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Moping Owl ... from yonder ivy-mantled tow’r | ||||||
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Moping Owl | ||||||
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I SAY, STEADY ON Goodness, what’s this? Why, it’s Wally the Dodo, charging through the wood again on his Sunday Times Mobility Trolley – surely those batteries should have given up by now. And from the sound of him, and the speed he’s going (mind that log, Wally – gosh, that was close), he looks quite upset. It seems that an old buzzard called Scruton, who is a philosophical sort (a bit like me), has lately been banging on about ‘Beauty’, and of course our Wally, who thinks he knows all about that sort of thing, clearly doesn’t like having his pitch invaded, and most especially by Scrutable, whom he doesn’t like one bit. ìScrutape is a moral philosopher and professional regressiveî, Wally mutters darkly to himself. ìNow there are some subjects on which I might, perhaps, bow to Scruball’s superior knowledge, and accept guidance from him. Fox-hunting for one (here we go) Ö I myself find the spectacle of middle-aged cretins charging around the countryside, chasing foxes, idiotic. But Scrumbag has written at length in defence of the pursuit, so I suppose he knows something about it that I do not.î Well yes, Wally, he does. And it gets personal. ìIt’s not merely the look of the man. I too am no oil-painting (well, you have us there, Wally: you are the expert) ... But at least I bear little resemblance to a garden gnome (hmmm?) ÖThen there’s the fellow’s name. What a charmless collection of curt syllablesÖî There, there, old Dodo, do calm down. But then we can only guess at what pained thoughts lurk behind those steamed-up specs. Envy, perhaps, prejudice even, or fear of being found out at last? For both these birds have been asked to make films about ‘Beauty’ in her several aspects, and since Wally takes Scrutocrates to stand for all that Wally the progressive (mind that branch) does not, there is a bit of distancing to be done. ìAs a sop to more progressive (see what I mean?) thinking, the BBC has got me in to argue the opposite lineÖ Guided only by the sound governing principle that Scrutochops is always wrong about everything, I decided to tackle the most famous contemporary artists I could think of, and to accuse them all of occasionally making beautiful things – if Scruto looked down on them, they were in.î So who are these heroes? Yes, right first time : well done – Koons, Andre, Hirst, Oh No Yoko and Kanapish Poor. ìWhen I asked Carl Andre about tin, he grew ecstatic. When I asked about magnesium, he became poetic (no, don’t). When I returned to the subject of the bricks, he advised me only to look carefully at their surface.î Not much else to look at, I suppose. Shall I go on? Well, if you insist. ìSpoons’ mirror pieces [are] based on famous cartoon characters, and the last thing I was prepared for was tristesse. But there it was. The cartoon reflections kept shifting gorgeously, then disappearing (I’ve told you before, Wally, it’s those specs of yours), and seemed to speak of the transitoriness of earthly pleasures as eloquently as the painted reflections of a rose on a Caravaggio vase.î You could hardly make it up, and the wonderful thing, of course, is that with Wally you don’t have to. But I do wonder if Wally ever knew about all the work that Scrutability did with all those dissident Eastern European birds all those years ago, before the Wall came down. Oh dear, Wally’s in the ditch again. GUARDIAN ANGELS? But ‘quis custodiet?’, as my old Beak used to sigh to himself, when his Prefects let him down yet again. Anyway, those batty old Artangels, all soppy smiles and feathers, have been flapping their wings around for years now, doing good, as they see it. So who are we to complain at their bringing New Art to the People and helping all the usual suspects? ìPioneering new ways of collaborating with artists and engaging audiencesî is how they put it. Now they’re giving a wing-up to an earnest Performing Cockatoo called Oreet Ashery, who is putting on a show in which ìa character transforms her life stories into the rooms of a house; another becomes a bin (yes, bin); others become a dream, a soft stud (?*!), a super lover and a gun who transforms into a cameraî – you get the drift. Well, it seems that Little Miss Muppet has been working with twelve lesbian asylum seekers and refugees variously from Africa and the Caribbean, who fled their native parts having suffered ìtraumatising discrimination against their sexual identity and orientation.î Oh dear: everything comes down to Sex in the end, I suppose. But the plot thickens. ‘Staying’, which is what this tragic epic is to be called, ìwas inspired by the lengthy administrative procedures that require gay asylum seekers to prove their sexual identity and often (how we love that ‘often’) their new western gay lifestyle.î Never as easy as you might think, you know. Depends on what you mean by proof. But then again, it should be easy enough – no, on second thoughts, we won’t go there. So, ì‘Staying’ addresses issues that are frequently ignored, concealed or invisible.î Yes indeed, and addressing issues that are frequently ignored, concealed or invisible may be worthy, honourable, even noble. But all the issue-addressing in the world won’t make it Art, with or without the Angels. The real and only question is: is it any good??*! ì‘Soft Stud’ is a character rooted in the urban sub-culture of ‘Studs’ – an American word for butch.î So now you know, if you want to, that is. HAPPY LANDY From across the windy acres of Trafalgar Square, news reaches me of the latest Passenger Pigeon to find a roost as Chancer in Residence at the National Gallery. Goodness, it’s Dandy Landy, of all strange birds, who we’re told has taken to ‘observational drawing’, which of course he was never ever allowed to do, indeed never even thought of doing, all those years ago when he was just a fluffy little fledgling safe in the Goldsmiths’ nest, tucked up with little sparrows Damien and Sarah. It cramped the creativity, don’t you know. ìHe is best knownî, cheeps the Gallery’s publicity chickette, ìfor his monumental Artangel commission (see, they’re everywhere), ‘Break Down’ of 2001, in which he systematically destroyed all his possessionsî. Very creative, as we all agreed at the time, or at least Dolly Wodo and Mother Goosey did, I seem to remember, along with several others. In a ‘similarly ambitious project’ at the draughty Old Tate, he rebuilt, after a fashion, his parents’ old house in Essex, though to this day we’ve never known quite why. But back to ‘observational drawing’, that has now become ìan essential component of Dandy’s artistic practiceî, which, translated from art-squawk, means that, far from sitting down and looking to see what he can discover and learn about the world, he has simply sharpened up his pencil and embarked upon ‘observational drawing’ as his next ‘project’. We hear he’s made 70 (yes 70) ‘intricate pencil portraits’ of his chums, working over several months, seven days a week, eight hours a day, which is no more than we would expect of any serious ‘project’. And with pencil cocked he’s ‘responded to’ a huge sculpture by a crafty old dead crow called Tinguely, which fell to bits years ago. Blow me off my tree, Channel 4 even ìrecorded the project.î So here we go again. He is to start at the National Gallery soon, making ‘closely observed drawings’ from paintings in the collection. Can’t wait. DODO AGAIN Well I never, here he comes again, and much more cheerful than he was a moment ago, but still not looking where he’s going, or been for that matter – Mind That Root, Wally – oh dear, too late: and there’s another crack in the specs. He'll have to get a new pair soon. But he seems all right, if you forget the dust, and he’s got the trolley started again, with a bit of effort. Off he goes, still smiling to himself (not a pretty sight though, as he’s the first to admit). It seems he’s just been to the V&A and been thrilled by a few old things from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance that the Badgers there have pulled out of the basement, dusted down, and put up again in, well, the basement, which apparently has been given a lick of paint lately. And spraying superlatives around like nobody’s business (look where you’re going, Wally), he end up with, well, ‘Courageous’ to describe it all. For it seems that it never occurred to Wally that anything interesting or beautiful was ever done in the Middle Ages, parts of which were pretty Dark too, or so he thought, most especially in our own dim little Isle. But now he’s been made to think again. ìIt feels so fresh and delightful and revisionistî he gasps. But one does wonder where he’s been all these years. Where did you say you read your history? University was it? Really? ìThe medieval age is felt to have been gloomy, backward and propelled by fiery belief (what can that mean?), while the Renaissance was enlightened, progressive and propelled by reason. King Arthur was medieval, Leonardo was Renaissance (discuss: write on one side of the paper only). Yes, I am drawing with a big brush, but you surely recognise these outlines.î No Wally, I’m not sure I do. ì The V&A is insisting otherwise .. [joining] two supposed opposites into one continuous river of civilisational achievementÖ What is being proposed here .. is that there was far more of the Renaissance in the Middle Ages than we (careful now) usually admit (speak for yourself, Wally), and far more of the Middle Ages in the Renaissance. Since the Renaissance has invariably (???) been understood as the rebirth of civilisation – the regaining of a lost paradise – this conceptual rethink is truly momentous.î Where did you say that University was, Wally? How long ago? I don’t think I can go on – it’s head-under-the-wing time. Oh, now he’s got a puncture. WHERE DO THEY COME FROM? Oh dear: all it seems to need these days is for a painter, of all things, to win the Turkey Prize, for everyone suddenly to become a critic celebrating a return to beauty and holiness and free drinks all round. It’s enough to shake an old bird out of the ivy. Lucky Richard Wright, then, an earnest enough wader through the Millbank mud by the look of him, with his pretty gold-leaf stencil-transfer sort of mural thing, and so soon (oh how we sigh) to be painted over at the end of the show – ‘ìthis work is not for the future. It’s for nowî, the artist explains, gracefully.’ Well, I’d be pretty graceful with 25,000 of Farmer Nick’s doubloons safe in my claw. But all that’s not really the point. Listen to this: ìThis Turkey is proof we yearn for honest artî, screeches some twite at the Standard called Richard Godwin. ìTaking up a full wall at the end of one of Tate Britain’s galleries, its scale, shimmer and texture demand you spend (wait for it) a good five minutes staring at it.î Now tell me, Godwit, how long it takes to watch Hamlet, or take in a symphony, or read Middlemarch. When did you last spend a tenner for a mere five minutes in the cinema? Good God, the dreariest pop song will rob you of at least three, if you’re lucky. And Witless burbles on: ìRichard Wright’s paintingÖis much better than the photographs would have you believeî. How strange. ìWright created its patterns and motifs with hand and brushî. Fancy that. ìIt produced a reaction in me that 99% of contemporary art does not – I liked it the more I thought about it. What defiant integrity, what a clever comment upon the transience of richesî, what more is there to say? But on he maunders, about the general dire state of ‘contemporary art’, by which of course he means the kind of thought-provoking, challenging and intellectually profound ‘art-work’ that usually furnishes the Turkey Prize and almost every gallery east of Oxford Street. ìThe most striking result is that dutiful gallery-goers (yes, poor things) feel intimidated and mocked – and most daren’t complain... The responses to Wright’s gold leaf suggest we’re hungry for a different kind of art (tell us, tell us) – perhaps something Ö intricate, honest and understandableî. Well, all I would say to those dutiful gallery-goers of his, is that they should get out more – Cork Street even. The Jackdaw, Jan/Feb 2010 | ||||
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Moping Owl All of this site is | ||||
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