Education for Socially Engaged Art is the first “Materials and Techniques” book for the emerging field of social practice. Written with a pragmatic, hands-on approach for university-level readers and those interested in real-life application of the theories and ideas around socially engaged art. The book, emphasizing the use of pedagogical strategies to address issues around social practice, addresses topics such as documentation, community engagement, dialogue and conversation, amongst many others.

The book was published by Jorge Pinto Books in 2011 and can be acquired online.

An interview on the subject can be found here:

http://www.artpractical.com/feature/interview_with_pablo_helguera/

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“For too long Social Practice has been the notoriously flimsy flipside of market-based contemporary art: a world of hand-wringing practitioners easily satisfied with the feeling of ‘doing good’ in a community, and unaware that their quasi-activist, anti-formalist positions in fact have a long artistic heritage and can be critically dissected using the tools of art and theatre history. Helguera’s spunky primer promises to offer a much-needed critical compass for those adrift in the expanded social field.” -

—Claire Bishop, Professor of Contemporary Art and Exhibition History, CUNY, and author of Artificial Hells: Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship

“This is an extremely timely and thoughtful reference book. Drawn from empirical and extensive experience and research, it provides a curriculum and framework for thinking about the complexity of socially engaged practices. Locating the methodologies of this work in between disciplines, Helguera draws on histories of performance, pedagogy, sociology, ethnography, linguistics, community and public practices. Rather than propose a system he exposes the temporalities necessary to make these situations possible and resonant. This is a tool that will allow us to consider the difficulties of making socially engaged art and move closer to finding a language through which we can represent and discuss its impact.”

—Sally Tallant, Artistic Director, Liverpool Biennial

“Helguera has produced a highly readable book that absolutely needs to be in the back pocket of anyone interested in teaching or learning about socially engaged art”

—Tom Finkelpearl, Director of the Queens Museum, New York, and author of Dialogues in Public Art

Excerpt

[From the chapter 1., DEFINITIONS]

BETWEEN DISCIPLINES

The term “social practice” obscures the discipline from which socially engaged art has emerged (i.e., art). In this way it denotes the critical detachment from other forms of art-making (primarily centered and built on the personality of the artist) that is inherent to socially engaged art, which, almost by definition, is dependent of the involvement of others besides the instigator of the artwork. It also thus raises the question of whether such activity belongs to the field of art at all. This is an important query; art students attracted to this form of art-making often find themselves wondering whether it would be more useful to abandon art altogether and instead become professional community organizers, activists, politicians, ethnographers, or sociologists. Indeed, in addition to sitting uncomfortably between and across these disciplines and downplaying the role of the individual artist, socially engaged art is specifically at odds with the capitalist market infrastructure of the art world: it does not fit well in the traditional collecting practices of contemporary art, and the prevailing cult of the individual artist is problematic for those whose goal is to work with others, generally in collaborative projects with democratic ideals. Many artists look for ways to renounce not only object-making but authorship altogether, in the kind of “stealth” art practice that philosopher Stephen Wright argues for, in which the artist is a secret agent in the real world, with an artistic agenda.[2]

Yet the uncomfortable position of socially engaged art, identified as art yet located between more conventional art forms and the related disciplines of sociology, politics, and the like, is exactly the position it should inhabit. The practice’s direct links to and conflicts with both art and sociology must be overtly declared and the tension addressed, but not resolved. Socially engaged artists can and should challenge the art market in attempts to redefine the notion of authorship, but to do so they must accept and affirm their existence in the realm of art, as artists.  And the artist as social practitioner must also make peace with the common accusation that he or she is not an artist but an “amateur” anthropologist, sociologist, etc. Socially engaged art functions by attaching itself to subjects and problems that normally belong to other disciplines, moving them temporarily into a space of ambiguity. It is this temporary snatching away of subjects into the realm of art-making that brings new insights to a particular problem or condition and in turn makes it visible to other disciplines. For this reason, I believe that the best term for this kind of practice is what I have thus far been using as a generic descriptor —that is, “socially engaged art” (or SEA), a term that emerged in the mid-1970s, as it unambiguously acknowledges a connection to the practice of art.[3]

SYMBOLIC AND ACTUAL PRACTICE

To understand SEA, an important distinction must be made between two types of art practice: symbolic and actual. As I will show, SEA is an actual, not symbolic, practice.

A few examples:

Let’s say an artist or group of artists creates an “artist-run school,” proposing a radical new approach to teaching. The project is presented as an art project but also as a functioning school (a relevant example, given the recent emergence of similar projects). The “school,” however, in its course offerings, resembles a regular, if slightly unorthodox, city college. In content and format, the courses are not different in structure from most continuing education courses. Furthermore, the readings and course load encourage self-selectivity by virtue of the avenues through which it is promoted and by offering a sampling that is typical of a specific art world readership, to the point that the students taking the courses are not average adults but rather art students or art-world insiders. It is arguable, therefore, whether the project constitutes a radical approach to education; nor does it risk opening itself up to a public beyond the small sphere of the converted.

An artist organizes a political rally about a local issue. The project, which is supported by a local arts center in a medium-size city, fails to attract many local residents; only a couple dozen people show up, most of whom work at the arts center. The event is documented on video and presented as part of an exhibition. In truth, the artist can claim to have organized a rally?

These are two examples of works that are politically or socially motivated but act through the representation of ideas or issues. These are works that are designed to address social or political issues only in an allegorical, metaphorical, or symbolic level (for example, a painting about social issues is not very different than a public art project that claims to offer a social experience but only does so in a symbolic way such as the ones just described above). The work does not control a social situation in an instrumental and strategic way in order to achieve a specific end.

This distinction is partially based on Jurgen Habermas’s work The Theory of Communicative Action (1981). In it Habermas argues that social action (an act constructed by the relations between individuals) is more than a mere manipulation of circumstances by an individual to obtain a desired goal (that is, more than just the use of strategic and instrumental reason. He instead favors what he describes as communicative action, a type of social action geared to communication and understanding between individuals that can have a lasting effect on the spheres of politics and culture as a true emancipatory force.

Most artists who produce socially engaged works are interested in creating a kind of collective art that impacts the public sphere in a deep and  meaningful way, not in creating a representation—like a theatrical play—of a social issue. Certainly many SEA projects are in tune with the goals of deliberative democracy and discourse ethics, and most believe that art of any kind can’t avoid taking a position in current political and social affairs. (The counter-argument is that art is largely a symbolic practice, and as such the impact it has on a society can’t be measured directly; but then again, such hypothetical art, as symbolic, would not be considered socially engaged but rather would fall into the other familiar categories, such as installation, video, etc.) It is true that much SEA is composed of simple gestures and actions that may be perceived as symbolic. For example, Paul Ramirez-Jonas’s work Key to the City (2010) revolved around a symbolic act—giving a person a key as a symbol of the city. Yet although Ramirez-Jonas’s contains a symbolic act, it is not symbolic practice but rather communicative action (or “actual” practice)—that is, the symbolic act is part of a meaningful conceptual gesture. [4]

The difference between symbolic and actual practice is not hierarchical; rather, its importance lies in allowing a certain distinction to be made: it would be important, for example, to understand and identify the difference between a project in which I establish a health campaign for children in a war-torn country and a project in which I imagine a health campaign and fabricate documentation of it in Photoshop. Such a fabrication might result in a fascinating work, but it would be a symbolic action, relying on literary and public relations mechanisms to attain verisimilitude and credibility.

To summarize: social interaction occupies a central and inextricable part of any socially engaged artwork. SEA is a hybrid, multi-disciplinary activity that exists somewhere between art and non-art, and its state may be permanently unresolved. SEA depends on actual—not imagined or hypothetical—social action.

[2]. See “Por un arte clandestino,” the author’s conversation with Stephen Wright in 2006,  http://pablohelguera.net/2006/04/por-un-arte-clandestino-conversacion-con-stephen-wright-2006/. Wright later wrote a text based on this exchange, http://www.entrepreneur.com/tradejournals/article/153624936_2.html.

[3]. From this point forward I will use this term to refer to the type of artwork that is the subject of this book.

[4] Paul Ramirez Jonas’ project, produced by Creative Time, took place in New York City in the Summer of 2010.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for a printed publication that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be confidentially and the question will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

To see previous issues, click here.

Note to our readers: You may have noticed that The Estheticist took a two month vacation. The hiatus was due both to a decreasing stream of inquiries and to our own summer slumber. Since we did not encounter major opposition to this gap, we may continue publishing issues in accordance to the level of inquiries and less in accordance to the monthly calendar. This is, in the end, a labor of love, so we may take advantage of the fact that we have no advertisers.

Dear Estheticist,

I’m a conceptual artist in a third world country who still cant live off my art. i tried to sell photographs but collectors here are still dubious about the medium and still cling to the idea of a unique artwork. I’m not complaining about having a day job to support myself and my art, but the resentment for artists who don’t need a day job inevitably creeps in sometimes. After seeing The Grirlfriend Experience and reading about Andrea Fraser’s work about being procured for sex by a collector for money and treating that as an artwork ( though i really really hate her, everything about her), im now contemplating on doing the same (or completely whoring myself ) just to have an edge and a bigger slice of the art market. I know those kind of under the table transactions are not new but will it really be worth it in the end?

The Martyred Whore

Dear Martyred Whore,

Fraser’s piece is about using conceptual strategies to make completely explicit that subservient relationship that artists and galleries can end up playing to collectors. It is very different from turning your entire production over to the whims of whoever you think may like your work. First, you should not compare yourself to artists who don’t have a day-job- each artist has a completely different set of circumstances in their lives and it is impossible to draw useful parallels. Your collector base may reside outside of your country, and there is also an advantage to living in a distant place from major art capitals. But under no circumstance should you sacrifice the integrity of your work: it always is so much better to have a day-job than start producing substandard or commercial work for the market.

As an aside, I would offer that the reason you dislike Andrea Fraser so much is because you identify so profoundly with her work. Its an old symptom amongst artists.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

Can curators be artists?

Sincerely,

Obviously, a Curator.

Dear Obviously a Curator,

The curatorial practice is creative in its own right, but even if the curatorship of an exhibition is so brilliant as to have the resonance of an artwork, it should not aspire to be seen as one. Artworks are entities that call attention onto themselves. When curatorial projects behave that way, they usually do so at the expense of the artworks included. At some point in the 90s, around when Nicolas Bourriaud wrote Post-production, we thought that the era of the original art was over and what would replace it was only the ability to combine things, to paste together, the era of the DJ.  And in truth, this new activity has become an art in its own terms, curatorial practice included. But it has not replaced artmaking altogether. So when one curator tries to make his or her art using other people’s artworks, that usually doesn’t come off well. The problem is not on whether the curatorial practice can be considered a creative endeavor, but rather that curators who really want to be artists end up being bad artists and bad curators.

Sincerely

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

An artist whose work I like has offered to trade their artwork for mine. How can I determine a fair exchange and talk about the trade in a way that makes our relationship stronger?

Trader

Dear Trader,

Your way of operating in this circumstance will need to be both pragmatic and generous, and will also depend on the current place in the career of both of you. If both of you are more or less at the same level career-wise ( critical recognition and similar market value for your works) there should not be much of a problem: both of you should give each other the freedom to choose a work within your oeuvre of each other’s liking and then do the exchange. If you are a younger  or less recognized artist than your friend, you should be considerate and defer to him/her as to what piece (or range of pieces) he/she considers  appropriate to exchange, and even when you are given green light to choose anything you like, you should exercise good judgment (try not to go for the huge piece that clearly costed a fortune to make or one which is very coveted).  However, if you happen to be in a stronger position (market and reputation-wise) than your fellow artist, you should ignore this difference and treat your fellow artist as an equal (Sol Lewitt was famous for doing this; he would exchange works with artists he appreciated and would trade works with them even though it was clear that whatever piece he was sending was usually worth much more than whatever piece he was receiving).

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

As an artist, how do you price artwork? It’s painful to price artwork. Aren’t

they really priceless? Unless one has another job to pay for daily expenses,

artists need to make money, too, in order to live.

—Just wondering

Dear Just Wondering,

The reality of our world is that many priceless things have to be given some provisional price tag. Life is priceless, and yet if one dies there can only be a finite amount of money dedicated to this person’s life insurance. So the monetary cost of an artwork is an imperfect representation of its cultural value. As artist, you have first to accept that fact and then, if you do want or need to sell your work, adjust to the realities of the market around it. The variables will have to do with your place in your career, the impact that your work has had in the world so far, its uniqueness, etc. You can refer to the prices of other fellow artists who are in similar stages of their career than you.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist

Your opinion wil be key for an ongoing project we are going. A well known artist in Córdoba, Argentina, invited a renowned curator and three artists (including me) to curate a show of his work. My question to you is the same than the one the artist is making to us: what kind of work should he produce for this show?

I await your response.

A.L.

Dear A.L.

In some cases, artists behave like those individuals who enter a tarot parlor so that a card reader will tell them what do to. The thing about those instances is that usually the person already knows what he or she will do- the card reader only helps him or her come to that realization and feel as if some divine power enlightened her to make that decision.

The well-known artist who invited you must have had his reasons to choose all of you specifically. You should explore with him a bit further as two why he chose you, how he thinks your perception will result in an adequate curatorship, what expectations he has of you, etc. Your mission is to help him articulate, through this kind of questions, those vague ideas about the show he would do and bring those to the surface of his consciousness. You are not to dictate to him what to do.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

How does an artist promote herself without interfering with the galleries she is with and has been with for 5-10 years.  Websites,blogs, auctions, social media and contests – how, without asking about each thing – to be moral, honest and still ambitious.

Question 2 (like press at whitehouse – two part question, sorry) How can an artist go from selling at okay price, to making a living – if she sells a lot, but has no fame to raise her prices – this is a big question, I know.

Sincerely,

B.

Dear B.

1. Most galleries welcome their artists taking the initiative at promoting their work- what no one likes is to have to carry the burden of doing all the promotion for one person.  The more you spread the word about you and your gallery, the better for both. However, galleries are there to represent you, and it doesn’t look very classy when the artist becomes the extension of the PR department of the gallery- let them do the dirty work whenever possible. Galleries preserve the aura of the artist- let them do that. Focus your efforts on the aspects that they can’t help you at- asking for residencies, getting speaking gigs, going to social events where you meet potential supporters of your work. There are many more ways in which you can promote yourself without spamming people every day.

2. Regardless of how much you sell right now, your prices can only go up depending on the demand, and the demand will only increase if more people become aware of, and interested in your work. And this will only happen if you constantly seek opportunities to advance your career- obtaining museum shows, getting into biennials, maintaining a certain level of activity, etc. If your career is on a standstill or you haven’t had major breakthroughs, raising your prices will only hurt you.

sincerely,

The Estheticist

The Neologist

Mock Turtle

Term used  to refer to nouveau riche collectors who buy the worst pieces by famous name artists —usually those which no serious museum will collect. The term comes from a character from Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland.  e.g. He has a mock turtle collection.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for a printed publication that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be confidentially and the question will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

To see previous issues, click here.

Dear Estheticist,

I am a final year fine art student/ emerging artist interested in the art world market. I am torn between passion (traditional painting) and conceptual art – which I also enjoy. Is it “selling out” to go down the commercial art route with painting? Is this wrong? Is conceptual art right?

E.M.

Dear E.M.,

You are making lots of innacurate assumptions. Conceptualism doesn’t lack passion; making traditional painting doesn’t guarantee commercial success; and there is no “right” medium. If your desire is just to make money, you are indeed selling out, regardless of what work you make.

Your situation is not unusual. Many emerging artists who are graduating have to negotiate a number of apparently opposing aesthetic stances, being seduced by all of them at once. “Traditional” painting —and by that I understand painting rooted in XIXth century aesthetics and techniques— may feel like a safer choice, as it is grounded in those familiar terrains, but the truth is that it is equally difficult to produce innovative work in any medium. You likely are not ready to make a choice yet: you need to resolve your assumptions about conceptualism vs. painting first by continue to experiment, make work and look at other artists who have addressed both painting and conceptualism. You can only know what side of the spectrum you are in by making work, and only by making work that you truly believe in you can hope to be satisfied. Commercial success may follow.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

What is the point of a poor derivation/ version of “Untitled Film Stills”?

Brooklyn Potter

Dear Brooklyn Potter,

Your question seems less a question than the downright statement that a poor, derivative work (in this case, of Cindy Sherman’s “untitled film stills”) is pointless. In any case, let’s see if that is actually true by unpacking your question/statement in two parts: 1. Is derivative work pointless? and 2. Is a poorly made work pointless?

If by “pointless” you mean that it doesn’t contribute significantly to advancing the discussion or dialogue in art, it would be a hard thing to prove. Sherrie Levine’s work is all built on derivation, but that is indeed its point. But without going to such extreme: is art done under the influence of a particular “school” pointless? Let’s say it is, but then I am afraid that encyclopedic museums would have to discard most of their works. Part of the problem of saying that a derivative work is pointless is that it is almost impossible to determine when a work stops being indebted to past artworks and becomes its own original “self”; in fact the consensus is that it is practically impossible to make an artwork that does not derive some of its references to previous art. In fact, one can argue that a work can be both derivative and innovative: think of Picasso in how he would “steal” from other artists and yet produce his own original works. Innovation can occur by using existing structures.
Furthermore, it is important to remember that the notion of “derivativity” as applied to art is a modern creation: not all historical periods, or cultures, have always praised originality as the highest aspiration for a work. And even today, if you read Marjorie Perloff’s “Unoriginal Genius”, she makes a strong case for contemporary writers who intentionally, and successfully, question the very notion of originality as inextricable to meaningful art.

As to whether there is a point in a poorly made work, that depends on the eye of the beholder. If you consult the Museum of Bad Art, you will see that the curators have found great value in some of the most aesthetically offensive works ever made, effectively turning them around to make us enjoy them as masterpieces of naiveté.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist

If you know a lot of information about a dealer, is it ethical to tell your friends or should I keep it to myself? Dealer not too honest..

Sincerely,

529

Dear 529,

It partially depends on the personal/professional relationship of yourself and your friends to the dealer. If you currently were working for this dealer, and have a lot of access to information to the dealings of the gallery that you feel uncomfortable with, the ethical thing to do is to confront the dealer directly, or quit. As an artist being represented by the dealer, a similar situation applies —if you are going to badmouth someone who represents you, it may speak more about you than about the dealer. If you, however, are an external observer, and you know of people who may be harmed by this dealer’s dishonest practices, by all means you should let them know.

Sincerely

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I am an artist who works with several different mediums. One of my most personally favored mediums is singing, although I don’t use it primarily in my current work. I am losing my voice, as a result of a cigarette addiction. When singing certain types of music, the loss is not very noticeable. When singing other types, it is very apparent to me and to people who know me. At times, I feel like I have very little control over my vocal expression– like I have these great ideas in my head, but am rendered dumb to express them by a deteriorating artistic ability.

All of this has little direct bearing on the work I’m developing right now, and yet it has some bearing in a psychological sense: The fact that I increasingly can’t perform the artform that I have worked with for the longest in my life, an artform that in many ways has defined me, makes me feel incapable as an artist, even though there are other mediums I have used and continue to use with proficiency. Incapable isn’t the right word, actually– It makes me feel like I’m losing a huge part of the soul behind my work. This doesn’t even entirely make sense to me, and yet here it is.

Aside from the obvious suggestion of quitting smoking (which is easier said than done, because I have tried a lot), what should I do, and why is this affecting my attitude towards the rest of the work I do, when I’m working with ideas and mediums that are mostly unrelated to singing?

Sincerely,

Existential Laryngitis

Dear Existential Laryngitis,

In reading your question, the first thing that comes to mind is the case of Chuck Close, who as you may well know suffered a tragic spinal artery collapse that left him nearly paralyzed in 1988. He was once asked what would he have done if this incident had left him completely paralyzed. He answered: “I would have become a conceptual artist.”
Close is a remarkable case of an artist whose determination to make art helped him to remake his life and find the conditions under which he could continue to paint, under severely restrictive circumstances. His response to that question reveals that determination, and the sense that regardless of our physical (or financial, or any other) limitations, it is possible to find creative ways to continue producing, as long as our mind is alert. While it may be true that you may not be able to do coloratura in the future, I believe you are unfairly conditioning yourself to make art only if certain aspects of you remain the same, — something that is not sustainable in the long term: even if you are healthy, you will need to stop singing one day. Your challenge is to find the imagination and creativity to take what you have and make the most of it. And forgive me for saying it, but if art is that important to you, you should be able to place it over smoking.

Sincerely

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

How do you recommend artists without studios go about making studio visits? I and many artists I know do not have a studio space for various reasons including: transience; unavailability of affordable spaces in high rent cities; cost (who can afford a studio when you can’t even afford to pay your rent, food, student loans, supplies to make art, etc.). There are those who romanticize “post-studio practice,” yet the fact remains that most struggling, underemployed artists would prefer to have a studio. It’s also seen as a badge of commitment and seriousness rather than as a socioeconomic factor. Mostly I meet for coffee with people and bring my laptop to show images, or have them over at my dining table where I can bring out a few small objects / drawings and show the bigger things on my laptop. I am going to have a visit with a commercial gallery soon, and am wondering what I can do to demonstrate the quality and materiality of my work when most of it is in storage. And also how to give a sense of my creative character, which is also important when giving studio visits, and imparted by the space we create and the things with which we surround ourselves.

Thanks,

Impoverished Yet Ambitious

Dear Impoverished Yet Ambitious

It is important to remember that many important artists didn’t have a studio for most of their careers, or ever: Felix González-Torres would meet curators at a coffee shop. It is true that having a studio (and let’s face it, having a gallery) is some sign of status, of your commitment to your work, and a reassurance to the visiting curator that you are a professional. And as you point out, there are instances where nothing can replace to see the actual piece in a physical space. However, we are indeed living in a post-studio time, and more and more it is familiar to curators to work with artists who don’t have a physical space of their own, and most professional curators/dealers are able to envision a work though digital images without seeng the actual thing. An alternative, when you have to do a formal presentation at a studio-like space, is to ask to borrow (or rent) a studio space from a friend or acquaintance for the day. You can always also compensate by inviting people to meet you at places where you are having exhibitions, or apply for temporary residency spaces where you can also arrange for meetings.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I have recently returned to painting after years of working in sculpture/mixed-media installation. I had forgotten about how painting can be so agonizing- one little corner of blue, for example, had me in despair last night- I was clenching my fists and saying out loud, “what am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”.

It’s amazing how a little square of wood, fabric and paint can have such an immense emotional effect. I guess that challenge is a big reason that painters are compelled to paint, and to be freaking out about colors and lines probably means one is passionate about what they are doing. But horrible stereotypes do come to mind of such angsty painters as Pollock and Rothko, and I find it a little worrying. I want to paint, but I don’t want to go crazy. Is there any way to enjoy safer painting?

Thanks,

Nervous Painter

Dear Nervous Painter

At an interview once, Gabriel Orozco said that he found his artistic voice the day he left art school and stopped trying to be an artist. Many times the reasons we agonize about making a particular work have nothing to do with our lack of creative potential, but to the fact that we are unconsciously blocking it by imposing crazy demands on ourselves. You appear to be terrified of not being able to create a great painting, and that whatever you engage in will not live to some kind of standard out there in the world.
You first need to remember that the studio is like an alternative Vegas: whatever happens there stays there — if you want it to. You need to regain the freedom of experimentation, and that can only happen if you embrace the idea that whatever you do in the studio does not need to be seen by the world. Experiment with easily disposable materials; don’t think of every brushtroke as a final statement on your fate. And in the end, rest assured, if the painting fails, you only need a bit of white paint and paint over it.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

The Neologist

Vip-ing

Making an art event appear really exclusive in order to ensure a large attendance.

Rehatching

Refers to the practice by some artists to take a finished work back to the studio to modify aspects of it. He rehatched all his works from the 70s.

Dear Estheticist,

As a latino artist making art about my culture, I often ask, “what’s the point of making this kind of art?” Sometimes it seems futile… everyone always says “Uptown is so far”… Is it up to me to bridge the gap?

—Washington Heights Girl

Dear Washington Heights Girl,

It is very difficult to be an artist negotiating two cultures, but it is that very need to negotiate that will make you stronger. You have been presented with both a gift and a challenge: you come from a rich background of cultural references, and you live in a situation where it is possible for you to take distance from them and see them critically.  You should not see yourself as a Latina artist against the white mainstream, or someone who needs to abandon her background to be accepted, but rather as an artist who is informed by both a latino background and a downtown art world.  And the people who may reject your art or claim you as one of their own don’t decide where you belong: they are all actors on the social and cultural environment that you are to respond to as an artist.

Both places are imperfect and uncomfortable, and both will at times appear to make you feel foreigner. But it is a necessary condition for an artist to be an outsider:  it is a necessary standpoint to better comment on reality. So while it may be a burden to, as you say, “bridge the gap”, it is essential for you to maintain a relationship between those two worlds, and use your frustration as energy toward creating more art.  The wrong direction would be to give up either uptown or downtown. As you grow into a fully –formed artist, those physical barriers will prove themselves as more psychological than real, and you and your art will eventually be able to subsume both.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

-

Dear Estheticist

As a white male philosophy major, I find myself in a position of culture-less-ness. I identify with little geographical or religious heritage. In my artistic endeavors, I find myself embracing technology as a mediator between myself and history. I honestly enjoy this bridge of philosophy, art, and technology, yet sometimes feel left out of a greater cultural movement ( e.g. latino art, etc.). Am I over-eager to attach to “the now?” How should I reconcile  my lost soul?

_MDL

Dear MDL,

Firts it is important to recognize, as you seem to do already, that we don’t choose our background— or lack of it.  This is a condition that we can’t change, and thus it is of little use to worry about how it could be different. However, there are two other things for you to think about. One of them is that the absence of a past or a culture, while perplexing, can also be incredibly liberating. Octavio Paz once wrote that Americans are successful because they are born toward the future, whereas Latin America is forced to develop looking toward the past. You should take advantage of the condition that affords you to carry a heavy weight of history. Secondly, there is nothing wrong on wanting to engage with the present, but to cling to any set of labeled movement, be it self-proclaimed or imaginary (eg. latino art) doesn’t turn you automatically into a motivated or original thinker. Your solution is not to find a culture, but to find motivation and ideas. You should travel, have experiences, engage with your times, meet people that you may feel are kindred spirits, and through those experiences you will eventually create a culture of your own, which in turn will lead to your artistic vision.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

-

Dear Estheticist,

A few weeks ago, after contacting the curators of an exhibition, I received an official email letter from the institution’s curatorial team stating that my work had been reviewed and that “after careful consideration,” it was not going to be included in the show, but that they would keep my files for “future possibilities.” Last week, I received a beaten down and dirty envelope. To my dismay, it was the same package I had sent to the curators. Unopened, and still bearing the red marks of “return to sender” it was accompanied by a US Postal note stating that it had been lost in transit and couldn’t be delivered. Besides the inefficiency of the postal service, and the time that took them to notify me, I am distraught by the curator’s claim that my work had actually been reviewed and archived for later consideration. What to do? Should I print and frame the letter along with the returned envelop and include it in a future exhibition called “Rejects From the Heart?” Should I create a public performance denouncing this rather (un)common practice and call it “My Missing Files?” Pictures included, should I Tweeter it, Facebook it, MySpace it (does this one still exist?) Should I call the Ethical Commission on Curatorial Practices and Exhibitions? or should I discretely and valiantly TAKE IT LIKE A MAN and swallow my semi-broken artistic aspirations, pride and prejudice?

Please advice… I plea to your moral, aesthetic, and ethical wisdom.

Hector Canonge

Dear Hector,

Your frustration with this mishandling of your materials is perfectly understandable, and it is not acceptable for any organization to mail artists a form letter about their work without having even bothered to check on whether a submission was indeed received.  However, the circumstances around these kind of situations are important to consider:  you did not specify, for example, the kind of organization you interacted with (which makes a difference, as I shall explain ) and on whether your submission was an unsolicited one or if it was sent in response to a call for entries. If, for instance, you submitted an unsolicited proposal to an alternative art space or gallery,  I would be a bit less indignant toward them. It is no secret that non-profit art spaces and galleries are inundated by unsolicited requests, and they have a hard time to keep track of all submissions, which prompts them to regularly send form letters. This, while not a nice practice, is about the only thing they can possibly do to keep up with the avalanche of requests they get, and this practice is bound to result in ocassional glitches like the one you unfortunately just suffered. However, if in contrast you submitted in response to a call for entries ( either for an art competition, foundation, or art space) and you received this response, the act reveals a serious incompetence and error in their selection infrastructure and would put into question the objectivity or value of their entire selection process. Artists who submit to competitions, calls for entries, etc. are entitled to having their materials be opened and reviewed, and at the very least be seen by the actual decisionmaker of the opportunity (that is, not a random intern). As such, it is appropriate to write a letter of complaint to the director of the organization, and if it is ignored,  go public about it — not out of vengeance, but in the interest of pressuring them to correct the problem in the future.

In any case you need to see this oversight not as a curatorial verdict on your work but as plain and simple mismanagement. It may only be a consolation prize, but you may agree that it is still better to be rejected by accident than intentionally.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

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Dear Estheticist,

What is art?

Sincerely,

Swiss Girl

Dear Swiss Girl,

Congratulations for being the first one in the history of this column to ask the more basic question about art.  George Quasha, a New York artist, is in my view the authority on the subject. Quasha has spent many years collecting video interviews with more than 800 artists, curators, writers, etc. responding to this question.

http://www.quasha.com/art-is/art-is

When one reviews the many responses, it is clear that there are as many answers as individuals. This suggests that the main issue about this question is that it can never be given a final answer, as whichever provisional answer is given can immediately be contradicted by a new way of interpreting what art is. Art is a discipline designed to transform itself permanently, along with its values and structure, thus no satisfactory answer can be given.

Sincerely

The Estheticist

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Dear Estheticist,

Here is my dilemma: I get this email from a Gallery called XXX Fine Art in Chelsea to come in to visit because they like my work.  A while back they had seen my work in an art show and left me a card.  I must admit I did not like the work in their gallery but I thought I would feel it out maybe there would be a change in curation.  I go in and they tell me I should apply to this competition they are having for a show there as well as in Korea and it costs $60.00 (the woman points to the bank in Korea on the application that I should send it too). It was all nice but after I left I decided not to apply. I thought it was a little shady because the work hanging on the walls in no way resembled my work. So then I get this email that thanks me for my submission (they assumed I applied) but I did not get in. I was like huh? then I see on their web page the deadline was in January. Did they really need my money that bad? I want to email them back and tell them that I never bothered applying.  Is this a flat out scam that I should report to the Better Business Bureau?

Sincerely,

Artist who feels that XXX Fine Arts must think Artists Are Idiots

Dear Artist who feels that Able Fine Arts must think Artists Are Idiots,

You did well in trusting your instinct. The fact that the work you saw on view was substandard and not connected with what you do should already be, automatically, a reason to walk away.  If what you see looks bad, it is bad — there is no use in hoping it may get better in the future. Furthermore, art galleries have no business in creating competitions, let alone asking artists to pay them to review their work. While it is not an illegal practice, it is professionally slimy and revealing of a business with zero credibility. Galleries like this prey on uninformed artists to capitalize on their eagerness to be exhibited in New York, and unfortunately there are always those who fall for their scam, thinking that they will get positive exposure and status.  They don’t realize that, with galleries like these, they would be better off selling their works on the street— either here or in Korea.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

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Dear Estheticist:

I am curating a large international show. An artist whose work I have followed and admired for long invited me to give a talk at a seminar that he is organizing. I accepted. Meanwhile, during the curatorial meetings with my co-curators his name was mentioned, and we all agreed that his work was perfect for our show. I disclosed immediately this possible conflict of interests. I personally feel that there is none, but, as they say, “Caesar’s wife should not only be honest, but look honest” I would like to go forward with the invitation, but am afraid that it will be read as a quid-pro-quo situation. Any advice?

Sincerely,

Concerned Curator.

Dear Concerned Curator,

For starters, as I assume that you are recognized curator since you are curating a large-scale exhibition, an invitation by an artist to an event is not quite comparable to the opportunity you would offer to him: an invitation to this seminar, I presume, is not a distinction that would substantially enhance your position in the art world.  But setting that aside, what the popular refrain that you mention should add is that even if Ceasar’s wife is and looks honest she may still not look so to those who want her to be dishonest. What this means is that there is no way that you can possibly prevent a public misreading of your actions.  As such, you are left with proceeding with what you consider the most appropriate way according to your curatorial expertise as what matters the most is to make the best exhibition possible. Being overly concerned to what the rest of the world may think or say about your actions may lead you to make the wrong curatorial choices. If you (and your colleagues) think the artist you admire is the appropriate artist for this exhibition, not only may you end up replacing him for a less ideal artist but you will also take away this opportunity from him only for a hypothetical fear of a public backlash.  Remember that other saying, that “hell is paved with good intentions”: many shows are constructed out of political correctness, desire of inclusivity, and other moral rules that, while perhaps democratic or fair, can result in terrible exhibitions.

Curators (and artists) who mainly operate through cronyism quickly reveal themselves as such, as this practice displays a pretty visible pattern that shows them acting out of opportunism and connections rather than an integral and objective vision. If you have not had such behavior in the past, your track record should speak against those suspicions.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

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Dear Estheticist

What is the best question someone should ask about art?

Julien Isore

Dear Julien,

Opinions may differ around the attributes that such a question would have, but I will put forward that the best question one can ask about art has to address on whether there is an underlying order in the variability of the process by which art becomes relevant.

I explain: I am assuming that the best question about art should arguably be the one which helps us dig the deepest regarding the very nature of art. However, this is easier said than done, because the more familiar questions about art offer little enlightement toward the issue and actually are closer to non-questions. To better understand this, let’s look at some of those clichè contenders for the best question about art: “what is art?”, or perhaps “how is something art?” If you think about it, you will realize that the last two questions have been more or less rendered obsolete by the avant-garde: it is fairly established that anything can be art and that there are set mechanisms that make it (or can make it) so.  For this reason, questions about how something is or becomes art are not that problematic or controversial— they are closed questions.  A similar nonstarter is “is this good or bad art?”, as you enter into the quicksand of subjective evaluation, from which you are not likely to emerge with any useful knowledge. In other words, closed questions of this type only refer to definitive, but un-inspiring answers.

So what is more important is to figure out not why I like an artwork and you don’t, but how is it that an art work gains relevance in a particular moment and time amidst a group of people. More promising is the question “how does art become relevant?” along with the more specific “how is this art work relevant to us today?” which presupposes that there are criteria that would help us determine relevance, so that question can only be answered by previously answering the mother question: “are sets of criteria to determine the relevance of art or a specific art work variable, and if so, how?”  The answer to the first half of this question, if art history is any indication, is yes:  evaluative criteria in art vary according to cultural and social periods,  and while some constants often remain (say, we generally agree on the general importance of, say, Velazquez) it is not clear to us, up to this point at least, on whether there is a clear logic to the mutation of taste and of evaluative criteria in art. It likely is caused by a wide set of factors that move us from period to period, deciding, for instance, that Picasso from the standpoint of 2011 may not be as important to us as is, perhaps, Duchamp. But we have no way of predicting how that perception may change again (for all we know, maybe in one hundred years we will decide that, say, Lèger, was the greatest artist of the XXth century). The key lies in answering the question: is there a constant within the variability of art that help us understand its relevance for a particular time and place?  That may be the best question one may ask about art, as answering it may let you know not only what is it that makes us gravitate toward certain kinds of art today, but also what art may look like tomorrow.

Sincerely

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

Is it ethical to push a painter to the train tracks if it will kill him but stop the train and save the life of two video artists?

Y.o.

Dear Y.o.,

No: it is unethical to waste the commuter’s time and prevent them from arriving on time to their real jobs.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

–

The Neologist

Direct Labor

Term used to refer to the amount of actual physical or mental work involved in the creation of an art work, often with the purpose to argue for a higher or lower price.

Collection Mining

Practice by dealers and curators of discreetly gauging the collection of a rich donor during a reception at their home, with the hopes to identify their interests and influence possible future sales, purchases, or donations.

Regression

Term applied to artists who, after trying a new style in their work that results unsuccessful, revert to a previous style that was better received critically.

Chaperonage

Factor taken into consideration when assessing the social ranking of a yet unknown quantity in the art world by seeing who this person is being accompanied at a social event. Considering his chaperonage, he must be a really hot artist.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for a printed publication that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be confidentially and the question will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

To see previous issues, click here.

Dear Estheticist,

I am a very talented emerging artist who is being invited to shows in small galleries or modest art spaces, but I don’t want to spoil my career by showing in these places. I want to start big, and so I am holding out to be picked up for a big show in a museum or gallery. Do you approve of my approach?

Thank you,

Ambitious Artist

Dear Ambitious Artist,

Your gamble is risky and borders on the unrealistic. In order for your plan to work you would need to be a genius and be lucky, two very rare things. You could, on the other hand, be an average artist with an overblown sense of self, which, in contrast, is very common. And you don’t have the distance to be a good judge of which one of the two you are.

Furthermore, your logic that showing in a lesser space will only create a diminished impression of your work is not entirely sound either. Almost no great artists had their start by having a full-scale show at a major museum, but instead started by showing at fairly humble spaces (some of which may now feel legendary, but only in retrospect). And finally, you become a great artist by exhibiting, so you should take the opportunities that are being given to you. If your work is meant to go to bigger places, chances are it will get there eventually by being shown, not by turning down exhibition offers.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

What sort of performance interventions that engage with a governmental body or political community (i.e. congress, city council, lobbyist bar crawl, political fundraiser, etc.) would you be interested in seeing? If an artist solicits answers to a question like the preceding one from a community, and then performs them, where does authorship lie, and how does s/he keep the relationship and artistic product ethical?

—SW

Dear SW,

You may remember Komar and Melamid’s project of asking a group of people what kind of painting they wanted to see: the result is, almost invariably, a kitschy painting ( usually of a landscape ) which not many artists would be too proud to claim as their author.

Your question appears to depart from the premise that the artist role before individuals or communities is similar to the one of a contractor, who comes to a place to perform a specific job (like an electrician or a plumber). The problem with this thinking when applied to contemporary art is that audiences without an expertise in art practice won’t know how to direct an artist nor be able to envision the possibilities that an artist can bring to them— thus if you ask, say, the council of a small town what kind of public art they would like they may ask for a pretty mural.

What ends up happening is that by relinquishing your control of the artistic process you also relinquish any possibility of making a work that may have a degree of criticality and experimentation, both of which are needed to produce a substantive work. Your proposal would certainly benefit by being attentive to the interests and hopes of the community, but it should not just be subservient to it. You want to challenge your audience as much as you would like to engage them, and hopefully give them a work that can both instigate a dialogue and retain artistic integrity.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

After reading the Manual of Contemporary Art Style, I am convinced that I should give up the pursuit of my own personal artistic vision in exchange for a strategy that has more of a chance to lead to my financial and curatorial success. How can I tear myself away from a commitment to becoming the artist that I was meant to be?

Sincerely,

Graduate Seminar Class Member, 3D Department
University of Tennessee, Knoxville

Dear Graduate Seminar Class Member,

You need to start by answering two questions to yourself. First, when you say “the artist that I was meant to be”, what kind of artist is that exactly? And the second is, why is the financial and curatorial success more important to you than pursuing that original artistic vision?

You alone can answer those questions, but whatever route you choose to follow the key realization you may eventually encounter is this: there is no true success unless it is the result of your true artistic vision. What the Manual of Contemporary Art Style does is to provide you a few tips toward social climbing and calculated social tricks to get attention (mainly with the intention to expose the cynicism of these practices). This does not constitute a true career plan and in the long run is kind of a pact with the devil— ultimately your opportunism will show and will make your career collapse. In other words, doesn’t matter how able you are at strategy— ultimately your work has to evidence some originality and imagination, and that is only achieved with an artistic vision. One can argue that Warhol was all strategy, but his very strategy was actually at the core of his artistic vision—thus his genius.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

Is not making art art?

Fluxus artist, France

Dear Fluxus artist,

This is more of a logical than an aesthetic paradox, and it all depends on whether you are stating “ I am not making art”. If you say that you are not something, (think of Nixon’s infamous “I am not a crook” statement) you (intentionally or not) are still defining yourself against it, and invite the possibility for someone to argue the opposite. This dynamic is the central engine of art. Non-art is an extension of art as it is a negative territory determined by the existence of art, or rather, it is “art-at-large” (see The Neologist section). In his Negative Dialectics, Adorno argues that we achieve meaning on objects through negations, not through affirmations. What one needs to do in order to effectively abandon the possibility that something may not ever be art is to escape the declarative territory, where non art cannot even be named, where it remains invisible. The moment we find it, we have already taken a step to claim it as art.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

Can current post-production practices be a stimulus to rediscover the historical role in culture that editors, collectors, librarians have played, as well as any other individuals who have been previously shadowed by authors, composers and interpreters? *

Sincerely,
Editor, Mexico City

[*this question is in connection to Nicolas Bourriaud, who argues in his book “Post-Production” that artists today operate closer to the way Deejays do.]

Dear Editor,

If by “rediscovering the historical role” of editors, collectors and librarians you are referring to gaining a better appreciation of the act of information or art collecting and organizing as a creative act, I believe that this appreciation has always existed, and I don’t think that ideas around post-production alter it in a significant way. If, on the other hand, you are referring to the possibility of elevating these individuals’ work (which admittedly is seen as secondary to the art production they process and organize) as art in its own right, the answer would be that this has also always happened, but always also as part of a process of retroactive reconstruction in which we, from our collective present, declare a particular editorial or curatorial project as art. For example, we can determine that Antonio Carreño’s 1930s Manual or Good Manners (social etiquette) reads as wonderful literature, but we can’t deny the historical fact that this work was not written with that purpose, but instead in all earnestness as a compilation of adequate social behavior. Carreño thus turns into a great writer in an accidental way, or rather, through a deliberate process through which we, and not Carreño, have constructed. In fact this automatically happens, independently of any theories in vogue: a good deal of medieval literature and art, which was not meant to be art or literature in the form that we understand it today, has been accepted as such. Anonymous Russian Icons are now declared as art and not just religious tributes.

In any case, I would not hurry to say that post-production theory amounts to a declaration of independence for librarians. The way that it is formulated by Bourriaud, post-production refers to a way of making works which incorporate the mechanisms and methods such as appropriation, juxtaposition, found object, collage, etc. While these methods may come from disciplines connected to research and techical knowledge (the editor or the librarian) these are incorporated into a critical discourse with the intention to formulate a statement. If you don’t accept this distinction and instea declare that all research is art, then you need to extend the honor to practically every kind of activity that consists in writing things: the author of the ingredients in the cereal box merits equal literary consideration than the editor.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

What suggestions would you offer artists who are seeking to overcome creative blocks?

Sincerely,

Miss Constipated

Dear Miss Constipated,

There are many strategies to overcome creative blocks.
Some of them include 1. Change one’s environment. This means something as simple as going to a new coffee shop to think, going on a trip, a residency, or simply going for a walk. The change in routine and exposure to new spaces help you to thinking about your work in a different way. 2. Seek inspiration by spending a period of time reading, visiting exhibitions, or revisiting works that in the past have inspired you; 3. Impose exercises to yourself to loosen up your creativity. Some of these could include to fill a booklet of post-it notes with ideas or words in a short period of time, then display them on a wall and see if what emerged is of interest; take a ream of paper and make a drawing per minute (or write an idea or sketch for a potential work) for an hour; etc. 4. Talk to a group of friends about your work; hold a critique or simple conversation and bounce off ideas from them; 5. Collaborate with someone to produce a new work. I don’t particularly endorse drugs and alcohol as a methodical solution, but they have unquestionably helped many to create. Approaches abound: Rachmaninoff, for instance, pursued hypnotherapy, with success.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I am a professor at an art college in the West Coast. A talented BFA student who I have tutored closely asked me for a recommendation for grad school a few months ago and I gladly accepted. However, as our relationship grew more casual over the school year, at some social event at school the student made a demeaning and hurtful comment to me about my personal life. His comment was done in jest, and I may have invited such relaxed behavior as I am usually for breaking the hierarchy barriers with students. However, I am deeply offended and feel it was a completely uncalled for insult. I made this clear to the student and asked him to never talk to me again unless it was for strict school business. Now the student has written to me to ask me if I can still write his recommendation. I want to stay true to my word, but at the same time I don’t think I can vouch for this student’s character anymore. What to do?

Sincerely,

Offended Professor

Dear Offended Professor,

A professional recommendation to graduate school usually includes vouching not only for the student’s academic record but also for his or her character. Given that your estimation of the student’s character is clearly now diminished by that incident you described, you should be direct with him and let him know that due to what happened you don’t think you would be the best person to recommend him at this point.
However, while this experience may prove educational to him, it may also be educational to you. You yourself say that you may have encouraged this student to engage with you more casually; by doing so, you may have given the wrong impression to this young student that he could interact with you as with any classmate. While he displayed poor judgment, you also sent wrong signals by actively breaking the professor-student social barriers and then being surprised that the student relaxed enough to speak his mind. You should consider on whether a cordial, yet slightly more distant relationship could serve you, and your students, better.

Sincerely,
The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

What are the pros and cons for emerging artists working in small cities vs. large cities?

—In Between

Dear In Between,

The large city gives you greater exposure to current exhibitions, debates, and dialogues going on in the international art scene — a kind of exposure that is hard to replace. The small city typically offers cheaper rents, and in some cases, better material resources to make art (say a university town). It, however, can get too comfortable and not challenge you enough as an artist —sometimes without you even realizing it. In the end, as an emerging artist who seeks to become established needs to maintain an ongoing relationship with the large art capitals, if it is not by moving there, certainly by maintaining a presence there (traveling frequently, working with a gallery in that city, etc).

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

How can an artist who has previously separated a fine art practice from social or political advocacy merge the two into effective social art?

Sincerely,

Super Activist

Dear Super Activist,

First, how is it that both of these activities currently exist separately in your life? Could it be that it is better that both function in separate ways? How would your art benefit from becoming explicitly social (assuming that what you did before wasn’t)?
What does your activism gain from your acting not as an individual but as an artist?
The reason these questions are important is because many artists who feel the moral imperative to abandon bourgeois-type of art production and turn instead to a social form. Yet art that is didactic, illustrative or subservient to a social cause is not worth pursuing as art- instead, it is best to just do activism without the aspirations of making art works. This is not to say that an artist can, and should, effectively be involved politically and socially — it is a civic duty to be so, and not only for artists. And there are indeed many artists who have successfully integrated their aesthetic concerns along with their social and political views. The merging of the both, however, should happen naturally. If instead you make social art out of a sense of duty, you may be short-changing the art part.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

The Neologist

In this new section, we propose new art terms that address current phenomena in art.

Idea-Beautiful
Euphemism used to describe an artwork which departs from a wonderful and/or original idea but is poorly executed.

Art-at-large
Refers to ideas, situations, or objects which have been deemed as direct opposites of art ideas, situations or objects. As soon as an artist declares something to be art, and its opposite not to be, this opposite is only one step away from being claimed as someone else as art — thus it is “art at-large.”

Dealer Spiel
Refers to the two-line sound bite that a dealer typically learns to say about an artwork he or she is exhibiting at an art fair. Dealer spiels have to be extremely concise about who the artist is, what their work is about, and what the piece being examined is. For example: “She is a video artist who lives in Chechnya. Her work is about the Chechen war and this piece is from a series of short films about her bombed neighborhood.”

Curatorial Rigging
Term that refers to curators who specialize in riding curatorial trends en vogue, often exhibiting the better known artists of the moment.

Readymade Career
The term refers to those artists who base their entire production in the direct imitation of the body of work of another, better-known artist to the point of almost literal appropriation, arguing that they only reference the work.

Mock Turtle Art
Describes the kind of artworks within the field of social practice which claim to transform, emancipate or educate audiences but which in reality only do so in a symbolic manner. (the term “mock turtle”, popularized by Lewis Carroll, refers to an 18th British soup which was a cheaper imitation of the real green turtle soup. In Alice in Wonderland, a character known as the Mock Turtle lectures incomprehensibly to Alice about her own education).

Unknown Likes /Known Unlikes
A merger of the Facebook Like/Unlike formula and the famous Donald Rumsfeld statement of “ there are known unknowns [...] and there are unknown unknowns” etc. mentioned before the Iraq war. Used as shorthand by young collectors to refer to those types of pieces or artists that they beforehand know that they will be predisposed to collect or dismiss.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for a printed publication that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be confidentially and the question will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

To see previous issues, click here.

Dear Estheticist,

I am a professor at a college, where I teach art. Most of my students are not going to be professional artists — they take art as an elective. The other day a student brought in an artwork based on an amazing idea, albeit poorly executed.  I have been obsessing about that idea for a while now, and I am certain that if I were to make it myself (and given that I am a professional artist I could realize the idea in a substantially better way) it would be extremely successful. I know that this student won’t become an artist (she is not interested in that career anyway) but would it be unethical if I basically took that idea and made a work of my own?

Sincerely,

M. R. F., Boston

Dear M.R.F.,

Let’s say that someone invented a formula to cure cancer but wasn’t able to make the actual medicine, nor does he realize the potential of this idea. Would that person still is the author of the formula if you carried it out successfully to fruition? The fact that your student doesn’t see the potential of the piece she conceived, or that she doesn’t have the skills to produce the final product in a professional manner doesn’t mean that you can now claim its authorship. It is not only unethical, but also insincere with her and with yourself. If you are to carry it out, you will need to give your student some sort of credit (and I don’t mean school credit, but an unequivocal, public credit). It is a fact of life that professors find inspiration from their students, and ideas in art are constantly stolen between artists, but to take someone’s idea —anyone’s — and present it as yours own, will always be a predatory act.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I’m an MFA painting student (that stupidly went from undergrad straight to grad school) and I will be graduating spring 2011. Everyone’s excited for me, but I’m left feeling anxious and overwhelmed. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore with my work. I have no sense of direction or urge to paint (which is horrible considering my concentration), I feel happier with ceramics (another horrible thing, considering I’m expected to primarily paint), I’ve no idea how to marry painting and ceramics for my thesis come spring (is it really necessary? are my professors right?), and I simply feel lost. How do I find my way to what I want to create again? I’ve never been a confidant artist, despite others appreciating my work. I need to find a way to believe in my work without doubt or despair.

Also, I’m terrified come graduation what to do with my life. I want to teach college level art one day, but not right away. I need a break from the currently confining walls of academia. What would you suggest for a newly graduated artist to do? Is it okay to just travel, create work, find master artists to apprentice under, and basically live a nomadic bohemian lifestyle until I find myself? Overall, I feel like I’m expected to grow up in a short amount of time, figure out exactly what to do for my thesis in the spring, and make inspirational art. How do I do this, yet alone get back to loving/wanting to “make?” Help!

Thank you for your time.

-Aubrey, MD

Dear Aubrey,

The anxiety that you are currently experiencing is perfectly understandable and normal, and actually most common for those who are graduating from art school. It is normal to not feel inspired, to feel overwhelmed, and to have serious doubts about your work— all that is part of being an artist.

There is no point in hiding the fact that the toughest period for any artist usually comes right after graduation. Why? Because that is the time when you officially leave the safety of a secluded environment when you can make your work. However, there is no need to panic. Art school is not a normal condition, but on the contrary: it is a completely artificial environment, so you are coming back to real life. So, while it is normal to feel as you do, you are not jumping into a precipice —rather, you are coming out of one.

You have to deal with your situation by parts. First: the thesis show is not the last show of your life, and while significant, you have to see it in perspective: it is just a show. If you don’t have a major body of work to present, so be it— nor does it need to represent the kind of work you will do in the future. I wouldn’t recommend mixing ceramics with painting at the last minute just because you are told it’s a good idea by someone else— you have to do what makes most sense to you. Nor should you feel guilty about abandoning painting altogether— many artists evolve outside of painting, and the experience you developed while painting will remain with you regardless.

Second: after you have dealt with graduation, it is very good to take some time off to think about what you want to do with your work, but you also need to be responsible to yourself and don’t allow this “time off” to become an aimless, permanent vacation. If you want to be an artist, you need to mentally remain one, and make yourself go back to make art after a few months. The most important aspect of being an artist is to continue producing and thinking about art. You are about to experience absolute freedom, and what is scary about this freedom is that it doesn’t have a built-in structure for you to develop your work; you will have to develop it yourself and find your own discipline. You owe it to yourself to continue producing as an artist at least for a couple years after art school. If you realize you don’t want to make art, then you may chose to abandon it, but you don’t give yourself that chance, will never forgive yourself for not trying hard enough. The bottom line: particularly during this pivotal time before and after graduation, please ignore what everyone expects or wants from you: the only thing that matters at this point is what you want and what you want to accomplish as an artist.  You will find the answer sooner or later, but it won’t necessarily meet the deadlines for the MFA thesis show.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

If I want to make a piece about, say, water pollution, how much of an expert do I have to become on the topic? Sometimes it feels like when an artist addresses a social issue it is judged on how deeply one engaged with the subject, so that it doesn’t look opportunistic. I am a concerned citizen and want to make pieces about social subjects that sincerely matter to me, but I am not interested, nor I can, write a dissertation on every topic I address.

Sincerely,

Unschooled Activist

Dear Unschooled Activist,

Neither you nor any other artist can become an expert on every subject we take on to develop an art piece. Nor could there possibly be a quota of knowledge about every subject art is made. The main problem may have to do with how you conceive the functionality of the piece you are doing and your own role as an artist addressing the issue. If you are indeed doing an activist piece that intends to teach or inform people about a particular issue, or even, to attempt to “solve” the issue through your artistic intervention, you will undoubtedly have to become versed on that issue, otherwise you may run the risk to appear naïve and may find yourself biting something larger than you can chew. You may also need to ask to yourself: if your goal is to fix a social problem, why is an artwork the means to do so? Of course you need to be knowledgeable on the subjects you address, but art is not supposed to replace other fields of knowledge— instead, it can bring a different perspective that can illuminate them. That kind of expertise that artists brings do not require a PhD on a given subject, but a kind of ability to observe, visualize and think critically that can’t be acquired by becoming an expert on, say, water pollution.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I would like to hear your opinion on the high art vs. kitsch art dialogue. It seems that we have been confronted by this question again and again and yet a clear distinction cannot be provided. Who makes the decision whether art is high or kitsch or neither? The artist? The gallerist or dealer? The viewer? The critic? And is the question really important at all?

Mr. Realist

Dear Mr. Realist,

There is no central organization that decides what is or is not kitsch, nor a single ruler who determines what is good art or not. However, there is a divide between art that is about an earnest search for beauty, spirituality or whatever you have and art that is fueled by an ironic take on that search.

Whether we like it or not, contemporary art is grounded on irony.  If you make work that appears to ignore the critical attitude toward earnestness of, say, fifty years ago, the work will be identified as naïve or kitsch. The question is unimportant if you don’t want your paintings to enter into the collection of any major museum or ever be recognized by the contemporary art establishment.

Sincerely

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

Today’s art is presented in a myriad ways— on Youtube, performances, books, one-to-one experiences, etc. The whole concept of what an exhibition is has changed. Yet most magazines and newspapers keep publishing reviews mainly of shows that happen within the confines of a gallery and which last the typical three weeks— yet those are precisely the venues, I think, that show the more conventional kinds of art, shown in the most conventional ways.  Is criticism behind?

Emma M.

Dear Emma M.,

Conventional publications review conventional shows, and conventional critics review the work of conventional artists.  There are those publications that try to address the alternative forms of exhibiting art, but most of them, like the art they discuss, exist below the radar of the mainstream.  To ask why the New York Times, for instance, can’t break from their formats for reviewing gallery shows is to ask why the mainstream can’t absorb what’s outside of it.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I feel that we in the contemporary art establishment are a bit schizophrenic about the public. On the one hand we want the masses to embrace art; on the other, we hate it when art is too crowd-pleasing, when museums bring in too much people, etc. and instead we seem to be protective about our insider knowledge. What is going on here?

Sincerely,

Tom, San Francisco

Dear Tom,

The sociologist Daniel Bell coined the term “knowledge society”, arguing that those who produce knowledge in post-industrial societies secure a position of cultural advantage for themselves.  If we think of art as a form of production of knowledge, we can see that the popularizing of insider knowledge about a certain kind of art erases the original advantage retained by those in the cultural strata and the larger public, causing anxiety amongst producers for their loss of status.  The relationship then between producers and consumers of culture is one of interdependence, but —particularly as it applies in contemporary art— as the information age increasingly erases the boundaries between audiences and content-producers, we are likely to see an increase in this schizophrenia in the coming years, and perhaps further steps by art insiders to produce even more encrypted and codified forms of art.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

Why do artists need galleries these days? The 50% they take seems outrageous. Should we try to sell our own work online? Are galleries becoming obsolete?

Solitaire

Dear Solitaire,

Galleries are not obsolete. And even though a few successful artists have been able to survive without gallery representation—Christo and Jeanne-Claude are one rare example— going at it alone is equally complex and demanding, if not more, than working with someone who may represent your work. The artworld uses online marketing, but the true relationships are made on a personal, one-to-one basis.

Even though it seems that online sales are easy to do, think about the thousands of people like you who are also trying to promote themselves online.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

It seems to me that every debate I have about art is ultimately resolved with quoting philosophers (or, whoever wins it is the one who quoted the best thinker).

Do you think that in art the buck stops with philosophy?

Wittgenstein

Dear Wittgenstein,

Philosophy has certainly been the stage onto which most of the key (and of course, aesthetic) debates amongst artists, critics, and art historians have taken place. And some artists, like Joseph Kosuth, have gone as far as arguing that art is a way of making philosophy. But I would say that the wider consensus is that, ultimately, philosophy functions best as a lens, and not as the ultimate consequence, of art. Great things can emerge when philosophy and art function as means to explain each other, but when someone tries to make art with philosophy, or philosophy with art, the risky result is either pompous (and self-absorbed) illustrations of ideas in the former and incomprehensible (and likely inconsequential) babbling in the latter.

Sincerely

The Estheticist.

The Neologist

In this new section, we propose new art terms that address current phenomena in art.

Career Waste management

Euphemism that refers to the process by certain artists of reacquiring and destroying works of their own from certain unflattering periods, in order to show a stronger historical output.

Turninism

Recent tendency in the art world to develop fashions around different disciplines, such as “the pedagogical turn”, “the ethnographic turn”, etc.

Novelty dependency

Refers to the addiction in the art market to works produced in the current year, even if they don’t introduce new concepts or forms.

Art school inflow

Self-reinforcing process by which art and curatorial schools attract a homogeneous class of students with similar values, social class, and political views which leads to standardization of creative outputs.

E-curating

Process by which some curators organize shows, without visiting artist studios and mainly relying on web research and social media.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for this monthly blog and/or for a book that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be treated confidentially and it will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

To see previous issues click here.

Dear Estheticist,

I would be interested to hear about secondary market royalties for artists.

Sincerely,

Judith Schaechter

Dear Judith,

For your question, I turned to an expert on the issue. According to attorney Franklin Boyd, Founder and Director of Boyd Level ( a financial and legal advise firm for artists and collectors):

“1. Yes, certain states mandate that a dealer disclose purchaser information to an artist. See for instance California Code Penal Code Sec 536 and 536(a):http://www.leginfo.ca.gov/cgi-bin/displaycode?section=pen&group=00001-01000&file=528-539. There is no explicit under New York law. Query how valuable this is as certain collectors will buy through 3rd parties or entities (e.g. an LLC or LP set up to hold the art work).

2. Also yes, and in fact it is law in California, Europe and most of South America. It is sometimes known as “droit de suite”. This is pretty easily researched on-line (also search “artist’s resale royalty right”. As for as the US goes, there was a big push to make it a federal law in the 1970s/80s, led by Ted Kennedy and Robert Rauschenberg. As to the why this is a bad idea, I’d suggest an excellent article by John Henry Merryman entitled the “Wrath of Robert Rauschenberg.””

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I am an associate curator at a well-known contemporary art museum. I am committed to showing new and emerging artists, and I steer away from the old suspects, or artists that are already getting plenty of attention- not only does that turn me off, but I always find it much more interesting to find new blood. However,  I am finding it extremely hard to convince my colleagues that a particular artist without pre-existing art world credentials should be shown at this museum.  I am told that these artists are more appropriate for alternative spaces or smaller venues. I have been curating for a while now and I don’t believe that the quality of the work is an issue, nor can my colleagues suggest that —they just can’t quite articulate why we should be showing a yet unknown artist. I can’t help but feel that my colleagues are generally afraid of taking risks and actually lazy in their selections —they basically chose from a list that has already been pre-selected by them by the establishment ( magazines, galleries, collectors, other museums like us, and yes, alternative spaces and smaller venues) to the point that our shows are almost completely predictable and we turn more into a seal of approval than a deliberative body of curators. This attitude also seems to enter in conflict with the public mission of the museum, which his to display the most cutting-edge art today. As for me, I know that my colleagues are starting to see me as too out there, curatorially reckless, and perhaps even dangerous. I want to stick to my beliefs, but it may cost me my job.  Am I really in the wrong place and my colleagues are right? Should I just accept the fact that large museums simply cannot be experimental?

Best

Curatorial Maverick

Dear Curatorial Maverick,

Based on the information you are providing, sounds like you are doing a good job at challenging your colleagues about their decisions and their taste. As far as I am concerned, a curator that provokes debate and discussion amongst their colleagues is doing the job.  However, and even if this may sound paradoxical, you might also be in the wrong place. You have encountered a classic problem amongst large contemporary art museums, who want to be at the forefront of the field but who at the same time have a hard time experimenting. This is due to a number of reasons: first, because they are too big to fail, and experimentation comes at a very high cost (a show that is a flop at an alternative space is no biggie; but the story changes when you depend on high attendance numbers and revenue). Second, because the curatorial team they attract are mostly focused on connoisseurship, which is the skill that helps put together a good art collection. Thirdly, quality in art is, to an extent, socially constructed: it is part of a wider consensus of the criticism, collector and curatorial milieu, and to operate on a strictly individualistic form as a curator, while courageous, may appear strange to some. The artists that you are suggesting have no known “provenance” but instead are unknown quantities, which may make them suspect to your colleagues.  It is true that art history tells many stories of maverick curators who introduced then-unknown artists into the market and thus made history. However, this actually is not very common. In contrast, you don’t hear too much of the (much more numerous) stories of curators who championed artists who have completely been lost in obscurity (along with the curators who championed them).  While every curator wants to be a visionary, it is hard to do so at a large institution, and may as well be seen as reckless as you infer, even if you are not told so explicitly. My suggestion to you is to continue pressing for the artists you believe in, that you pick and chose your battles, and consider making some compromises if they don’t alter the integrity of your project ( in the end you have to be a team player and can’t treat a museum gallery as if it were your personal living room).  And if none of that works, I suggest you try finding a job at a smaller art institution. I am sure they will take you— the art world desperately needs curators who think like you.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I never really believed that people have sex with gallery directors for shows, figured such stories were products of the desperate, envious and exhibitionless.

But naive me, imagine – it happens! This could be viewed as:

(a) Wow man, a totally awesome expression of two individuals with souls so liberated and limitless that they might even be folding themselves back into highly conservative tropes (see taco, time-travel theory)

(b) An abuse of power, akin to sleeping with one’s therapist

(c) The Way the Art World Works

(d) What it is

My question is not which is most accurate, but instead what is the responsibility of the witness, the citizen, the onlooker?

Anonymous, Croton-on-Hudson

Dear Anonymous,

Your comment reminds me to a famous anecdote attributed to George Bernard Shaw (and sometimes to Churchill) that goes this way:

GBS: Madam, would you sleep with me for a million pounds?

Actress: My goodness, Well, I’d certainly think about it.

GBS: Would you sleep with me for a pound?

Actress: Certainly not! What kind of woman do you think I am?!

GBS: Madam, we’ve already established that. Now we are haggling about the price.

The moral of this (likely fabricated) anecdote is that, while most of us may cringe at the thought of sleeping our way up the social ladder, we do tend to make dubious concessions all the time over the course of our professional lives, sometimes inadvertently. I was recently accused by a blogger of presenting an art work at an art space that had received a grant by a foundation that belongs to a bank that engages in evil control of the market. ( It had never occurred to me to check the list of the funders of the space, and of the funders of those funders, and on the personal habits of the CEOs of those companies that support the funders of those funders, etc.). Strictly speaking, in terms of the Shaw anecdote and according to this blogger, I prostituted myself, and it only remains to be determined how aggravating were the terms in which I did so. Granted, there is a difference between exhibiting at a place with thrice-removed unpleasant sponsors and  overtly using sex to further one’s career. But each person’s situation is different and it may be hard to judge a legitimate love affair from a cynical career move.  We can get very righteous about it, but you may have a hard time arguing where you draw the line.

And so, in terms of what you should do about it, the answer is: probably nothing. To “denounce” a social climber generally its unnecessary, as most people can recognize one a mile away anyway, and it may only reflect poorly on you as you may be seen as a gossip or simply envious. As long as it doesn’t affect you directly, the civilized thing to do is to continue to focus on people’s work and not on their personal lives. And if the work is bad, you shouldn’t support it anyway, regardless of what sort of peculiar bedroom habits the individual has.

sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I’ve been told my work is important in major conversations going on in the art world by almost everyone who looks at it.  I know a lot of people, I go to openings & after parties, I’m friendly, but I’m absolutely sick & tired of 1) not EVER selling ANY work and 2) not being curated appropriately.  I’ve had tons of shows in and around NYC (groups & one solo in SoHo), went to Skowhegan, have had big fellowships, the whole nine yards, but still am sitting here broke with the work just stacking up like crazy in my studio.  I feel like the next major step is to find the RIGHT curators & collectors to come through my studio.  Unfortunately, there is no youngcollectorswithmoney.com.  I know patience is a virtue, but dammit I’ve been living in NYC since LAST August and the story is the same.  What am I doing wrong?

B.C.

Dear B.C.,

Its very simple: you need to focus more on your work.

If its any reassurance , there are many artists in NYC who have been here not only since last August, but since August of, say, 1967, making lots of significant work and they, too, still don’t have a gallery, don’t sell much, and have not gotten their due recognition.  What you are doing wrong is to obsess with instant success, which is a sure recipe for despair.  The one undeniable fact about success is that it will never come when you expect it. You seem, however, to have started a promising career, so you should not undermine what you have already built by waiting for Godot.  While it is good to be ambitious, you have to also be realistic.

I would first suggest that you find some ways to stabilize yourself financially, so that takes a bit of the stress of having to sell work at this point; perhaps taking a part-time job ( you may get to the stage where you sell your work more or less regularly, but that is unlikely to happen in a few months). Second, what matters is not what people say about your work but what they do about it. Let’s face it: we all praise each other in the art world; so sometimes its hard to know if people really mean it, if they only somehow mean it, or if they don’t mean it. So, you should carefully approach those who you say praise your work and ask them what kind of opportunities they can help you get – exhibitions, studio visits by curators, etc.  but most importantly, as I said is to focus on your work – without doing that, you will have nothing to show. You will know when you have produced a small hit ( or a big one): you live in NYC, where good art is hard to hide: as long as you are active showing somewhere, if you have really strong work it will get seen. It may happen tomorrow, but you may actually have to wait a few more Augusts.

Finally, regarding not being “curated” properly: before you jump into an exhibition opportunity, take a second to analyze it: does the curator know what he/she is doing?  If the curatorial premise is very lame or the show not something that you would support, would it hurt more than help to participate?

sincerely

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist

I have just started to work with a gallery, not formally represented by them but they wanted to have some pieces at the gallery and all has been a verbal agreement so far. 
Turns out they did sell my pieces but at a higher price than the price we talked about and they will not tell me who bought them. Should I get 50% of what they sold for or what I agreed to (lower price)? 
Do artists have any legal rights to know who their art is sold to?

Not feeling great about this relationship so it may be very short lived.

Sincerely,

Doubting Thomas

Dear Doubting Thomas,

Regarding the 50% arrangement : it’s a contractual issue. You should have previously agreed with your gallery that the piece should sell at a minimum/maximum price, and that you would get 50%.  Otherwise they are engaging in a unethical, but not illegal, practice.

If the price was stipulated through a contract and they changed the price, you would have right to sue;  however this may not be the most beneficial course of action for you. In this case, sounds like you are dealing with a sleazy gallery so it may not be doing nothing for your career. Best is to end this relationship.

Regarding knowing who your buyer is: depends where the gallery is located. It is law in California and most of Europe to disclose the buyer to the artist, but New York law is not explicit about it.  In any case, if the gallery hides the name of the buyer to you it is an unethical and shady gesture that gives you the more reason to look for another gallery.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,
Is China really the new New York and Auction Houses the new Museums?

Sincerely,

Stuck in the Past

Dear Stuck in the Past,

Again, not being an expert on Chinese Art, I asked this question to Barbara Pollack, who is the author of a recent book, “The Wild, Wild East: an American Art Critic’s Adventures in China”. Pollack replies:

“Yes,  China is the new New York,  with bigger artists studios,  galleries,  and collections than you can find in New York these days.  First,  there’s the market,  which continues to grow even when there was a recession in the international art market.   Beijing has become a hub for art dealing for all of Asia with over 200 galleries from Japan,  Korea,  Indonesia,  as well as Europe and the US opening there.   There’s a real sense of internationalism which makes New York seem provincial.  But also,  artists are flourishing there, despite some kinds of censorship still in force,  because of the unbelievable economic resources available to them there.  There are now too many art movements happening in China to be easily contained under the rubric of “Chinese contemporary art”  and I predict that like New York in the 1950s,  China will spawn the major innovations in art for the 21st century.” My caveat on this regard — and not intending to comment on the Chinese phenomenon–  is that I would be skeptical that the historical moment of New York overtaking the art world would be replicated again, anywhere— the art world is too fragmented today and it would be difficult to minimize the importance of globalization in thinking of a single location as the center of art (note also that comparing  a c

Regarding Auction Houses as the new museums:  As far as I understand the argument, it goes like this: 1. auction houses have museum-like spaces where they show their works; 2. the production value of these are equal or even superior than most museums; 3. today some museums are turning to private collectors to showcase their collection; 4. Auction houses are now “curating” auctions. Conclusion: the frontiers between church and state are falling.  While actually are the previous statements are true, they purport to present an inevitable conclusion by omitting more abundant and significant facts. Auction houses are about making money, not about fulfilling an public mission as it is the case of most museums; unlike auction houses, who don’t collect, museums collect and preserve art for future generations; auction houses cater to the most affluent individuals, while museums see as their mission to serve the wider public; auction houses’ education programs are, like their auctions, about making money, while museums offer a vast array of programs for all ages.  The list goes on. Museums can be demonized as much as possible, but the capital they produce is cultural and educational, while the auction house is for collectors. And yet, indirectly, this is a hepful phrase for those of us who believe in the educational role of museums; those museums who have shown private collections like the New Museum (which is not even a museum) and which have given a chance for auction houses to compare themselves with the non-for-profit world, only build the case for museums to pay more attention to their education program, which truly should be at the core of their mission.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

What happens when you leave New York?

Sincerely,

X

Dear X,

Depends on what terms you leave it. If you made it there, it doesn’t matter where you live afterward. If you didn’t make it, it’s like a curse: it will become an obsession to go back to get the job done.

Sincerely

The Estheticist.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for this monthly blog and/or for a book that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be treated confidentially and it will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

To see previous issues click here.

Dear Estheticist,

How do you deal with rejection?  As an artist, I know I need to apply to grants, residencies, and other professional opportunities — yet I have a very hard time when my application is rejected: I enter into a depressive mode and my already low self-esteem takes another blow. Sometimes I feel that I should not even bother entering into a process that may hurt me even more than what can help me. What to do?

Best

Applicant

Dear Applicant,

A central part of being an artist is to accept that not everyone will understand, like, appreciate or be willing to support your work.  The application process to a grant or a residency is only one of the many ways in which this reality becomes manifest; it just feels particularly brutal because these are instances where people (jurors, curators, etc) are forced to make a “yes” or “no” decision about your work. In reality, your work is being always evaluated when you exhibit it or make it public.  Furthermore, the reasons why a work is rejected can be very complex, and sometimes have nothing to do on whether the jurors like the work or not — sometimes some artists are selected over others not because the work is deemed superior, but perhaps because it is more appropriate in form or context to the kind of opportunity for which it is being reviewed.  At the same time, I don’t advise you to ignore rejection altogether: while you should not let them get to you emotionally,  you should try to examine, in an objective way, the patterns of these rejections and see if there is anything about them that you can help: was the application well written? Did you aim too high?  Is the documentation appropriate?  Were the artists selected significantly different from you and why?  This should be studied only with the purpose that you can make a more informed and better application the next time.  And yes, you should continue applying — even at the risk of getting yet more rejections, it will only make you a better artist.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I am a painting student currently doing a BFA in an art school.  I am convinced that I want to be an academic/realist painter — that is my goal in life— and I have a deep dislike for anything conceptual. To me, an artist who doesn’t know how to draw is not an artist, and the whole contemporary art scene seems to me like a giant scam. My professors however want to push me to do more “contemporary” stuff,  but it all seems to me like bullshit.  I just keep telling them that I want to be an academic painter, that I could not care less about any other kind of art, but they say that I am stuck in the past. And perhaps I am, but why is painting like Velazquez such a bad thing? He was a better artist than anyone alive today.

Sincerely,

Velazquez II

Dear Velazquez II,

You are entitled to do any kind of paintings you like— whether they are exact Velazquez reproductions,  social realist murals, or paintings of Elvis on black velvet.  And you also are right in being distrustful on the way in which the art market tends to create a hype for certain kinds of art. However, there are a few things for you to consider. First, it is unfortunate that you have taken such a categorical stance given that you are still doing a BFA.  Art school is meant to be a place where you explore different mediums, where you study art history, and where you expose yourself to a variety of practices. Your professors certainly cannot force you to be any kind of artist in the future, —in fact, I can assure you they will be gone from your life after you finish your BFA, and you will be free to do as you please— but while you are still studying, you should take advantage of these other worlds they can offer. If you want to be taken seriously as an artist you have no choice but to understand what all periods of art are about and be capable to critique them from an informed standpoint before you reject them.

Your ultimate decision has to do with how you see your role in society. Strictly academic artists make work that is about pleasing the eye, about the use of technique, and it is mainly used to decorate environments. Contemporary art is about commenting on our contemporary life, often in a critical manner. There are many gradations in  between, of course, but as long as you think that you want to make work that is unique, that makes an informed comment on reality, you will see that it is not possible to ignore other kinds of art being made today around you. This applies also to artists working in the realist canon:  even they, when they are successful, are making work that is aware of contemporary issues.

Making traditional art is uncomplicated and straightforward: you either know how to paint like Velazquez or you don’t. Contemporary art is messy and ambiguous, and you may never know if what you are doing will be considered relevant; yet that is how great visionary art is born. All art at some point was contemporary.  And while certainly there is a lot of bad conceptual art out there, I can assure you that there is even more horrid, ridiculous, and amateurish realist art — and this variety comes without the benefit of the doubt as to its mediocrity.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

Why are art magazines so boring?  I am an artist and I consider myself reasonably well-educated, but I just can’t get interested in how magazines write about art. For the most art I find the writing of our trade pompous,  unnecessarily wordy, and unimaginative. Am I alone in thinking this?

Frustrated Reader

Dear Frustrated Reader,

You are not alone.  For a long time there has been a generalized dissatisfaction around art magazine writing.  You well pointed out that these are trade publications: as such, they need to employ a language that commands respect in the field.  The kind of “objective” or “neutral” voice that you see being pursued in many art reviews and features draws its style from art theory, if not necessarily its substance—thus our suspicion about it.  And certainly this pursued objectivity takes precedence on creating imaginative writing, which could be perceived as not serious and even amateurish by some ( there are art critics who write in overly opinionated ways, mainly to entertain, and/or to create an artist-like following).   The good news is that blogs and other online communications are starting to liberate art writing, making it more fluid, concise, and less bound by archaic or academic rules.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I am an African-American artist. My work deals with a wide variety of issues: nature, politics, urbanism, and even abstraction. However, I feel that because I am an artist of color my work tends to always be read under that lens. Worse, curators tend to ghettoize me by inviting me to ethnic-specific kind of shows. Don’t get me wrong: I am not conflicted about being black.  And I guess my work could partially be read in that context, and I have accepted some of these invitations because they have been good opportunities to show. But I don’t appreciate being ghettoized this way, and I feel my work gets reduced to be about being black.  How can I communicate this to everyone?

DKF

Dear DKF,

Every time you are invited to exhibit at a show you need to weigh in the advantages and disadvantages that it provides. It sounds like you have accepted to be in shows that emphasize issues that you don’t want to be too associated with, perhaps because you think that it will just provide you exposure. You should think twice. The kind of exposure that a show under this subject may provide may be precisely the kind that you don’t want to get. In other words, while your work will certainly become more visible, it will reinforce the connection between your work and those culture-specific issues that you want to detach yourself from and just contribute to further ghettoize you.  Artists make entire careers of just dealing with one subject; this doesn’t sound like a good idea for you, especially if the subject you are associated with comes out of genealogy or necessity.  The only way to break the circle is to decline invitations to exhibitions that will reinforce the perceived stereotype of what your work is about. You don’t want to be invited to exhibit because of your ethnicity; you want to be invited because you are a good artist.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

What is the etiquette for selling work from the studio? If I have a gallery, can I sell from my studio too?  Should I sell it at half price, or can the price be higher?

Best

Open Studio Artist

Dear Open Studio Artist,

Selling from the studio when you have a gallery can be a risky proposition, especially if your studio is available to a public that can also be reached by this gallery. Even if that was not the case, (for example, if you gallery is in Europe and you are in the US) you should not sell work out of the studio without the knowledge and previous agreement of your gallery (some galleries may be ok with this practice, others won’t).  Furthermore,  you should be careful about reducing your prices from the ones of the gallery —it may only downgrade your own prices and hurt both you and those who represent you.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist

I am a conceptual artist who makes deceptively simple pieces. And I am sick and tired to be told by ignorant people that my art work can be done by a four year old, that it doesn’t require any effort, etc. I would like to have something to tell these people every time I receive an imbecilic comment like that. Any suggestions?

Unloved conceptualist

Dear unloved conceptualist,

Next time anyone suggests that what you do is simple, ask them to prove it — not by telling you what they would do or how would they do it, but by doing it.  Most people think they can paint a Pollock or a Malevich,  but when put to the test and given the materials, they have no idea how to do it. It’s the same with conceptual art.  Hand them a piece of paper and a pen and ask them to propose a conceptual art piece.  As they are certain to produce an amateur and naïve piece, then proceed to do a ruthless critique as you would tear apart the work of a student.

Sincerely

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I am an emerging artist who works as receptionist in a commercial gallery to make ends meet. I am a good worker and am liked by my boss, but I have always felt slightly uncomfortable about being an artist who works in a gallery. The other day I had an awkward situation when a collector had seen my work in a show elsewhere and started talking to me about it in front of my boss, asking me to come to my studio. I know that my boss didn’t like that, but I didn’t know what else to do. I guess my question is: is it a bad idea for an artist to work in a gallery? Am I shooting myself in the arm by pursuing a job at a place that technically should be representing me?

Sincerely,

Dislocated artist

Dear Dislocated artist,

You are right: it is wrong for an artist to work at a gallery. It is of course a necessity for many artists to take a job at a gallery, and many artists at some point in their careers have to take a gallery job. These, however, when they are done, should be on a temporary basis and it is much better when the role that you play in the gallery is a behind-the-scenes one (say, registrar, shipping, etc) and not being at the front desk. Being in the job of receptionist will expose you to interact with desirable individuals (such as Roberta Smith, for instance) in very undesirable circumstances. Your job implicitly diminishes the status that you should or potentially could have as an artist, and while you are getting a paycheck, you are doing yourself a disservice by presenting yourself to the public as someone who is not more than an assistant to others. Furthermore, most people in the artworld are chronically incapable to appreciate complexity, so to most people it is impossible to grasp that the same person can be a talented artist and a receptionist by necessity. And finally, this may be a strange fact, but collectors, curators and critics in order to be seduced by an artist need to have an aura of distance between the actual person and them.   In your current job, there is no way that you can create such aura, and for the most part your being there demystifies who you could be. If I were you, I would ask your boss to let you do another job that is less public inside the gallery, and if that is not possible, start pursuing another job opportunity that will keep you away from the line of fire of critics and curators so that next time that they interact with you they meet you as the artist, not you as the gallery receptionist.

Sincerely

The Estheticist.

Dear Estheticist,

I’m sure you have addressed a question similar to my query in the past, maybe on a regular basis, but where does an artist start? I have a current, and large, body of paintings and I am eager to establish a relationship with a gallery, ideally in NYC. Is there a source that suggests new galleries or galleries that promote the work of new artists as a specialty, or philosophically?

There is a lot of information online, but very few promote actual next steps or suggest resources that may actually help secure a show. I’m looking to connect with galleries that may take a chance on showing the work of an unestablished painter.

Sincerest thanks.

MK

Dear MK

Thank you for your inquiry. Your desire to “get started”, as you say, is perfectly understandable, but there is a reason why you can’t find a source that lists new galleries for new artists to pick: galleries don’t like to be solicited randomly just because they or you are new in the market. Furthermore, “getting started” doesn’t mean that you necessarily need to get a gallery, be it in New York or elsewhere. Nor does having any gallery guarantee that you will be in a better position than if you didn’t have one- some galleries are so awful that it is better to get started solo until a better deal comes along.

But let’s examine this need of a gallery for a moment: the reason one wants a gallery is to sell work and to gain exposure and reputation.  If your need is to make money, it is preferable that you supplement that need in some other way for the time being while your career starts taking off- you don’t want your paintings to carry the burden to support you right away, otherwise you may not be able to experiment freely with them. If your interest is to increase your reputation as an artist, you first need to build a reputation that will make you visible, and perhaps, attractive to the dealer. This is done in two ways: one, by inserting yourself in the circuit of acquaintances and people that support that gallery, and by studying the program of this gallery. You can’t just arrive to a gallery and dump  your slides for them to review- they will likely go directly to the trash. You need to make an informed approach, choose the galleries whose program you identify with, and make a case for them to review your work explaining why you think your work connects with what they do. You also need to be ready to argue why you think your work would bring something new to the gallery’s program. This won’t guarantee that the gallery will take you in (nothing does) but I can assure you that the more seriously you take your approach the more seriously they will look at your work.

That said, it is wrong to think that getting gallery representation is the solution to enter the art world. Usually it is the other way around: galleries take you in BECAUSE your work has something new to say, and if it has something new to say it is likely because you have paid attention to what others have been saying with their work and are ready to respond to them.

What is most important, in other words, is that you pay attention to the works of other artists around you and see how your work dialogues or interacts with them. If you think it doesn’t in any way, most likely you could benefit from attending more art exhibitions and openings, and become a more integral part of the art scene through its discussions and debates. That will get you a better sense of the things that curators and artists are in pursuit of, and to be part of that conversation, and in the long run, getting a gallery may come afterward, naturally.

sincerely,

The Estheticist.

The Estheticist is a free ongoing service of art consultation around practical, philosophical and ethical issues around the visual arts profession. To ask a question, email estheticist [ at ] aol.com. Participants accept that their questions may be used for a printed publication that will serve as a professional development tool for emerging professionals in the arts. Your question will be confidentially and the question will appear as anonymous unless you specify otherwise.

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Dear Estheticist,

I am an artist who is fairly well known in her hometown – a middle-sized art world center. Through the grapevine I heard that an influential curator is curating a show at the main museum there on a subject that is THE subject that has occupied a good part of my career (and most people in that art scene know it). Furthermore, the title of this upcoming show sounds strangely similar to the title of one of my works. Yet, my work has not been included, and I have heard that the artist roster is finalized. This curator knows who I am —we’ve met and been in panels and other things together before— although I am not sure the extent to which he knows my work. I know that being excluded from shows that one feels are exactly about what one does as an artist is an unnerving but common incident, but this case feels to me particularly humiliating given the location, context, and proximity to me in the content and title of the show. I have no way of knowing if this is simply an omission or if this curator really doesn’t like what I do — yet I feel that my exclusion will be interpreted locally as a statement against my work. Is there any way I could insinuate myself into this exhibition (remember that so far the show is not public knowledge), or at least get clarification about why I am not included without appearing presumptuous?

Sincerely,

Hometown Girl

Dear Hometown Girl,

Your anxiety and even indignation about this show is understandable. However, there are few things for you to think about: first, you should ask yourself what this incident might say about your own insecurities as an artist (all artists have insecurities). You yourself say that you are well known in your town, that people identify this subject with your work, and that people will notice your absence in the show. If all this is true, then the embarrassment may actually be experienced by the curator who failed to include your work, as he may appear to others as not having done his homework properly. If, alternatively, the curator is intentionally making a point of excluding your work, there is no point in arguing with him on that. You may want to send a trusted friend or supporter to casually mention your work on this subject to this curator, but this is a risky task that may backfire, if it becomes public knowledge that you lobbied (and maybe failed) to get into the show. Like it or not, the best course of action on your part on this situation is to do nothing, and let the events unfold. You must trust that the work that you have done in the past stands on its own, and your reputation should be able to withstand the fleeting passing of a famous curator through your hometown.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

Last summer I made a misstep by assaulting a good friend critic with the work of another dear artist friend. Something went wrong but I am not sure what it was. I would like to get your advise on how to help the career of other colleagues without making anyone uncomfortable, including myself, and how to detect and communicate a negative response from others.

Thank you,

The North African

Dear North African,

It is commendable that you have the generosity of heart to help out your artist friends. Intercession by a -theoretically neutral- third party is the most important kind of help that one can receive as an artist. However, and as you also realized, you do have to be careful not to impose your friend onto others and thus jeopardize your own relationships. If you want to introduce an artist friend’s work to a critic, here are a few things to consider: 1. do not let your friend know in advance that you will be making that connection; if for some reason the critic doesn’t like the work or the idea of meeting your friend, you will end up demoralizing your friend even more. 2. when you introduce the artist to your critic friend, this also has to be done gently and with tact. One way to do it would be to invite the critic to your friend’s show (without the presence or knowledge of your friend), or simply share images of your friend’s work with the critic and ask for an opinion. It also would not hurt to be perfectly honest with the critic and say that you want to help your friend— most people are sympathetic to such situations. Also, if in your request you show to your critic friend that you are aware that you may be imposing on his time, this simple acknowledgment will go a long way.

It is not appropriate to ask your critic friend point blank to do a studio visit with the artist, or to do anything that will place the critic in a difficult situation (such as starting to be pestered with solicitations by your artist friend). Your critic friend may feel obligated to comply with the request just because of your friendship, but it may generate resentment later. All you can do for your artist friend is to facilitate a way in which the critic will get a glimpse of the work; if there is interest, you can help even further. But it is not possible for you to convert others to your friend’s art. You may want to ask yourself if there are any other ways in which you can help your artist friend, maybe through invitations to social events where your friend may make new connections; or through sharing information about grants, residencies, or resources that may translate into opportunities. And regarding how to communicate a negative reaction: you should always prevent from hurting your friend’s feelings by plainly saying things like “my friend didn’t like your work”. You should always present it in the best light possible, which could be something like: “I believe my friend is focusing on other kinds of art at the moment.”

Sincerely

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist:

I have a persistent fantasy where I approach someone like Rob Pruitt and offer him a cash reward if he can get me a solo show at Gavin Brown’s. All he’d have to do is whisper in Gavin’s ear, right? Here’s my question: how much should I offer him?

Yours,
Dan Levenson (New York)

Dear Dan,

Thank you so much for your question. As you yourself recognize, this is a fantasy, which is defined as “an idea with no basis in reality”, so I feel, for the sake of usefulness, I should answer the question in how it would
work in the real world. In the real world, no money will be directly exchanged or offered and you must never be personally involved in the operation. You have to get a triad of collaborators: one, an influential collector, then an influential critic and an influential curator. All of
them at different times need to whisper to both the ear of Gavin and Rob. Then you set up a star-studded celebrity dinner where they are invited and they meet you. At that dinner they will be surrounded by other impressive individuals who will whisper to them about your magnificence and hotness. Then the influential collector will make the request to Gavin to quietly sell a few works of yours from his collection (these will be works that you will have given to the collector for free beforehand). Gavin will jump at the chance and turn the offer into a solo show. (for more details on how to do this, watch “The Sting”). You will ask, I am sure, how do you then get a hold of that influential collector. Basically you do the same “triage” process with that individual, and the same with the previous three individuals that you will need to reach to in order to get to the collector who will get you to Gavin. This is why these exercises are known as social climbing: you can’t parachute your way in —only in fantasyland.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

Whose opinion is the right opinion in the world of artistic critique? How do you deal with polar opposite opinions?

Artist

Dear Artist,

You point out a perennial problem that artists face: whom should one listen to? If we receive negative criticism, is it because our work is truly deficient or because it is so advanced that others can’t perceive its visionary nature? If we are praised, is it for the right reasons? And when our work is simultaneously praised and attacked, what does that mean?
The field of art critique, as you are referring to it, has a wide range, from the novice to the connoisseur. Needless to say that the criticism of the layperson, while it can sometimes be useful, it generally lacks enough knowledge of context to make informed assessments of your work ( so, for instance, I would not be overly concerned if your local dry cleaner hates your performance art works).
Then, toward the middle of the field of criticism there is a remarkably wide area of consensus- such as, agreement on what is a technically and conceptually-sophisticated art work, the relevance of certain movements, artists, and also on what constitutes a truly original artwork versus a simply derivative piece.

On the extreme end, however, which is what I imagine you are referring to, gets very interesting. Critics, curators, and artists break into various camps – formalists, conceptualists, neo-Marxists, guattari-ists, etc. Many times their differences simply cannot be solved, partially because art history is full of equally valid opposites (Matisse/Picasso; Delacroix/Ingres, etc) and there is no such thing as a single path to making significant art. But even if one of these camps were to possess the absolute “truth” as to where art is going in the future, at least from the standpoint of the present moment we don’t know what the current debates between these camps will look like. And it is not possible for you, not to anyone, to know the outcome of these debates.

All this to say that when you receive conflicting criticism about your work you should pay close attention to who is formulating these criticisms (or praises), and what is motivating their comments. Could it be personal? (many times it is). Could it be their inability to recognize the possibility of practices that are different from theirs? Are they a bit blinded by their commitment to some monolithic art principles? Are these people who you respect, even if you disagree with them? Ultimately the answer may lie on which camp you identify yourself more closely with. And it has to be a deeply personal choice. Your best bet is then to follow the opinions not that most flatter you, but that point to the issues that you care most about. And, needless to say, to follow the opinions of those who are currently considered the “taste-makers” just because they are given importance in the art world, will just turn you into an opportunist — something that may helps in the short run, but nothing more.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

One more question…

What is the responsibility of the artist in making more art? Isn’t the
world already overwhelmed with objects, stuff, art?

Am I having an artistic crisis?

Artist

Dear Artist,

Yet another classic question. This one, however, contains no less than four hidden fallacies in its simple formulation.
The first one is that you are assuming that art is always about its material object.
The second one is that existing art is capable to be an efficient surrogate to any possible future art.
The third one is that art is born out of responsibility, not out of necessity.
And finally, that art can stop to be made.

All four of these assumptions are wrong.

Art may often be an object, but it is much more than its objecthood- it is a way of understanding the world that allows us to see it anew. Even if we were to destroy all the existing art today, its effect has already taken place in us and we have evolved partially thanks to the insights it has given us. Then, most artists make art not because they feel a civic responsibility to make it, but simply because they have to: making art is much more of a human need that it is a constructed activity that services society, even if that ends up being one of its functions. And, as a human need, you can’t prohibit art making— it would be futile and pointless. And that is a good thing, because every passing moment brings a new kind of reality, and that new kind of reality demands some need for interpreting it. That’s what artists do: they respond to the moment they are living. So while you may admire a Leonardo, he is still our ancestor, not a living person with whom you can have a conversation about your daily life. Contemporary art can do that for us, and if we are willing to listen, in the best cases it won’t feel like an accumulation of stuff, but a liberating, enlightening experience.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

I’m truly afraid that after graduate school I’ll end up working the same awful, minimum wage jobs I had before starting graduate school. How can I prevent that from happening when it’s all over with? Would it be too far of a stretch to move out of the country (USA) in search of work? Are job prospects better anywhere else?

Jen

Dear Jen,

Try to use art school to learn some skills that you may be able to repurpose for other jobs. There are many fields that absorb people with art school training: conservation, fabrication, digital imaging, archiving, education, museums, paper making, advertising, theater lighting, sound and film editing, television, graphic design, 3-D modeling, drafting for architecture, publishing, etc.
The pay of these jobs will depend on how advanced you manage to get your technical skills. Let’s face it: you won’t ever make a lawyer’s salary, but it is perfectly possible to find a reasonably satisfying niche that would allow you to pay the bills and give you the peace of mind to make your work. I wouldn’t discard the possibility to move elsewhere, but if I were you I would only do it if the place you move to will be a beneficial climate to develop your artwork.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

Dear Estheticist,

How do you tell your best friend who is an artist that her most recent work is the most awful crap you’ve ever seen?

Liza G. , Madison WI

Dear Liza,

If you feel so strongly about this new series you must speak up, for your friend’s sake. One way to do this indirectly -that is, without you becoming the bad cop- would be to instigate a situation that will bring the awfulness of this work into your friend’s mind. Such situation would be such as bringing a respectable and outspoken person to come see the work and be upfront about it. Another strategy is simply to lobby for her previous work ( which presumably is better than the current one ) and convince her that there was an interesting direction in it that she should retake. But the truth is that the best and most effective strategy is to simply arm yourself with courage and tell your friend that you love her and that her work is the most awful crap you have ever seen. She may not stay your friend for long, but she will thank you one day.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

The Estheticist is a monthly, free visual arts advice service. To submit a question, write to estheticist [at] aol.com.  Questions may be published as part of this montly blog. All questions will be answered and treated anonymously.

Dear Estheticist,

As artists we have the privilege of offering our colleagues artworks in exchange. Are there any unspoken rules about artists bartering pieces? For instance, shall this works have dedication? Or is it right to sell a piece which was acquired in a friendly exchange? Thank you for your advice.

Anonymous Artist, Mexico City

Dear Anonymous Artist,

Exchanging pieces amongst artist colleagues is a wonderful practice. To propose an exchange, however, has to be done carefully and with tact. For an artist to propose a trade with a more successful  — or expensive, for that matter —artist, would be presumptuous and would place the more successful artist in an uncomfortable situation. Artists at the same level can certainly and freely propose trades to each other, but the interest in each other’s works must be clearly mutual as well as the recognition that both are at the same level (which is actually hard to do as most artists have a slightly more aggrandized vision of where they are placed reputation-wise in relation to others). The best opportunity to propose a trade most typically emerges when an artist that one admires expresses a lot of interest for a particular work of yours; it is then perfectly reasonable to suggest a trade. One should not be picky either: to demand a particular work from the collection of that artist would tarnish the exchange.  Regarding dedication: unless the dedication is considered as intricate part of the work (and some conceptual works are that way), in general to visibly dedicate the piece to someone else (say, an editioned photograph) would likely diminish the value of the work when this one may be passed down to posterity — it certainly would be of less interest to a museum unless both donor and recipient would become historically famous ( and let’s not kid ourselves that we will be, say, Matisse giving a gift to Picasso). And regarding sales: it is not appropriate to sell a work that one has acquired through an exchange of this kind. When one enters into such a trade, the implicit understanding is that admiration to each other, not monetary gain, is the reason of the contract. To choose to sell a work that one received this way is to admit that the admiration that one may have toward that artist is not as great as your desire (or need) to cash in.  Regardless of how desperate one may be for the money, the gesture of this artist will not be seen favorably amongst those around him/her, will likely offend the author of the piece, and will likely prevent others from trading with this artist in the future.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

***

Dear Estheticist,

I am an artist who has been around for a while so I am reasonably well-known and connected in the art world. Also as a result, many younger (and not so young) artists ask me for letters of recommendation for grants and residencies. While I want to help them, writing these recommendations is way too time consuming, I am a slow writer, and sometimes I am just overwhelmed by the amount of requests that I get. Moreover, there is one person in particular who every year asks me to write a recommendation for something and  I am just fed up with it. How can I let this person as well as others know that I am not endlessly available to write letters without sounding rude?

Tired Recommender

Dear Tired Recommender,

This is a very common problem, but it is not difficult to address. You, however, will have to learn how to say no.  One way to do it is to set your seasonal limit (say, three letters) and award those letters to those artists who you consider more worthy. It is perfectly fine to tell others, nicely but firmly, that while you would love to help them you are simply unable to write a decent recommendation because of lack of time. And regarding the artist who constantly solicits you, you should have no qualms in telling him/her that you will have to give the opportunity to others instead than to the same person. Needless to say, not everyone may be so understanding to your negative, but I would be that those same people will also likely be those who don’t understand the meaning of boundaries anyway.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

***

Dear Estheticist,

I was a photojournalist for many years, until I became disenchanted with the profession. Disenchantment was followed by an identity crisis, followed by a revelation; I wanted to become a full-time artist. I’ve been dabbling in drawing, painting, collage and conceptual photography for many years now, but kept these activities as a private, personal joy. I live in an art world capital with a thriving art scene and I’m thinking of taking some courses here and there, start going to vernissages and mingle, make some connections and start making art (and hopefully a name for myself). The thing is, I’m 37 years old and I never had any art related training whatsoever, which gives me extreme insecurity; I’m just not confident of my skills or my work. I’m reluctant to pursue an arts degree now, as I believe I’ve wasted so much time (I’m kicking myself for not having this revelation when I was 18 or 20 years old). I have a constant fear of not having enough time at this point in my life to develop a successful career as an artist. What should I do? Should I invest five (or more) years studying and then try to start when I’m 42 or older? Or should I trust that a few courses and good connections will help both my skills and my confidence?

Thanks!

Mid-Life Art Crisis Artist

Dear Mid-Life Crisis Artist,

You seem to be able to assess your situation with great frankness and objectivity; that in itself puts you in an advantage in relation to others who, even if they decided to become artists before you, would benefit from feeling a bit more insecure about their talent. Secondly, I think you have correctly guessed that it is not a good idea to make art in a vacuum. Although we still hold the romantic notion that an artist may make art in secret and one day be discovered after death (e. g. Henry Darger), the reality is that contemporary art is as much the result of the perseverance of one’s vision as the product of the dialogue between artists, between generations, between world views.  So it is of utmost importance for you to place yourself within a community of artists. Attending some sort of art program, classes, residencies, and even art school would be indeed very beneficial for you, to see how others think, solve similar problems, how they articulate their work toward others, and how you share or differ in your views on art.  Do not worry about your age: while it is true that you will not have the same learning arch of a 20-something, at the same time you arrive to art with valuable life experience, which you can put to good use in the creation of thoughtful and original work. Also, remember that many very important artists started making art fairly late in their career: Marcel Broodthaers, one of the most influential post-war artists, was a poet and made his first art object at 40. W. G. Sebald, one of the most influential European authors, published his first work in his 40s.  Such examples abound. And you should not be concerned about running out of time. Your focus should be to become the best artist you can be, and to find reward in the work that you make. While urgency can be a productive motivation to get to work, you should not let it turn into haste.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

***

Dear Estheticist,

I work at an alternative art space. Part of my job is to solicit artwork donations from an artist roster we have for our annual benefit. Whlle some of these artists in this roster have exhibited as part of our regular exhibition schedule in the past, others have never been invited to do so. One of them complained to me about our solicitations, saying that she has been already asked for several works in the past and that it is hypocritical of us to request donations when we have not shown interest to exhibit her work. My view is that this is indeed an opportunity for artists to get their name out, and that our space can’t possibly show every single artist’s work and thus it is valid to ask for help to those in the art community who attend our space, even if they are only spectators. Who is right?

Benefit Organizer, New York

Dear Benefit Organizer,

She is right. By soliciting free artworks for a benefit to artists who you have not included (or are not likely to include) in your regular exhibition schedule, you are sending the message (intentionally or not) that you have a double standard in artwork selection, and that this artist belongs to the category of those who are good enough to exhibit at the benefit (which is usually not a very exciting context to show a work anyway) but not be included in the regular shows.  I am sure that you have plenty of artists who have indeed exhibited at the space that you could limit your benefit solicitations to them. It is true that you will never be able (nor would ever want to) to exhibit every single artist who visits your space, but if the art community that you are supposed to service is feeling taken advantage of, you have a real problem in your hands and it is your duty to find ways through which these artists will feel, even if not supported, at least treated respectfully.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist.

***

Dear Estheticist,

I am an American artist and have been working with a “personal virtual assistant” from Bangalore to create a project that not only reflects the uneven conditions of the relationship, but also makes attempts to balance out the power dynamics of the relationship by treating my “assistant” like a person, making his interests the content of our work together, and even asking him to assign me tasks. The project has been extremely fulfilling and problematic – right where I want it to be. I have an exhibition planned of the work we have done together, and I’m wondering what you think the best way might be to allow for the relationship be alive during the exhibition.

Thanks,

Artist Entrepreneur

Dear Artist Entrepreneur,

Thank you for bringing up such an interesting and problematic case —which appears to be a classic ethical dilemma in social practice.  First, let’s review the facts: you are an artist who has hired a service. The individual who works for the company and, by extension, for you, is bound to a contractual relationship to which his financial subsistence depends. Even if he enjoys what you are asking him to do, or even if he plots these ideas with you, the relationship is rooted in two unaltered facts: he is doing it as part of a job, and you are his boss. Because of these facts, the relationship artist-assistant is not significantly altered regardless what you ask him to do.

Your desire to disrupt, or expose the power relationships that emerge from globalization is well noted. However, just for the sake of argument: even if this exchange is based on a democratic creative dialogue where you both make aesthetic decisions, it would not be a collaboration, because since your collaborator is likely not a visual artist versed, invested nor inserted in the international art circuit as I would assume you are, even then you will end up getting the credit, and he will remain in the background as an enhancing ingredient to your career.  The reason for this is that the kind of benefits that you are getting from this relationship are tangible but invisible— they are of the reputational economy type: you may appear publicly as a generous or democratic individual, but in the end because you are the one who is bringing this man into your cultural context you are the one to benefit.

In my view, the only way to truly balance the power dynamics of this relationship would be to not make the outcome of the project an exhibition in your cultural playing field (that is, the artworld, america, etc.) To do so would first tilt the project in an advantageous light toward your own practice, and make the assistant look less than a real person and more like a human readymade, which is what these companies sell anyway.  Where you, for instance, to revert the hierarchy and ask him to assign you tasks, or to perform tasks that his friends are doing for other bosses in the U.S., you would be into more interesting territory. And to truly level the relationship, your financial or artistic subsistence should depend on his decisions and suggestions — for instance, having him decide what your art should be like in the next year or so, without you revealing to others that you are taking instructions from him. Or starting your own reverse company, doing the kind of work for free for the personal assistants in Bangalore who service these American companies. Or just becoming the free personal assistant to any random person in Bangalore. Or do like Marina Abramovic who exchanged jobs with a prostitute in Amsterdam for a day. Etcetera.  These courses of action would be in my view a more complementary (and complimentary) alternative to simply exhibiting the projects that you had your virtual assistant do.

This is not to say that it is not valid to retain your artistic authority in this relationship (Santiago Sierra, for instance, exploits people but he is direct about it, even if it may be an unethical act). The problem is that you have created a situation where the artist-assistant relationship you propose to problematize may not appear to go so far as to truly upset the balance. What matters here is conceptual transparency and the kind of stakes that exist on both sides. Without carefully addressing both in your presentation, you risk appearing to simply extend that which you appear to criticize or only half-heartedly exposing your personal risk in a power relationship.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

***

Dear Estheticist,

I would like to ask you where would we be right about now art-wise if Renaissance had never happened – if we had skipped it altogether?

Georgia, Athens

Dear Georgia,

Thank you for your question. Not being a Renaissance expert, I consulted one truly versed Renaissance scholar.  He was puzzled by the question, saying that “I don’t know what the questioner means by “the” Renaissance, and even if I did, I would likely have no idea.”  However, knowing that this is not quite a satisfactory answer, and given our pledge here to answer every question, here I go:

Marxists historians would point out that during the Renaissance the emergence of a bourgeois class (e. g. Medici) with time for leisure and education led to art as a product that could be bought and collected. Furthermore, the emphasis on man as the measure of all things (as opposed to God) has, amongst other consequences, the phenomenon of constructing the notion of “The” artist. With Vasari’s “Lives of the Artists”, this notion is first articulated, and, one would argue, the tendency of narrating art history through the canonical narrative of individual “geniuses”. Fast forwarding to our era, we can all agree that we continue to regard physical artworks as carriers of intrinsic value (both symbolic and financial) and that we continue to nurture the notion of “The” artist (now as in “art star”), both legacies of the Renaissance.  So, what would have happened if the Renaissance hadn’t occurred?  Perhaps we can find part of the answer in societies that did not participate in, or exist outside of, the construction of Western modern culture (indigenous cultures around the world, religious movements, outsider artists, etc).  For some of these people, art is the expression of a collectivity, but it should not have financial value.  Some recognize that great artworks can be created by individuals, but don’t necessarily appreciate or favor an self-centered vision but instead how this work speaks to the group. And in some societies what we call art is not called art and artists are not considered artists in the same way in which religious icons in churches in medieval times were not seen as containing an aesthetic value outside of its expression of faith and the artists were anonymous (until Giotto came along). In other words, interpreting the view of authors like Arthur Danto, without the Renaissance we would not have had a beginning of the art historical arch, we would not have had a modern era, an academy, a modernism, a post-modernism, and the death of art. Art today would perhaps not be called art. Museums as spaces where to show these things would not be considered necessary.  People would make art, but not necessarily sell it or collect it, and this art would perhaps not be about their vision but would perhaps be collectively made or anonymous. And we would have lost the chance to have a Sistine Chapel. But we would have likely also been spared from Damien Hirst.

Sincerely

The Estheticist

***

Dear Estheticist,

What makes an Art object meaningful? it the indication that something meaningful is present? Is it the attention we proceed to invest in it? Is it our capacity to subsequently rationalize that experience into a communicable verbal analog: to describe it in words? Is it in the act of communication?

Yours sincerely,

Dan, St. Louis

Dear Dan,

Your question lies at the core of epistemology and it is the source of a large debate between proponents of different schools of thought.  From the standpoint of hermeneutics, what makes an artwork meaningful is the successful mediation of a force between the viewer and the object, some kind of “third” force that, if successful, disappears when the connection takes place (the most common example is language: when we speak about an object language help us attain meaning, but at the same time recedes into the background because we are not conscious that we are using it).  Structuralism, by contrast, argued that meaning only can come when you utilize a signifying system —could be feminism, anthropology, political theory, semiotics— to approach an object, and because of the many variables of systems and individuals, meaning is an unstable product. In art museums, an influential approach has come from constructivist theory, which draws from hermeneutics in that it sees the reaching of meaning as a mediated process, and from structuralism in that it is relative to the interpreter. It also places most emphasis on the experience of the viewer as the main constructor of meaning.

In any case, most art education theorists would agree that there are likely a myriad of reasons why an art work becomes meaningful. Objects can be meaningful to us without us having to verbally articulate why. They also become suddenly meaningful when we hear others speak enthusiastically about them. But meaning ultimately is an internal negotiation within yourself, when you process all the information you have received of a particular object and, be it for the suggestibility of the context around you, irrational impulse, or careful reflection on the issues that it poses in your mind. And because the conditions that create it are never fixed, it is unpredictable what may become most meaningful to an individual. Social and cultural conditioning may cause us to agree that a particular art work is very meaningful, but even then we usually disagree on the reason why.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist

***

Dear Estheticist,

What do you do when you realize that you are being been stalked, used and vampirized by a so-called friend, some one much younger than you? How do you let the world know that you reject this person? I confronted my friend but he reacted surprised, as if I was mad. I feel as if I was in the “All about Eve’ movie, surrounded by pathological narcissists on coke. I want to escape! Help, please!

Best,

Don Quixote, Spain

Dear Don Quixote,

It would be easier to help you if your letter was a bit less opaque in the details. I gather that by being “vampirized” and “stalked” you are referring to a colleague who has taken advantage of your friendship, perhaps plagiarizing your works or using your friendship for advancing their personal career. The fact that they sound like drug-addicts is not promising either.

Whatever is the case, it is clear that you have surrounded yourself with people that are detrimental to your well-being and your creativity.  But as bleak as your surroundings may look, it is very important for you to know that they don’t represent the totality of the art world: there are valuable people out there that will value and support you as a friend and as artist. Your job is to find them and surround yourself by them in a better environment. Whether that means to simply cutting all ties to your torturer, or to move to another neighborhood, town, or country, is only that only you can decide. But this change will likely require that you drastically change your life as it is- expand your professional circles of friends and acquaintances, seek out the individuals you admire, build a group of people who share your same values.  Usually we blame the others for our own inability to change our situation, but as you yourself suggest this situation has now become untenable and you are the only one who can change it.

Your priority right now should be to sever all ties from those who have caused you this aggravation, and have the discipline not to contact them again.  You can’t move on to meet and develop good relationships because you are too involved with the poisonous ones.  Finally, I suggest that your focus should be to make art, not to worry what others think about you. This focus will ultimately be rewarded.

Sincerely,

The Estheticist