All talk no action.
All shirt and no trousers.
There are many ways to say it, but complaining is completely useless.
The squeaky wheel may get the grease, but is there a way to cut the badmouthing and make a more striking statement? I have been really interested in performance art lately. A friend did an audition to be an “actor” in one of Marina Abromovic‘s pieces for a private dinner at MOCA. Would it be appropriate to “appropriate” (the most beautiful difference between a verb and an adjective) Abromovic’s piece for her own purposes? Is that art, true art, when you force a conversation, especially at a private party for wealthy patrons on your own terms? Listening to KPFA yesterday morning on my way to work it was fascinating to hear Jeffery D. Sachs talk about his new book, The Price Of Civilization. Just as there is a certain amount we all must “pay” to live in a civilized culture, what is the price of art? How much should an arts organization pay for art, for those who install it, curate it, watch over it, and act in it? It often seems unfair on both sides, with artists (or their collectors) receiving giant sums such as Cindy Sherman’s “Untitled #96” (1981) for $3.89 million, or Damien Hirst selling his Beautiful Inside My Head Forever collection at Sotheby’s for 198 (approx in US dollars) million in 1998. Famous artists are the 1% it seems, while everyone else is left to starve in their louche black. I am not calling for a redistribution of wealth but of mentorship, investment and support for artists.
But is it the genius of the artist to be self-centered? Egomaniacal? Odd? Becoming an artist is a very different process than being a trust fund kid who wants to support the arts as a patron.