19.aug.02 - The Art That Wasn't There

Cooper: “This is mine, I want to show it to you.” at Dorsch Gallery

The idea was to have the gallery contain limited-edition Chevrolet Impalas and their owners, Doberman Pinchers and their owners, and blues music in the background. But when I arrived, the gallery was empty. Mirage, a beautiful albino dobie, and her owner were milling around outside to escape the heat. So were most of the potential viewers. I heard conflicting reports about what happened but the following is close to the truth.

One Impala showed up. Several Dobermans showed up but two of them were too aggressive to be in the same room together. This spooked the others. The dobies, except Mirage, were taken home before something bad happened. Another Impala showed up. Then both left together, just in time for Elisa Turner, art critic for the Herald, to see them drive off.

At first, Cooper didn’t want to talk to me. Given what I’ve written in the past, I didn’t blame him. “You’re going to turn this into something verbose and twisted to your own agenda,” he said. His remark gives me the opportunity to introduce this site.

introduction

I’ve been out of print, actually and metaphorically, for a while. I was thinking about not writing anymore, and putting that creative energy into my painting. I was tired of seeing my own opinion on paper and on the computer screen, sounding sure of myself. I am not sure of myself. If anything I go around in an anxious haze of insecurity.

But I have a need to write, like I have a need to paint and draw. Aside from the people and animals I love, I care about art more than anything. I love seeing it done well, and I hate seeing it done badly. This site will allow me to express my thoughts about art in an informal format that I think will be helpful and entertaining to read.

The writing on this site is going to be terse and honest. I am going to be as clear-eyed and clear-tongued as I can. That is my answer to “verbose.”

Anything can be made into good art. Anything can be made into bad art. If we try to throw away good and bad, art will never reach the heights it has hit in its long and glorious history. People who make art should do it with all of their intelligence and life-force. We should use our eyes and say whether these people succeed or fail or do something in between. That is my agenda in its entirety.

and so

As for Cooper’s piece, a warehouse full of Chevy Impalas, waxed and arranged for display, with a dozen proud Doberman owners showing off their animals, on dog show stands perhaps, with the blues in the background, would have been cool. But that’s not what happened.

"Tough break," I said to Cooper. But in his opinion everything went fine. His idea, he explained, was to combine the elements and see what played out. What played out was inchoate. So there you go.

I went home, unmoved and disappointed. A scenario came into my head: I'm sitting in a restaurant. Everything on the menu looks delicious. The waiter comes over to my table. I place my order, but he shakes his head and says, "No, you don't understand. The menu is the meal." My empty stomach begins to growl.