Critics like Smee remind me of fictional character Anton Ego, featured the satirical Pixar gem: Ratatouille. Not only do such critics stop enjoying their work, they quite obviously stop "enjoying" much anything at all. In the movie he learns to return to what made him love art (or food) in the first place. Hopefully the same might happen for Smee some day. This critic's dead-end is not a universal destination of course, and many music/film/art critics quite clearly relish each new chance to find the beautiful, the bracing, or the inspired.
Picasso for all his personal faults strikes me as a fundamentally a person who lusted for Life in all its forms. He hungered for it yes, but he was not merely a Libertine aesthete: he produced and gave back all that he saw, all that experienced for as long as he lived. His prodigious output, perhaps equaled only by Bach in the realm of music (or Mozart if he'd lived longer) was a gift to the world.
Smee, of course, only matters as an illustration, among many, of the current state of affairs. What counts is not art as such but as a venue or a means to express, not to say broadcast, what is now considered not just proper but more or less mandatory. Cancel culture is not about options or debate or exploration; it's about enforcing the dogma of a certain orthodoxy, and it means business.
Apr 7, 2023·edited Apr 7, 2023Liked by Franklin Einspruch
I don't think Smee is nearly as concerned about Picasso or his work as he is about saying the "correct" things and not saying anything "incorrect." His piece is essentially useless, except as a form of confirmation or soothing comfort for his coreligionists. And yes, we're talking about religion, of sorts.
It's probably one of her least interesting works in fact. A few of her more sculptural pieces at least seem more engaged and energized. This one is like "graffiti art" for a wall at Urban Outfitters.
Mind you, I definitely don't regard Picasso as a demigod in personal terms. I only recognize his importance or relevance as an artist, and the work is the work. Alas, it is quite possible to be great at something and still be extremely dubious (if not worse) as a human being.
Critics like Smee remind me of fictional character Anton Ego, featured the satirical Pixar gem: Ratatouille. Not only do such critics stop enjoying their work, they quite obviously stop "enjoying" much anything at all. In the movie he learns to return to what made him love art (or food) in the first place. Hopefully the same might happen for Smee some day. This critic's dead-end is not a universal destination of course, and many music/film/art critics quite clearly relish each new chance to find the beautiful, the bracing, or the inspired.
Picasso for all his personal faults strikes me as a fundamentally a person who lusted for Life in all its forms. He hungered for it yes, but he was not merely a Libertine aesthete: he produced and gave back all that he saw, all that experienced for as long as he lived. His prodigious output, perhaps equaled only by Bach in the realm of music (or Mozart if he'd lived longer) was a gift to the world.
Smee, of course, only matters as an illustration, among many, of the current state of affairs. What counts is not art as such but as a venue or a means to express, not to say broadcast, what is now considered not just proper but more or less mandatory. Cancel culture is not about options or debate or exploration; it's about enforcing the dogma of a certain orthodoxy, and it means business.
I don't think Smee is nearly as concerned about Picasso or his work as he is about saying the "correct" things and not saying anything "incorrect." His piece is essentially useless, except as a form of confirmation or soothing comfort for his coreligionists. And yes, we're talking about religion, of sorts.
I'm glad I wasn't the only one to think "meh" about the Grosse mural.
It's probably one of her least interesting works in fact. A few of her more sculptural pieces at least seem more engaged and energized. This one is like "graffiti art" for a wall at Urban Outfitters.
It would make for very good wrapping paper, at least for gifts for males (sarc).
As for Whyte's need (real or assumed) for a "corrective" to Titian, sounds like he needs a laxative.
Mind you, I definitely don't regard Picasso as a demigod in personal terms. I only recognize his importance or relevance as an artist, and the work is the work. Alas, it is quite possible to be great at something and still be extremely dubious (if not worse) as a human being.