1) Camnitzer’s words seem to have left a bitter taste in many mouths this week – my own included. Let me first preface my reflection with an admission of admiration for his strong writing style, sure-footed presentation, and simple gall in the submission of this work for publication. Let me continue by criticizing the unorganized rant demonizing a completely sense-ridden cycle that has accompanied humankind since we first became artists.
Of course artists are defined somewhat by their technical processes. Though Camnitzer views it as “conceptually wrong” (1) to be too concerned with process, it is just as crippling to be too concerned with concept. The artistic process – as we have defined it for millennia – tends to produce material results. While I agree that sacrificing freedom of expression because media makes it more complicated to achieve a certain aesthetic is “wrong,” I also believe that the challenge this situation puts forth is particularly stimulating. If a certain aesthetic goal can be achieved through several processes – etching, drawing, and Photoshop, for example – the fact that the end product looks the same does not mean that they are the same. The product of the artistic process is only the destination, and as I remember, getting there is half the fun.
If patrons and collectors wanted art simply because it looks pretty, they would Google, click, and print from their home offices without any of the bother or expense of “fine art.” However, art is not simply a stimulus for aesthetic reaction (unless you are a Modernist). It is a dialogue between human beings that have perhaps been separated by space and time. For example, Camnitzer seems upset that the prices of those “pseudoproletarian collector items, signed by Warhol and Lichtenstein” surpass his own (3). This is because the value that the collector sees in the work is not based on aesthetics or even craft, but on the social, political, and cultural interactions that act as influences and channels for the artists’ communication.
Perhaps Camnitzer has got his head out of the acid tank, but he hasn’t yet got it out of the self-righteous studio.
2) Hokusai did not let this shit get him down. He thrived within his printmaking media because he consciously existed within his cultural status as an artist and simply made. And made. And made. Sure, he might have been a little crazy, but he was willing to keep up with the times by interacting with other artists, updating his style, employing a workshop, and even changing his name. Several times.
The illustrative woodblock prints of Hokusai are incredibly inspiring to me because of their unique color palettes, intricate details, and overall pleasing aesthetic. Additionally, the interplay between the prints and the poems that they were meant to accompany are incredibly clever, riddled with riddles, and demonstrate that ever-so-important interaction between artist and environment. Hokusai did not keep his head in Camnitzer’s acid tank, but instead made an effort to reach out to poets, intellectuals, and artists of his time and of times to come.
Example: He interacts with the novelist Rokujuen and his character, Suminawa, by illustrating the realistically carved cockerel that Suminawa has created in a confrontation with a live bird. Pretty sweet.
1) In the United States, U.S. Code Title 18, Chapter 17, Section 331 prohibits "the mutilation, diminution and falsification of United States coinage." However, the statue does not prohibit elongation as long as it is not used fraudulently (counterfeit coinage). Expect manifestations.
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