Art Thoughts in Tokyo
Heading out for my frequent dose of art exhibitions, I often encounter, encourage, or provoke discussions and hopefully heated debates about art.
by Jeffrey Chiedo
On Art
Heading out for my frequent dose of art exhibitions, I often encounter, encourage, or provoke discussions and hopefully heated debates about art. After all, isn’t that what art should do?
Since about 1991, I started keeping notes. Embarrassingly to myself, they are not so clean nor regularly entered; often they are stored in my noggin, but mulled over to find some sort of workable framework. Talking helps organize thoughts and sound out ideas. An objective is trying to figure out, “What is Art?” An early entry was, “Art is a space of desire; do not touch.“ Feel free to speculate how this one was drummed up, but despite the pleasurable phrase, it was temporal and could not linger. Duchamp, Mike Kelly, Paul McCarthy, Tadashi Kawamata, may not incite desire of possession or participation, while Isamu Noguchi and Carl Andre do invite transgression of physical interaction with this space. The list is long, but only a few contrary examples are needed to start anew.
After many illegible pages, but mostly crossed out starts, my current position is that Art cannot be defined forward. We can say what Art is not (yet). Sure, if we can call anything “art”, then the simple rejoinder, “but is it any good?” puts us back into perspective. As Art is ever evolving, a definition cannot be arrived. We can however, discuss what art does. For the last decade, this has sufficed, “Art expands our perceptions, understanding and interaction with the universe.”
I am not seeking “The New, “ when I venture out; I am seeking the well considered. I am seeking for a different way of regarding what either goes unnoticed, or in challenging how we think, or do not — an articulation that begets reconsideration; a vision that infects my very notion that I can no longer ignore what surrounds me. I am looking for artwork that has bounced around a while in the artists’ mind and studio, Artwork that has been grappled with and ideas that have been tossed to and fro, started, revised, erased, returned to, amended and reduced. A public perception skew is that much art looks easy, really though, working in the studio myself, or visiting others’, the exhibited works are just a small fraction of the work that went into making the show. It has survived critical scrutiny. The exhibition expresses the coherent direction that an artist is aiming towards. Art should expose connections, not obfuscate, but shrivel mysteries. Mysterious is reserved for tricksters and magicians. When the mystery is revealed, what remains? I hope we all are seeking more than a little entertainment.
When discussing portfolios with artists, too often the first response escaping my lips is, “You don’t read, do you?” It is always clear, from both the work and the discussion. When the images casually repeat themselves with minimal variation, well… much of the audience has moved on. There are some amazing exceptions though to this. The severity of Hiroshi Sugimoto’s Theaters, or Naoya Hatakeyama’s precise Shibuya River, the variation but intense looking that Toshio Shibata has sustained for over three decades with his basically singular topic are good examples of exceptions; artists working beyond a mere series. Singular as some of their projects are, they are well considered and reflective of reader’s depth. A reader tends to examine the artwork from many angles and considerations. Depth and breadth ensues. Conflict arises, and is employed by the artist to expand the discussion. The images move from illustration to Art, as questions flood and the work is less tidy. Most frequently, though the Artists are also conflicted by their own work. This is exciting. I do not look to art for resolution, for answers, but I do hope to be challenged and questioned. Artists with a range of pursuit tend to hold their audiences attention longer than a one trick pony, but Art that articulates its inquiry holds.
On Museums
Public museums deserve a certain level of exemption from the market due to inherent obligations to research and audience. Understandably museums need to reach certain viewership numbers, so questions of relevance and interest balanced to public needs — not necessarily desires — must be weighed. Entering each exhibition initial questions arise. Who is this for? Why is this here? What do we learn? How does this advance our perception and understanding of the artist, era or region? What relevance does this show have here? How do we exit enriched? Does the show and art live on in our heads? Is the exhibition carried over into the bookshop for further investigation, or are we presented mainly with just tchotchkes, scarves or teas, cookies and jams in what is now indicted with the label, gift-shop?
With The Old Masters, do the curators make the work relevant, or just something to be gawked at and noted in our grand checklist of pieces seen over a lifetime? Been there. Done that. Seen this; check! What is the cumulative value? Who are the people in the portraits? Who are the saints or patrons depicted? How do they matter to us? What were the conditions? What was the thinking at the time? Why so much B-R-O-W-N? Conspicuous points that make looking at a parade of paintings relevant and much less onerously dutiful. A viewer should engage and want to return with more questions and excitement. We might even recommend our friends. Obvious questions ought to be addressed like, who are these other artists, and what happened to them? Why are they here? Are they usually on display or in storage? If money and value issues get raised, a little direct honesty would be fun, engaging and memorable.
When looking at early-Modernism, be they Pre-Raphaelite’s, Turner, Whistler, etc., interest in distinctions arise. What about the roles of technology, travel, and trade? What was their reception like and why? How, when, and why has public perception shifted? Which artists were friends, or enemies, and why? A little gossip can be informative, and fun too. Are we given comprehension over what they were up against? Who holds the deluded notion that, artists all get along? So, please don’t put on airs of genteel politeness. Art is rarely polite. Art isn’t for the faint of heart, anyhow.
Solo retrospectives drive me nuts! In Tokyo they are without exemption presented as if he were a flower in the desert. Sui generis. Wow! There it is! The presentation is often so skewed, that discussion is rendered eye-rollingly mute. In Tokyo, who amongst the visitors know their circles? Jackson Pollock! Viola! The man working in isolation suddenly thunk it up. Josef Koudelka shouting out to no one but a distant audience. This list is very long. Both the artists and audience is poorly served.
In reality, artists are continuing and developing discussions. In reality, Artists who are cut off from others display strong evidence of talking to walls, while the others have moved on. Would it be more effective to evaluate Pollock in terms of issues of the time that buried the influence and discussion from his wife, Lee Krasner, or interaction with Helen Frankenthaler, other women? What about Clement Greenberg? What his interaction and development with Arshile Gorky, de Kooning, Rothko, Newman, and the development of American Abstract Expressionism, their fights, solidarity and differences? Why not broach the true impact of CIA and government involvement; too shy?
With contemporary artists’ inclusion, I have many questions, but most are less than honorable. How was this or these artists selected for Tokyo? Followed by, just who benefits? Lower ranking artists, prompt this line of linkage and more so, why a superior has not been shown. We are still waiting for something on On Kawara, and wonder why he has been so dismissed locally. In contemporary local, conventional use of paint — flatly applied to a rectangular canvas versus sculpted canvasses with innovative applications or definitions of paint, what happened to the lessons of Gutai? Were they not pretty enough? Where is the work of Elizabeth Murray, Lynda Benglis, Jessica Stockholder?
Artists before and between that could destroy the limitations of local oil painting programs while expanding the possibilities for the future of paint. Instead, we are stuck with conventional pictures by Marlene Dumas, or questionable, outdated, even if fun, fluff by Rebecca Horn. What exactly is their local relevance? Just what is the curator thinking? Does this merit a whole exhibition? Who is stifling the discussion? What are the criteria? The solo of a modeler photographer spiked questions of what about his peer James Casebere? Which one has a gallery just two kilometers away? What about working with ideas of models in photography with examples of Barbara Kaston, Satomi Shirai, Gregory Crewdson, Sarah Anne Johnson, Miwa Yanagi, et.al? Just what was the two-part show for Francis Alys about? If we look at him as performer, does the local art audience even know basic performance history? Sure it is cool, but the beginning question of “Why?” glares. Superlatives beg. Who are the overseers of the curators? Where are the critics? Can Tokyo be an art center? What needs to happen? For now we are left with brutal banality, so let us discuss honestly.
Originally published at ignition.co.
