Death of an artist
Now painting – that is a worthy “art”. None of that development nonsense, no plot lines or recapitulating like its lesser cousins.
Just beauty.
Colors work together – they compliment or clash or fight and convey but they don’t try to narrate, to explain. They just present.
I am.
Painting need not posit the existence of some hypothetical “time” nor justify its existence with some foolish motivic recurrence. It just colors the light and leaves well enough alone.
But looking at art is of course more difficult that creating it. How I tire of the phrase, “My kindergartener could have finger painted that.”
People should be arrested for scoffing at art they presume to understand – they should be put into art sensitivity class and taught respect for that which is incomprehensible.
The not-yet-understood is the greatest gift the Gods ever gave us.
Perhaps In the twentieth century prejudice against the new will eclipse prejudice against the misunderstood, both between people and thier creations, as the greatest moral transgression plaguing the world.
People will burn Mondrian – calling him pointless, cold, juvenile.
People will sacrifice those few artists who have an honest passion for inquiry and risk for safer, nicer smelling, paint-by-numbers dreck.
People will canonize such trivialities such as the “modern” orchestra, the “post-modern” movement, “futurist” architecture, while never noticing the pioneers of human discovery have abandoned their posts fortifying the cornerstone fortresses that have defined “art” for centuries. The pioneers of human decency have all moved on to frontiers no one can see but them. The pioneers of human existence will stage rescue missions to museums and come out with the art that will save our drowning civilization tucked under their arms and rolled up in their pant legs.
They will jump into windowless vans and speed away before the torch-bearing mobs arrive. They will be called “thieves” and “terrorists” and they will stash this worthless art in basements and attics and maybe smuggle it to Canada where those loyal to what it means to be human will rally and burn down the perfect buildings of public welfare and the pristine mausoleums of the artistic avant-garde.
“This is” will be their rally cry, and they will win.
I agree with what you have said. For some reason I think this may speak to you since we are like minded.
http://tercero.wordpress.com/a-first-sketch-manifesto/