(Sm)arty Pants

Tonight, I went to see the Pop Life exhibition at the National Art Gallery here in Ottawa, and I think I set a new record for “silent smirking to demonstrate my frustration, confusion, and fascination.”*

I also had the opportunity this summer to see 'Exit Through the Gift Shop' , a film about street art by the infamous Banksy, which was a great experience, but it’s about the rise of the entity known as Mr. Brainwash, and all I could see as I watched the process of his show unfold was where contemporary art (as we are told that it is) jumped the shark. I won’t speculate about the authenticity of Mr. Brainwash and the film, but it’s safe to say that I’m not devoid of the ability to put one and one together to make two.

Much of yesterday's exhibit, and sitting through the uncomfortable (albeit very entertaining) experiment of Mr. Brainwash, made me recall why I don't like much of the contemporary art of today.

Sure, some has kitsch appeal, but so much of it is commercialized to the point of really being the art of "low culture" a la Keith Haring's incessant outlined man and heart shapes, or else it's become nothing more than rip-offs and scams masquerading as statements about society. Most of these artists are cloying, vapid, self-aggrandizing, placing more importance than should be attributed to the 'statements' their work make, and even their use of art as a criticism of society and the rich people who will buy art for the sake of investment rather than for the sake of appreciation is a tired old trick to divert everyone's attention from the fact that they've willingly sold out and become 'the rich'. It's the rich producing to feed the consumption of the rich. The artists I'm complaining about are little more than failed, unoriginal philosophers, hiding in the mediums of art. The genre as a whole (though with a little room for some exceptions) has reached a stage of utter ennui.

Or something like that.

Needless to say, it was an amusing exercise all the same, and I’m happy that I got to see it.

* This is a typical response; when confronted with a quandary, I usually have a smile of some kind plastered on my face, usually signifying incredulity or perplexity.