There are two works of sculpture which when they are compared offer
the observer some highly interesting material to consider. There are the
famous Apollo Belvedere and Michelangelo’s “slave”.
APOLLO BELVEDERE
MICHELANGELO’S “slave”
Aside from the fact that approximately one millennium separates these
two works there are other even more important differences to observe.
Primary among these differences is the fact that the Apollo is a finished
work and, it is supposed with good reason, that the Michelangelo is not.
Michelangelo was not allowed the time to finish.
The result, however, of these accidents of human events, and there are
two accidents involved in this scenario, is that we inheritors of these
accidents have been left with the accidentally appearing facts of the
absence of aesthetic judgment.
Today, by and large, and very much by and large, painting a marble
sculpture would be looked upon with speechless horror. The
contemporary vision of Greek sculpture does not allow it. While most of
the civilized world as well as the rest of the world that might have heard
something about the Greek contribution to cultural achievement have
accepted the image of Greek of white sculpture or architecture against a
bright blue Mediterranean sky. The very idea of that architecture or
sculpture being painted in bright colors is abhorrent. Such behavior is
acceptable from the Indians of the American Northwest with their totem
poles but not from the classical Greeks! In consequence, our aesthetic
perceptions are not only different from those of the creators of these
works, and that includes Michelangelo, but they are based on entirely
different perceptions from what the original creators had had.
At this point we might add that we do not know what Michelangelo
might have briefly seen as he passed a glance over this unfinished
“slave” with its dramatic morphalizing emergence out of stony chaos. It
is conceivable that he saw expressive potential in just such a
combination of “finished” “unfinished” surfaces but that it took
approximately another 500 years before that aesthetic would find
sufficient cultural support to allow the appearance of such works as the
following:
Rodin, “Gate of Hell” detail
This detail of Rodin’s “Gate of Hell” and the Marquette below illustrate
something of the way in which the mind of the creator works. Having
been aware of Ghiberti’s Baptistry doors at the Baptistry at Florence,
Italy, Rodin accepted the basic premise of a doorway and then
proceeded to radically rearrange the major structural components. The
idea of the doorway remains, but the structural order has given way to
a comprehensible illustration of disorder and (still controlled) chaos.
In this instance, then, it might be said that these evidences of how Rodin
proceeded were intentionally allowed to remain as testimony to his
willingness to have the observer becomes aware that his work was not
intended, as the Apollo Belvedere may have been, to convince the
observer of the supernatural reality of the image. If this conclusion is
correct it suggests that the society out of which The Apollo Belvedere
had been created was willing, if not exactly purposefully contriving, to
have a portion of the potential observers believe in the reality of the
supernatural figure’s existence. That is the sculpture is seen being the
supernatural figure and not a mere representation of it.
In its turn, such a conclusion allows the contemporary critic, the present
day observer, to understand that the aesthetic experience is more of a
dialogue between the creator and his viewer wherein the visual
concentration provided by the observer becomes the communication
venue, a form of visual question and response session, by which the
viewer reconstructs by way of his own particular understanding the
probably intended meaning of the creator. This process is more
respectful, as well as more demanding, of the process of aesthetic
communication than is the earlier Apollo which comes off more like a
fiat from the ruling classes directed toward the masses.
Rodin: “Gates of Hell”
Ghiberti: Doors of the Baptistry at Florence
It is in this light then that many of the more contemporary works must
be seen, that is, as items of visual aesthetic focus that become
opportunities for the development of visual awareness.
These Cycladic works, which precede all the other illustrations by about
4-5,000 years, especially the one on the left, present us with other
aesthetic considerations. There is no attempt in these, as there
obviously had been in the Apollo to show a beautiful human male and to
present him as a divine being. Here the figures appear to be quite
ordinary human being engaged in ordinary, somewhat ordinary,
activities, playing musical instruments. Even their gender is somewhat
in doubt so we might assume that sexual attraction was not an aim. It
might also be noted, and not so by-the-way, that the technical ability to
create sculpture with spaces between forms was present much earlier
than the appearance of the Apollo, but the sculptural concern in making
those spaces an integral part of the sculptured work did not, finally, and
fully consciously appear, until the work of Henry Moore in the 20th
century AD. This represents an aesthetic concern rarely noted, if ever, in
art critical and art historical comments, yet, it is of primary importance
in the development of an understanding of aesthetic development.
Arch of Constantine
I have wondered time and time again why it was I found Jim
Jarmusch’s film “Stranger than Paradise” so offensively banal and
came up with the conclusion it was because some other critical
commentators about this work had been praising it and leaving me with
no sense as to what the value they saw in it might be.
I resented having to give the matter more thought than what I thought it
was due. But there is a stubborn streak in my nature which encourages
sticking to a problem until some satisfying conclusion might be drawn.
Two other films came to mind. One was, I believe, Andy Warhol’s film
showing the United States’ flag flying for a 24-hour period. The other
was a film, entitled, I believe as well, “Conversation” by someone whose
name I do not recall, but the entire film was organized around a
restaurant conversation between two people. A conversation that lasted
the length of the feature film and exhibited no more action than camera
movement, and the hand and facial expressions of the actors. The
aesthetic problem was how to make such a film capture and keep the
attention of the audience. For me, it worked.
But this sort of lesson bears too much similarity to the benefits of
learning that a live electric burner can be dangerous if you touch it.
Perhaps from their experiences they judged that their audience needed
the punishment of boredom, kitch and vulgarity in order to become
reacquainted with their sensibilities. But I doubt it.
There were times, however, reflecting upon the significance of her work
I was tempted to call it “de—structionist”.
I know very little about the work she did before the time she asked me
to have supper with her in her apartment in Cedar Falls, Iowa. But
before that invitation was delivered she had been, at the urging and
assurance of a friend of mine and of hers, to rent my beautifully
furnished five bedroom Victorian house while I was away for two
months. The rental was a token $100.00 per month. After my return she
remained, somehow or other, another 6 weeks, meals included, before
she found the apartment she finally moved into. In appreciation for my
generosity she gave me an 8” square woolen weaving depicting the lion
of Judah she had somehow obtained…maybe from Israel through
someone else’s agency, that is, it had also been someone’s gift to her.
Over a plate of steamed string beans which was the extent of the supper
she served, she tried, sincerely, to explain the concept that was newly
emerging in her own mind. I believe it must have been our mutual
friend, Rolf Koppel, a photographer, and, like us, employed by the
University of Northern Iowa who had suggested to Doris that I might be
able to help her, somehow, to clarify that to which she was struggling to
give birth.
Well, the experience for me was as perplexing as the effort for Doris
seemed to be painful and frustrating. After three and a half hours I
walked the two blocks back to my house quite totally bewildered and
repeated several times to myself the question “What was that woman
trying to tell me?”
For a more complete picture the reader needs to know that for some
reason, perhaps organic, perhaps psychological, but certainly not
because of an absence of basic intelligence…for I have never known
Doris to be unintelligent, she was, however, unable to select the words
necessary to clarify, for the purposes of communication, the concept she
was developing.
It might have been three days later when all the pieces that had been
assembled regarding this enigma fell into a different order that I began
to have some insight into the meaning of that steamed bean encounter.
But this is often the way discoveries are made. All the details are there,
but they need to be rearranged in order for a new pattern to emerge.
In actuality this is what she had been trying to tell me, but both by
training and practice I was ill-equipped to allow the influence of occult
cabalistic practices to adulterate the pure science of western thought.
That expression is a mouth-full, I know, but it is true, that is, it is true in
so far as my attitude as concerned. I don’t think I should speak for all of
Western thought.
I would like to make it plain, however, that experience has also taught
me that while the strict adherence to the non-penetration of parametal
boundaries associated with a scientific procedure has its benefits the
exercise of a sensitive intuition has its as well. These have become for me
the cooperative wise sisters of awareness.
She gave me a clue one time as to how she viewed the artist’s position in
the complex system of the art world as we have come to know it in the
late twentieth century. I had been constructing a paper machee mask
for some event and got playful and started to fool around with some
paper toweling and flour paste and ended up with some Spanish moss-
like constructions about which she uttered what I had interpreted as an
encouraging comment. “No one else is doing anything like that.”
I made no reply but I was struck by the idea that being different might
just be the clue to notoriety if not success. Immediately, the conflict
between novelty and academic accomplishment rose up like the habitual
responses of traditional enemies and I had to contend with constructing
a truce, for a truce is all that can ever be made between them. The
analogy of the caterpillar to the steady forward march of human
civilization seems the best that literature can offer. The airborne
searching thrusts of the creature’s efforts are followed by the dragging
forward of the rear-end and the distant view of the caterpillar’s
expanded horizon for the brief moment his vision is elevated is sufficient
for the moving forward of the rear-end. Those rear feat are securely
fastened to the earth, or whatever, if the vision encountered by the lofty
and adventurous ambition of the head is at all uncertain. The front end
might flail around seeking some attachment but the rear-end stays
put…thus the creature survives until such time, that is, when, in a
cocoon dream state the caterpillar morphs into a being where the
horizons are seemingly unlimited and an unsteady horizon is of no
consequence. It is this state of being that also delights most observers
and gives man a view of a paradise where he feasts on nectar and honey.
The idea, however, that Doris had, at that time, in her seventy years
been searching for an image niche from which to attract the world’s
attention did not please me. How limiting I felt such a decision was.
For an earlier but very sincere, evaluation of Doris Cross’s work please
refer to the following article:
DORIS CROSS (this article first appeared in Art Voices South sometime in the late 1970’s)
By Paul Henrickson
Doris Cross, an artist resident in Santa Fe, New Mexico, does not follow the
still popular and rather stereotype romantic attitude toward subject matter
that has brought a kind of fame to the Southwest, and to the southwestern
artist---nor does she involve herself with Indian motifs so attractive to a
large segment of the public. In fact it would be accurate to say that even
against the background of the rich and multifaceted contemporary Santa Fe
scene, Cross’s work does stand out in very high relief.
In recent history there have been several creative innovators who have
made pictures out of words, or used words, letters, or other symbols
on the “body” of their works. Pablo Picasso, Kurt Schwitters, Stuart
Davis and George Braque, to mention a few. But with Cross the
results are different from all these, for the drawn pictures are not
illustrations to compliment a story line, nor is the text a caption for the
picture. Cross is not defining words nor is she intentionally making
“poetry”.
HOWEVER:
However, on the other hand were Cross to have made the same decision
because
she wished to expand her personal visual vocabulary that reason would
have legitimized the action. Having arrived at such a decision myself I
wondered what should have told me of my own structure of values. I
believe what it told me and, in fact, still does tell me, and that is that I
value the artists’ decision more than the decisions made by any audience
including those of practiced critics. It is, nevertheless, the audience
which, to a very great extent, decides the future of the artists’ work. It
still decides whose life efforts will be around in X number years. One
might wonder, in this connection, how many works have been given by
artists as gifts to friends and relatives and have remained, if they have
remained at all, rolled up in some dresser drawer waiting for some
singular form of recognition or the time when the artist might die and
discarding the work will cause no embarrassment.
By way of an example: I once was very generous with my sister and one
Christmas gave her a hand-woven blanket of exceptional quality, two
ceramic containers and a four-foot square painting that was anything
but forthright about its subject matter although the image itself was
strong. My sister hung it in her California family room for some time
until her four- year-old daughter announced, “Uncca Paul made a
naughty.” Only then did my adult sister, who had had more than the
usual amount of art training, recognize that there were there nude
figures in the piece. Her husband who held a Ph.D. in Mathematics
might be forgiven for his blindness.
When some months after my gift I visited again I found the work
leaning against the wall with its painted surface hidden from the
accidental gaze of any observer.
I was crushed by the callousness and the stupid devotion to local mores
regarding art and home “decorating”, but be that as it may, my sister
complained that in Southern California houses there were neither attics
nor cellars to “store away” unwanted items. I suggested they offer it to
the La Jolla Art museum. This they did and my brother-in-law, after
making sure I had established a monetary value for it, told me that that
year was the best tax relief year they had enjoyed.
I mention this anecdote now because that piece was one of the examples
in my personal aesthetic development where I had forced myself to
break out of a mold and, in so doing, had caterpillared my way a
measure or two and it also illustrates one of the premier values
emphasized in this essay, that is, progressive and exploratory change.
How one adjusts the cultural expectations held for a work of art to the
growth needs of the creator is a real issue for the art critic with which to
concern himself. Such a question is, I believe, the most consuming of
contemporary interests that involve aesthetic value judgments. Such a
concern may ultimately decide whether or not the status of the
community or the development of the individual is the more important.
The change from a black and white to a full color palette was not the
only change, however. In place of the two-dimensional patterning that
dominated the earlier works there was now a full three-dimensional
development and, added to these changes were yet a third which, if
subject matter be can justifiably considered an aesthetic change, major
or not, then the change from a forthright documentation of current
surroundings to the illustration of dream-like imagery must play a role
in our consideration of a developing aesthetic consciousness.
There is yet another artist from that period in Santa Fe, New Mexico
when and where I functioned as the art critic for The Santa Fe Reporter
and that is Bradford Smith, now know, by some as Bradford Hansen-
Smith.
One hundred and fifty years ago Paul Cézanne gave the world a
beautiful example of how the production of art can be used as a
barometer of psychic change.
I have recently been in touch with one Charles Thomsen who is,
apparently, one of the founders of a recently formed group called
“Stuckists” called so after a verbal fillip from a former wife (?) who
declared out of some frustration, it seems, with what she felt was a dead-
ender in terms of a significantly developing potential in the group’s
work.
Perhaps she felt, what I too felt, that while the verbal proclamations
could receive my wholehearted support and agreement the work they
produced was perplexingly devoid of meaning, except, in terms of the
behavior of a purposefully belligerent pre-adolescent.
There seems to be, in these days, a growing response to what can only be
called a dominating elite placed in power through the combined efforts
of the uninformed, perhaps the uninformable, who recognize only that
their efforts have been ignored by some establishment and, in response,
have recourse only to reaction. This may be the response that
Lichtenstein and Warhol had initially had when they launched their
notable artistic careers and iconoclastically intent styles. It is from their
remarkable social and financial success that a movement originating in
Britain (this may also be significant, by the way) called “Stuckism” may
now, and hopefully so for its adherents, be on its way to international
notoriety.
What is clear as well, is that they are miffed at not having been accepted
on the basis of their talents which are clearly related to the tradition of
Western Art and so, it appears, they are striking out at the
establishment which is acting in locus parentis and purposefully
behaving in an outrageous and hopefully offensive a manner.
I will grant them this, that while their products, that is those that are the
result of their frustration and disappointment in their talents not being
validated consensually, are of little value to me aesthetically, their verbal
expression which is the intellectual expression of their dissatisfaction is
extremely well-done.
They are worthy successors to Lichtenstein and Warhol, but that is their
major, if not the only, success they have achieved. It is a cheap way of
achieving satisfaction. It is not unlike masturbating in public as a way of
proving that one is a man.
The situation does, however, point up, or, at least, it should do so, that
the relationship between the productive artist and the art critic is a
symbiotic one. The art critic, I think, should be more than a recorder of
events, or a chronologist of influences, but an intensive participant in
the act of creation, for, at least in this sense; a work of art is not
complete until it receives a formative response. For a work of art to
become a participant in a culture it must be integrated into the social
fabric by means of discourse and repetitive viewing. There must be a
culture of interest.
It is very much more difficult to find and demonstrate a real solution to
a perceived problem and then, perhaps even more difficult, to get a
significant number of people to recognize that that solution is a real and
worthy one. But that is, as I see it, the only objective in engagement in
creative effort.
Out of the forgoing discussion has come the realization that there is a
real difference between the art of or the art that is supported by
political tyrannies and the art that develops in a laissez faire political
environment. A recurring concern, still not yet answered is how Nelson
Rockefeller, A Republican, could have been so supportive of some of the
more advanced art forms. Only in contrasting his interests with those of
the Soviets had this difference made sense. It seemed to me too pat,
much too generalized, a notion to accept the idea that Democrats were
democratic because they had an interest in the welfare of the common
man. Many of my experiences with some of them would indicate
otherwise. Likewise I could not accept the democrat characterization of
republicans as being monetary elitists. Nevertheless, when Nancy
Reagan selected art work for the White House and went to the bother to
select a new china service “so that everything would be uniform”, I
rethought the matter.
I had also rationalized that buying new china so that a mix of plates
might not be a problem for the person responsible for table settings.
After all, after 200 hundred years one might expect some plates to have
been broken. Nevertheless, the way the matter had been described in
whatever publication I read it did have a sort of special meaning for me.
When she was finally able to get Ron Jr. out of the ballet and into a
marriage the message finally came through loud and clear and my
sympathies for the human sacrifice to the god of common public opinion
went out quite unrestrained. That sort of behavior is always an error.
I haven’t read an explanation of what Bresjnev had in mind when he
was supposed to have advised Jaime Wyeth not to underestimate the
power of an image.
It is now nearly 400 years since the Pilgrims first landed on the
Massachusetts shores. The courage that brought them there, and not
without mishap and tragedy along the way, is a wonder. It is simply not
an everyday occurrence. These people were, to a great extent, already
prepared for the discipline of practical decision-making and continued
their courageous decision making well into the following years. It may
even be considered a practical matter to have made the decision to
found Harvard College eighteen years later. However, that decision
might be considered to have been somewhat tinged by aristocratic
coloring in that an educational enterprise is likely to generate changes
in attitude and differences in perception often encourage differences in
the perceived importance of occupations and hence in social levels.
Practical pursuits give way to aristocratic ones and the need to define
the proper employment of leisure. Consequently, and ultimately, we
have the observation made by Clement Greenberg at, I believe, an
address he gave at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo, in
which he, almost in an aside, mentions that the important characteristic
of an art product is not its subject matter or the absence of a subject
matter but the organization of the piece.
Greenberg did not stress this point to any significant degree. Perhaps,
he hoped the concept might sink in and at some future time its potential
meaning might emerge, enriched by the gestation process in the mind of
the listener.
In the work of N.C. Wyeth and Jaime Wyeth the presentation undergoes
no significant change when the subject matter changes. In their work
the technique has been mastered and will be applied without alteration
to whatever the pictorial problem.
What these examples, and many others, show us is that Albright had
developed an outstanding technical procedure and applied it to nearly
every work he did the subject of which, for the most part, was the least
attractive aspects of the human condition…decaying flesh, his own and
everyone else’s.
I could continue this process throughout the entire history and breadth
of the visual experience available to us, but it is best now, for the time
being, that I put an end to it.
Paul Henrickson
prh@tcp.com.mt
Dr. Henrickson has previously prepared an e-book, a CD, entitled “In Broad Daylight”
wherein he brings together the many learning experiences he encountered as the first art
critic for the weekly Santa Fe (New Mexico) Reporter. Those interested should email
inbroaddaylight@onvol.net for information.