Anyone used to looking at painting and having an understanding of what its about in historical terms and as a crafted object can see immediately that the art in Modigliani, which is all inept in the same way, is a mess, incoherent bundles of signs that say 'Modern Art'. But at the same time this pseudo-art is ambitious in a horrible way. Its statement is 'I am impressive. Look at me'; not 'I am the result of a ceratin type of serious endeavour, involving both the past and the present, in which the artist as a man takes a back seast in terms of ego and pride — that kind of thing simply doesn't help make forms cohere and colours harmonise; so basically you've got to knock it on the head if you want to be any good.' Instead we get something truly base. A supposedly great masterpiece by Picasso is unveiled amidst a lot of hoopla, everyone gasps at the audacity, the genius, etc, while 'Picasso' does a little proud, moved, humble but also arrogant smile, as if to acknowledge, 'Yes, I am the sex and art king of all time, but I also concede I owe my greatness to a long line of geniuses going back to Raphael, whom I listen to over my shoulder while working in my atelier!' That is, a part truth — Picasso's indebtedness to history and tradition — becomes a whole lie: art is for social climbing, for intimidating the other guy.

Howdy!

I wonder what he would think about Moulin Rouge?
- Zeke 4-09-2005 5:55 pm