Wednesday, 4 May 2011

Matthew Collings - "Beauty"

Collings, Matthew. (2002). Sarah Lucas. London: Tate Publishing.

Following yet another intriguing and refreshing discussion yesterday there are many avenues that I could continue down today though I am instead inclined to relate certain issues addressed in our conversation to the Sarah Lucas reading which I also found very interesting. Matthew Collings' article offers some good insights into the political, sexual and social commentaries that are apparent in the art practice of Sarah Lucas. Collings compares Lucas' art to the reputable novel Money by Martin Amis and hence suggests her work illustrates specific narratives about the drab sleaziness of the 80s-90s london lifestyle.

Lucas is a London-based artist responding to her environment and in this sense her work has an unavoidable social commentary. However, my appreciation of some of the Sarah Lucas quotes from the article brought me to reflect upon the art world's ability to act as a dictatorship. Lucas is quoted as saying, "There are times when I can get great pleasure from the works I've made, and feel great affection for them... there are other times when it just seems to me as dreary and as paltry as anyone else might think that something like two fried eggs on a table is. There are times when it just seems like, you know - 'What kind of a thing is this to be doing?'". This statement struck a loud chord with me in that it encapsulates the exact frustration that I so often feel as an artist who is simply responding to their inner urges to make. What I am implying here is that despite Lucas' obvious success in encapsulating ideas of an age, I suspect her practice is spawned by a much more instinctual thing. I am proposing that rather than producing some type of extremely well read critique on society that could not be debated from any angle, Lucas is simply responding to her environment by making stuff - that stuff being "art".

The self-doubt implied by Lucas' comment resonates with me as I have never felt inclined to make art that  blatantly references the issues that are generally associated as an important aspect of being a New Zealander. It is for this reason that I have often felt that the relevance of my work has been questioned. As one of many examples; time and again I have had paintings rejected from art competitions. Upon discussing this frustration with acquaintances, many have suggested that perhaps in the explanation section of my application form I should have created a spiel that related more to "underlying New Zealand issues".  Philip Guston described his frustration at the Abstract Expressionism's lack of underlying substance with these words; "American Abstract art is a lie, a sham, a cover-up... A mask to mask the fear of being oneself. A lie to cover up how bad one can be... It is an escape from the true feelings we have, from the 'raw' primitive feelings about the world - and us in it" (Guston, 1970, cited in Hatley, 2003, p.54). Philip Guston's anger towards what he saw as a farcical approach to making fashionable art is relative to my own frustrations about how quickly a New Zealand artist can gain exposure or credibility through competitions and so forth simply by referencing Maori carvings, NZ backyard humour or typically "kiwi" iconography.

My comparisons with Lucas and Guston are presumptuous given they are (or were in Guston's case, R.I.P) famous and respected artists and I am relatively unknown and unestablished, yet what I am referring to (which was a large area of discussion in the reading group) is the social pressures for one to conform to certain prescribed ideas of importance or alternatively risk ostricisation or misunderstanding.  The art world insists upon the capitalization of bogus identities of "kiwiness", being "clean and green" and loving rugby the same way New Zealand as a whole does. Dick Frizzel and Shane Cotton immediately come to mind as a couple who ruthlessly manipulate popular NZ icons and issues as a way of benefiting their own practices. Are these dudes setting up franchises or what?

Whereas Lucas' art fits within a viable pocket of a cosmopolitan city like London she may be left questioning whether making her work for the sheer love of it is a valid enough reason despite its critical success. On the flip-side I sit and ponder whether making my work on behalf of my own inner compulsion is valid enough given its socially unappealing subject matter within New Zealand. Despite all of this at the end of the day I'm bi-winning like my man Charlie Sheen and so is my work and anyone who doesn't like it can go kiss a duck.


References:


Hatley, P. (2003). Philip Guston: Retrospective. Fort Worth: Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth

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