Cordoba

The car is a 1980s Chrysler Cordoba. The bar’s sign is the Cordoba’s crest and can be found in the hood ornament and other details. I don’t know if the Mayan-looking bird was based on anything real or if an artist at Chrysler cooked it up. This car is associated with “fine Corinthian leather,” a meaningless term that a copywriter invented, so anything is possible. A Google search turned up nothing on the matter.

Bittersweet Mist

This is part of a series of paintings based on 1970s car colors. The featured color is Bittersweet Mist, a burnt orange that was sprayed onto some Buicks in 1971. In this case, it is a Skylark that is ironically in front of the Skylark Lounge, a cool old bar at Cermak and Halsted on Chicago’s South Side.

Unfortunately it is in an area that is poised to get swallowed up by the gentrification that is starting to infect the city south of the Loop. In fact, not only has the Maxwell Street neighborhood to the North, been overly gentrified, but the old place was completely leveled. There are new suburban psuedo-downtowns that have more of an urban feel than what you would find at University PlaceTM, just a mile or so to the north of the Skylark.

Wild Plum

The car is a 1972 Javelin. The color is “Wild Plum.” The building is based on an abandoned structure somewhere west of McCormick place. It looks out of place because all of the other buildings around it were torn down during the urban removal of the ’60s. That’s how the area appears anyway, with a lot of vacant lots and a few scattered high-density apartment buildings ca. 1965.

Not Much Happening In this Space

All of my blogs on art can be found at NeotericArt.com. Therefore, updates to this one will be infrequent.  I will, however, chime in here once in a while with non-art related thoughts. 

MacBook Air

A lot is being written about the MacBook Air.  Most of it centers around what you give up for its light weight and whether that's worth it in exchange for the portability.  As far as I can tell, no one has mentioned anything about its coolness.  It's what gets attention to Apple and draws people into its stores.  Of course, once there, they'll buy something else, but it helps draw people into the showroom, much like a sports car will draw people into the dealer.  One may come in to look at the new Corvette, but they'll leave in a Malibu.  In that way the MacBook Air is important.

Of course,  all of the buzz is in the Mac press and it has faded from the mainstream media.  I guess people don't care about the latest and greatest computers.  They just aren't that interesting.

My Kid Could Do That

When criticizing, it's wrong to use the term "my kid could do that" in dismissing a work of art. It exposes the ignorance of the reviewer. Obviously, anyone that would look at something and say that is a rube.

Recently, I attended a couple of openings for shows of mid-career painters in a respectable first-tier gallery. The artists, while not stars, have impressive resumes. Based on who was there, and the prices of the work, you could say they have successful practices.

I found their stuff underwhelming. The work of the first artist, at least was a little interesting. There was a certain amount of expression of movement through line that showed some thought. However the level of thought displayed, was more like that of a stream-of-conscious doodle on the margin of a book one might do in the middle of a boring telephone conversation. It was the start of something, but was being displayed as finished work. It was pleasing to look at and it smelled nice.

The work of the second artist was less inspiring. The stuff was slapped together mixed media. It displayed a lack of meaning. The collage parts were ugly wallpaper patterns that were partially obscured by thin layers of pigment. The painted parts were awkward slaps of paint from oversized brushes. There was nothing to show that this artist had any vision or anything interesting to say. Since it was very dirivative of basquiat mixed with pattern painting, all I learned was that this person paid attention in art history class and has put together some stuff that is somewhat familiar looking.

I'm generally positive and hate to trash someone's work, but the term "my kid could do that," seems somewhat appropriate. There is a certain amount of laziness to the work. Each piece was a start, but due to a seemingly lack of effort, and exploration, the paintings look to me like the products of short attention spans, like that of a kid.

There's a lot of art like this. It's child-like in its execution and doesn't express much. One could read anything in to it. It sits in the background of the opening like the tinkering of a jazz trio in the corner of a cocktail party. It's really just decoration for a lifestyle. It's not meant to challenge or inspire. It's price, however gives it a certain exclusivity that shows that the buyer and the seller have attained a status above most people. This gives the impression of higher thought.

A lot of popular contemporary art is like this. It's childish, largely unfinished and doesn't say much. Though, maybe that's the point. Any meaning can be attached to it. The dealer can write a few paragraphs that can position the work as something of incredible value. Since the artist spends little effort on it, he has more time to work on his writings and theories that can be presented as knowledge. The lack of substance in the work means that it will enhance the decor of the collector without scaring anybody, yet in some way it shows sophistication.

In any case, art like this shows a lack of attention to the work and more to the marketing and distribution. "My kid could do that," may describe the work itself, but the art is a part of a bigger whole. That lack of understanding of how the art got on the wall of the gallery is what exposes the commenter as a rube. However, the statement still holds true for the work by itself.

Art and Football

The art world is like a football game. There are participants and there are spectators.

For years, while working on my art, I worked various cubicle jobs for a couple of large companies. These jobs were like being in the stands watching the game. I knew what was going on (or I thought I did) and always felt that one day I'll get to play in it. However, dressing up in an official jersey and sitting in the stands is not being a real part of the game, not an a very important part anyway.

When I finally left the corporate world, I was able to finally go onto the field. For two and a half years, I've suited up and practiced with the team. My skills have improved and the work I've been doing is ready for the market. I'm ready to play. So far, my participation has only been to catch the occasional errant throw to the sidelines.

It takes patience to join the game, especially if you sat in the stands for so long. They have enough players and they aren't really looking for new talent. I'll get my chance, though. So buy my rookie cards now. They are going to be valuable.