Showing posts with label Virginia Grayson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Virginia Grayson. Show all posts

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Does Humility have a Role in the Art Market?

My profound thanks to Veronica Escudero, the talented creator of “A Painting A Day by Veronica Escudero” who recently really caught me off guard when she graced The Artist’s Muse with the Brilliante Weblog award. I am honored by this recognition as The Brilliante Weblog is a prize historically given to web sites and blogs that are creative and brilliant both in content and design.

Gifts are meant to be shared, so I’d like to award this prize to the following talents:


Over the years, I’ve discovered that artists, regardless of their medium, tend to fall into two classifications:
  1. Those who love everything they create and shamelessly promote their work, without any true sense of discernment; and
  2. Those who are hyper-critical of their work, hesitant to share their artistic expressions, and are self-effacing when accolades are received.
As a student of psychology, I’ve often wondered if humility is part of the creative process, as it encourages us to reach heights that complacency and pride might prohibit. The noble person must look first within, then to others for clues as to how one is actually progressing. I believe this is done by humbly assisting others with our abilities, while not denying our abilities and talents. Such humility is understood to “preserve the soul in tranquility; In the Bible, an exhortation to humility is found in Philippians 2:3-4

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.


David Packard, the co-founder of Hewlett-Packard, is quoted as saying: "You shouldn't gloat about anything you've done; you ought to keep going and find something better to do."

We are taught to take pride in our accomplishments, but pride functions successfully only when comparing yourself to others. It is folly to base one’s self-worth on how you stack up to others and their achievements. Instead, I believe it is wiser to focus on yourself and how you can improve. C.S. Lewis said the following about pride:

The point is that each person’s pride is in competition with everyone else’s pride. It is because I wanted to be the big noise at the party that I am so annoyed at someone else being the big noise. Two of a trade never agree. Now what you want to get clear is that Pride is essentially competitive-is competitive by its very nature-while the other vices are competitive only, so to speak, by accident. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or better-looking than others. If everyone else became equally rich, or clever, or good-looking, there would be nothing to be proud about. It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone.

The issue of pride, humility and competition has been a frequent topic in many conversations I’ve shared recently with fellow artists. Therefore, I thought it might be worthwhile to examine the concept of competition in the arts community.

In an essay published in 1994, A Dysfunctional Culture: Competition in Music, Rodney E. Miller, Dean of Wichita State University College of Fine Arts, articulated his theory that by eliminating competition in music education, co-operation and creativity is encouraged. Miller’s article leads with this sentiment,

For art to be art, it must be a reflection of our human condition. This is because art is ultimately a subjective sharing of emotion, usually emotion affected by or in response to the conditions in which the artist and the subject find themselves. Paradoxically, art very often becomes a casualty to the very social conditions it tries to reflect. One of the most insidious examples of this in our contemporary society is the obsession for competing that has permeated all venues of our society, including our artistic environment. Life for many of us in America has now evolved into a series of challenges to compete. We are bombarded with this doctrine at work, at school, and worst of all,, at home. It has become perhaps the only common thread in the diverse patchwork culture of American life. We hear it in our commercials (Pepsi vs. Coke in a taste test), in our politics (Republicans vs. Democrats), and in our recreation (Cowboys vs. Redskins). So saturated is our society with this spirit of competition that we allow its effects to go unchecked because we simply don’t recognize its existence, or worse yet, we fail to understand how it decays the very essence of art and creativity. Yet, as psychologist Elliot Aronson maintains, the prevailing spirit of competition is a dysfunction of epidemic proportions.

The spirit of competition is not uniquely American, nor is it restricted to the 9-5 business world, as Miller clearly demonstrated. However, to fully understand one’s strengths, it is helpful, if not vital, to understand your competition and your positioning in the market.

Many artists naively believe that they are exempt from these issues---that their “job” is simply to create works of art. Yet, they also worry about the financial realities of their experience as artists, often failing to consider critical questions such as “Who competes with you for your customers’ time and money? “and “What are their strengths and weaknesses? How are they positioned in the market?”

In other words, an artist should know how they are positioned in the market. Why do people buy your artwork instead of the others offered in the same general categories? Think about specific kinds of unique aspects of your work and audience, comparing where you think you can show the difference.

During the process of my contemplation on these issues, I explored the history of the Impressionists, PreRaphaelite artists and the Futurists with relationship to competition amongst each other. It’s a fascinating study that exceeds the limitations of this blog. One of the most important benefits I derived from the experience was reinforcement of my belief that only the best of my work should be seen by others.

When looking at the 4,000 pictures Pierre-Auguste Renoir left behind it is helpful to be aware that he actually was more prolific --- producing over 6,000 paintings during his active years as an artist. Although Renoir’s critical reputation has fluctuated throughout the years, the general populace continues to embrace Renoir’s paintings. He is a wildly uneven painter and one who often did not finish pictures.

In 1864, Pierre-Auguste Renoir had his first success with a painting entitled “Esmeralda Dancing with her Goat around a Fire Illuminating the Entire Crowd of Vagabonds --“the very first painting he had managed to show in the much coveted Paris Salon. Yet, in 1865, Renoir destroyed the painting and began a shift in his style. Later, he destroyed practically everything he had painted up to 1866.

While writing the post, The Booker, The Dobell and the Ultimate Prize, about Melbourne artist Virginia Grayson winning the 2008 Dobell Prize for Drawing for a for drawing she had struggled to produce, I was reminded of a letter Renoir wrote to his dealer, Durand-Ruel, in 1881: "I am not satisfied and I erase, I erase again..." In a similar sentiment in 1889 he refused to exhibit at the Exposition Universelle, declaring: "I find everything I do to be bad".

Many art critics have expressed their opinion that Renoir’s saccharine paintings are “too sweet”, and may even agree with Renoir’s insecure sense of his position in the art world. However, I believe this stems from a lack of understanding of his themes, as he once remarked, 'Why shouldn't art be pretty? There are enough unpleasant things in the world.'

Fortunately, Renoir did not destroy all of his work, and we have the opportunity to use his paintings to learn about the culture in which he lived .

The Phillips Collection, in Washington, D.C., was America’s first museum of modern art and is widely regarded as one of the world’s finest small museums. In 1923, Duncan Phillips purchased Pierre-Auguste Renoir's brilliant example of impressionism, Luncheon of the Boating Party (1880–81), which is now considered the museum’s best-known work.

In Britain, one can see Renoir’s masterpiece, La Loge, at the Courtland Gallery in London. La Loge was Renoir’s principal exhibit in the first Impressionist exhibition in Paris in 1874.

Renoir’s La Loge received enthusiastic reviews when it was first exhibited and later that year it traveled to London for an exhibition organized by his dealer Durand-Ruel, making it one of the first major Impressionist paintings to be shown in England. However, the painting did not sell at either exhibition and was bought inexpensively the following year by the minor dealer ‘Père’ Martin for 425 francs, providing Renoir with much needed funds to pay the rent.

Although he is best known for scenes of Parisian life such as La Moulin de la Galette and paintings of children and young women, his landscapes were nearly all created in the first two decades of his career, before he began to concentrate on figure painting. between 1865 and 1883. It’s been written that the young artist used landscapes to experiment. With innovative explorations of color and brushstroke.

As Nancy Ireson, a curator of Britain’s National Gallery, said concerning his landscapes: "There is a Renoir that we know, the chocolate box Renoir, and there is a secret Renoir. Renoir wasn't so keen on showing them, some were unfinished, and they wouldn't have commanded the same prices, but landscapes were absolutely integral to his life. In a way he used landscapes to test himself."

One of Renoir;s amazing landscape, Le Jardin d'essai à Alger (The Test Garden), was painted in Algeria in 1881. It now hangs in a private office at the Mirage casino in Las Vegas

Late in his life Renoir’s style underwent a significant change, his outlines becoming less defined and his works entirely softer, with stronger use of reds and oranges. This variation in technique was largely effected by his severe arthiritis

By 1913 he was partially disabled by a stroke, his limbs deformed by arthritis, and he had become frail and wheelchair-bound, his hands coiled inwards like claws. Renoir continued to paint, with a brush jammed between paralyzed fingers strapped with bandages to prevent the fingernails digging into his palms.. After expressing a desire to work in sculpture to his friend and dealer, Ambroise Vollard, he began to work with sculpture. According to the tale, In 1913 Vollard introduced Renoir to Richard Guino, a 20-year-old Catalan sculptor, at Spanish sculptor Aristide Maillol's studio, announcing, 'I have found your hands.' . From 1913 until 1918 Renoir and Guino worked together, mainly at Renoir's 100-acre estate, Les Collettes, in Cagnes-sur-Mer, creating about 37 sculptures, many based on Renoir's paintings. There were other assistants, after 1918 , when Guino stopped working with Renoir.

Had Renoir not destroyed well over 2000 paintings, I suspect his reputation as a master of Impressionism would be significantly questioned. Similarly, his foray into creating sculptures based on his earlier paintings, is only footnote in some art history books as his quality pieces of art were created much earlier. I think of artists such as Georgia O’Keefe and Renoir, who in their winter years turn to assistants such as Juan Hamilton, to complete their vision when their hands or eyes have failed. The issue of “ownership of creative rights” often becomes a legal issue, but perhaps it’s more than legal---it’s a moral issue.

In today’s commercially-cognizant art world, noted individuals, such as Jeff Koons, Dale Chihuly and Damien Hirst, have morphed the time-revered profession of “artist” into “marketing promoter.” The “art work” is not produced by their own hand, despite being entirely healthy and able to create their own work. Instead, a stable of artists are hired to produce pieces to be sold at auction and in high-street galleries. The artwork, however, doesn’t bear the name of the actual creator, but the “Brand name” of the audacious artist who has. employed others to create their works. The artists' names have become trade-marks, essentially brandnames no more significant to the concept of "originality" than a McDonald's hamburger on a bun.

Referring to the mass-produced spot paintings of Rachel Howard, that are sold as Damien Hirst originals, Hirst has said, “"The spots I painted are shite. The best person who ever painted spots for me was Rachel. She's brilliant. The best spot painting you can have by me is one painted by Rachel."

While addressing the factory-based production of Dale Chihuly’s work, the Portland Art Museum curator, Guenther, astutely stated "But at some point you lose faith in a production that is so distanced from the artist, from the creative mind that brought it out initially. At what point is there a loss of faith in the work and an erosion of the brand?"

Perhaps we’d do well to return to basics, take responsibility for our own work, assign only our own names to work we personally create, and use humility and discernment while determining which pieces “see the light of day.” Every work an artist creates is not a masterpiece, every poem a poet create is not forged in genius, and every book labored over by an author is not worthy of the lives of the trees that will showcase one’s words.

The consumer also has responsibility in this arena. While everyone cannot afford to purchase masterpieces by known artists, most individuals have the ability to purchase an original piece of art---not a giclee or an “edition”---but an original that bears the name of its actual creator. By selectively purchasing art, the excesses and deceptive marketing practices of Brand-names in the art world will be reduced, hitherto unknown artists will gain overdue recognition, and one’s “true” position in the marketplace will over-ride unhealthy competition fueled by greed and rampant consumerism . Through this revolutionary and shockingly simple process, art may, indeed, once again reflect the truth of the human condition.

Monday, September 8, 2008

The Booker, The Dobell and the Ultimate Prize


The greatest mystery is not that we have been flung at random between the profusion of matter and of the stars, but that within this prison we can draw from ourselves images powerful enough to deny our nothingness.
--Andre Malraux

In 2001, Graham Huggan published
The Postcolonial Exotic: Marketing the Margins, a scholarly book that examines some of the processes by which value is given to postcolonial works within their cultural field. He uses both literary-critical and sociological methods of analysis of the marketing of "products" for Western consumption.

Higgan’s postcolonial study includes a section on the Booker Prize, arguably the world's most important literary award which has the power to transform the fortunes of authors. The 1996 winner Graham Swift commented upon the import of the Booker thusly, "
Prizes don't make writers and writers don't write to win prizes, but in the near-glut of literary awards now on offer, the Booker remains special. It's the one which, if we're completely honest, we most covet."

Now in its 40th year, the prize attempts to reward the author of the best original full-length novel of the year, written in the English language, by a citizen of either the British Commonwealth of Nations or the Republic of Ireland.

Whilst discussing the impact and the history of the Booker Prize, Huggan advised,
Literary prizes have existed in one form or another for many centuries. . …..As state subsidies of the arts have dwindled, alarmingly in many countries, corporate sponsors have emerged to dominate the literary/artistic scene. [The Postcolonial Exotic, pg 105]

Indeed, such is the origin of the Booker Prize, established by the Booker McConnell company, a leading multinational agribusiness, who began sponsoring the event in 1968. In 2002, the administration of the prize was transferred to the Booker Prize Foundation. At that time, the title sponsor became the investment company Man Group, which opted to retain "Booker" as part of the official title of the prize. Although the official name of the award is the “Man Booker Prize for Fiction”, aficionados and the media alike simply refer to it as “the Booker.”

In previous years, the gala dinner, where the winner of the award is announced, was televised in the UK and the Commonwealth nations awaited the decision of the judges with baited breath and much learned debate. I vividly recall one year (1990) when a panel of writers inclusive of Germaine Greer discussed the books that had been shortlisted for the prize, and then did a post-mortem analysis, similar to the way political speeches are addressed by the political analysts and the media in the United States, and movies are dissected when awarded “Oscars”. In fact,
The Economist, a weekly news and international affairs publication, referred to this reception thusly," The {Booker} Prize has become a British institution, rather like Derby Day. "

Recently, there was an excellent article in
The Guardian which provided vignettes gleaned from the annual adjudication of the Booker prize winner. Even if you’re not a bibliophile, it is an enjoyable read, especially as you learn about the horse-trading, the tantrums, and the personality politics that contributed to the awards.

One of the most vocal losers of the award has been Salman Rushdie, when he lost to J. M. Coetzee from South Africa/Australia, author of
Disgrace. Allegedly, Rushdie, who had attended the ceremonial dinner, pounded the table in a rage upon hearing the announcement, and declared to all present that Coetzee was a “shitty winner.” This outrageous show of bad sportsmanship and poor command of language was despite the fact that in 1981 Salman Rushdie won the prize for Midnight's Children.

The reality is that winning an award is a vindication of hard work and most who “lose” feel a sense of disappointment, no matter what a polite smile on their face may attempt to convey. Yet, anyone who is nominated for a prize and loses can count themselves amongst a gallery of time-honored individuals. Review of the distinguished writers of the last century who have been overlooked for the Nobel Prize for Literature include Marcel Proust, James Joyce, Leo Tolstoy and Federico Garcia Lorca. One can also readily turn to celebrated movies that have failed to win the "Oscar" for Best Picture of the Year to see great movies unrecognized by the members of The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Here’s a short list of some of those films:
  • Citizen Kane
  • The Maltese Falcon
  • Raiders of the Lost Ark
  • North by Northwest
  • Citizen Kane
  • Vertigo
  • Star Wars
  • Some Like It Hot
  • The Wizard of Oz
  • Philadelphia
  • 2001: A Space Odyssey
Oddly enough, although he was nominated for five Best Director Oscars, enjoyed a career spanning 54 years, traversing 65 films, two continents and practically every technical revolution (silents, sound, color, 3D) and directed numerous movies now viewed as "classics", Alfred Hitchcock never won an award for Best Director in Oscar competition, although he was awarded the Irving Thalberg Memorial Award (for lifetime achievement) at the 1967 Oscars.

Ultimately, the evaluative process cannot be truly freed from ideological constraint. As humans, we have social agendas, personal biases, and cultural predilections and while we may try to consciously act impartially, these preferences will determine our concept of “excellence.”

My interest was engaged recently when it was announced at the Art Gallery of New South Wales that Melbourne artist Virginia Grayson is the winner of the 2008 Dobell Prize for Drawing for her work,
No conclusions drawn – self portrait. The Dobell is Australia’s most respected award for drawing

According to The Australian’s national arts writer, Corrie Perkin, “Speaking after the presentation at the Art Gallery of NSW, Grayson said she was shocked to win the award, named after one of the great figures in 20th-century Australian art, William Dobell.

"Recently I have decided I have to resist this desire to wipe out the work, to let it go, move onto another, and return to it later if the need is still there to do so.''

On September 5th, Louise Schwartzkoff, The Sydney Morning Herald, quoted Grayson as saying, "
Honestly, I don't feel like I've quite finished it," she said. "I always feel like there's something more to do. At one point near the end, I was ready to just erase myself and make it more abstract."

When I investigated further, I learned Grayson had also commented, "
I was becoming a bit too obsessive about it, and it just didn't seem to be working. . . . You want to keep a level of play and energy and looseness in the work, and I felt I was losing that. You feel like you're taking the virginity out of the paper if you muck around with it too much. For a minute, I thought about throwing it away."

How many times have other artists and writers experienced similar feelings of inadequacy and doubt? How often have artists and writers abandoned works of quality because of an inner voice that quelled the understanding that the work was “good enough” or ready to be seen by another? I suspect the answer to these questions is “far too often.”

Virginia Grayson, who has claimed that she drew a self portrait as she couldn’t afford a model and has spent the past few years working up the courage to submit her work for the first time to the Dobell Prize committee, should be a source of inspiration for us all. She should be commended, not just for the artistic recognition afforded by the Dobell, but for actively demonstrating how to slay the demons and ghosts of insecurity that haunt most artists and walking away victorious and untrammeled.

As many will attest, there is an intrinsic relationship between art and freedom. The art historian, André Malraux, examined the relationship between art, freedom and reality. For Malraux, the reality in question is not a vaguely defined ‘world in which we live’ nor a nebulous collective reality. All art, he argued, is essentially the individual’s response to a metaphysical reality. He believed the reality to which art responds is ‘the fundamental emotion man feels in the face of life, beginning with his own.’ He further elucidated that same emotion is our underlying and inherent sense of the arbitrariness and contingency of all things.

Gaining from Grayson's experience, and fully recognizing that we have arbitrarily created standards demanded of ourselves, we may start to learn how to confront our fears and empower ourselves, thereby effectively coping with negative emotions and becoming able to obtain greater inner and outer freedom. And maybe....just maybe.... great works of art won't find their way to the dust bin but will receive their due accolades.