Bravo’s Work of Art

I think we have all seen enough examples of reality television shows over the past two decades to understand that they might better be dubbed “selectively edited TV.” From MTV’s The Real World to The Biggest Loser and Home Makeover: Extreme Edition, we recognize that producers and editors manipulate viewer emotions through music and sometimes one-sided footage. While the Survivor-style reality TV competition had already been a prime time fixture for several years, it was not until Bravo launched its successful Project Runway that a new sub-genre was born. And since that time Bravo has essentially built its network programming around reality-based shows.

June 2010 saw the launch of Bravo’s newest Project Runway-style offshoot. Work of Art: The Next Great Artist (full episodes available from Bravo's website) follows the same format as its predecessors: Project Runaway, Top Chef, Shear Genius, and Top Design. These competitions among members of the creative class have gained quite a following, both by those who are part of those communities or aspire to be. I was uneasy about the premise of a competition among artists when I first heard the show was in production, but was also interested to see what kind of animal this show would be. This assessment of the show is based only on the first three episodes. My opinions may change as the episodes progress and the first season reaches completion.

The contestants fit the stereotypes that we have come to reply upon for any reality-based contest show. There is a loud-mouthed, over-confident figure who claims to have “already won.” There is also an untrained artist who learned quickly that the cry of, “I’m not trained, so I don’t know all the ins and outs of the artworld,” was not going to fly with the judges. There are older artists, younger artists, a good split between the genders, a mix of ethnicities, artists from various faith backgrounds, and, because this is Bravo, at least one gay artist. This is the tried and true recipe that began with the first season of The Real World. It guarantees that personalities are going to come into conflict, making for more entertaining TV.

There is another stereotype that is perpetuated in Work of Art. It appeared in the first episode when executive producer Sarah Jessica Parker made a surprise visit to the artists. As she encouraged the artists in their quest one particular statement struck me. She wanted them to remember that “This is a competition.” Working alongside other artists can certainly push us to do our best, but instilling the idea that the artworld is competitive benefits no one. There are certainly elements of competition since some artists get that big grant, prize, or exhibition. Yet there always remains the element of subjectivity and the contemporary diversity of styles and materials is matched by the particular tastes of the tastemakers—gallerists, curators, critics.

Still, this is a show has a prize and that is one of the things that makes the premise worthwhile. The “winner” will receive an one-person exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum. Perhaps this was seen by the Brooklyn as a good way to repair an image that was sullied by the Sensation exhibition. I suspect that the winner will not provide us with anything nearly as controversial as Chris Ofili’s Holy Virgin Mary, though he or she may utilize materials that are outside the expectations of the general viewer.

In addition to the Brooklyn Museum’s role in Work of Art, I was pleasantly surprised at the caliber of the judges. In particular, the presence of critic Jerry Saltz on the panel of judges seems to add credence. In fact, the quality of the comments that the judges make is possibly the best feature of the show. After each competition “project” and its subsequent exhibition by all the artist contestants, the judges speak with the highest and lowest scoring artists. These limited critique events are actually something that I would suggest art school students watch. These comments give some relevant insights into what curators and gallerists are actually thinking when they are assessing the work of artists for exhibitions.

The individual projects that artists must complete are where the competitive nature of the show produces a problem. The artists are coming to the show with pre-established styles, adept at creating with certain materials but perhaps ignorant of the methods needed to work in other media. Most artists will not be overly proficient in a great multitude of media. When some artists failed to produce pleasing results in a competition based on assemblage it was by no fault of their own. Other artists, used to working with specific themes, did not fare well when trying to produce a book cover design—something that is actually considered the work of graphic designer and not a fine artist. There are corporate sponsorships at play here that have more to do with money than with good art. Are we supposed to think that Penguin Books approached Bravo with the idea of having an artist do a book cover for them?

The final decision of the judges in the first episode, wherein the artists had to produce portraits of each other, proved that they believed a “portrait” had to be based in a somewhat representational image of a person. The more abstract images, whether or not they revealed more about the subject than a mere image of that person, were not well received by the judges. Since there was no indication that this was something the judges expected, breaking the traditional mould for portraiture proved to be problematic. As in the actual artworld, the contestants found that it is always a risk to break the rules since sometimes it pay off and other times it does not.


What makes Work of Art more palatable is that the artists seem to have an innate understanding that, though they want the prize money and the Brooklyn Museum show, they are really in competition with themselves more than each other. They are challenging themselves to do bigger, better things. Bravo’s other competition shows seem much more cutthroat. Participants seem willing to sabotage one another. These artists are more apt to—believe it or not—help each other with their projects. The ideas and the images are going to live or die on their own, but the work is so diverse that the artists are more willing to help when they have more expertise with a certain material, offer suggestions (which may eventually lead to sabotage), or simply to help lift some enormous object.

This is the most redeeming part of the entire program. Contemporary art is built upon the art of the past. Each artist is indebted to his or her predecessors and contemporaries. Sharing and borrowing is part of this system and appropriation is at the heart of much contemporary art. Maybe these artists understand that better than the executives at Bravo.

Whatever Happened to Art Criticism?

The contemporary art world, like any subculture, is a symbiotic community. While talent, hard work, and timing are factors through which artists and artworks find a place into the canon of art history, there is also a good deal of nepotism. This “I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine” state of affairs has resulted in a recent dearth of genuine art criticism—though this may have always been part of the system.

Writing on art still exists, but it often avoids stating strong opinions in black and white. An article in the February 2009 issue of Art in America touched on this in terms of market characteristics. The author lamented the loss of standards of quality which he claims has been one reason for such sharp increases in the valuation of art by living artists. A major point was that a pluralist view in the art world, along with a refusal to state that there could feasibly be some system of quality standards, has resulted in a lack of experts who can truly assess this.

I do not expect that the reviews written in major art periodicals and newspapers are going to be scathing censures of particular exhibitions or artworks. I have first hand experience with the inherent dilemmas of writing art criticism. When I was writing art reviews for a newspaper in Boise, Idaho I routinely wrote about exhibits and artists that interested me—ones I felt had merit. One gallery owner complained to my editor that his gallery’s shows were never covered. My assignment, with my editor’s full understanding that I would likely be less generous with my compliments, was to review their next show. The gallery owner didn’t complain again.

The art community in any region or municipality is small. Even New York and London have quite manageable art communities. You can accurately surmise that Boise’s is a rather small one. Even when my reviews were mostly positive I would sometimes point out problematic display issues or inconsistencies in the selected works. Once, after mentioning that the enormous frame on a particular landscape painting dwarfed the better features of the piece, the artist took me task. While attending opening receptions during the following Boise First Thursday festivities I was harassed and followed by the artist from one gallery to another. I eventually left earlier than I had planned and decided that large opening receptions were likely not the best setting to view works anyway.

I think this might be one reason for the lack of true critical writing. In the smallness of the art world it is far too easy to anger not only an artist, gallery director, or curator, but the associates of those same people. Unless the critic has a stable position with a particular publication she may be walking on very thin ice when negative criticisms are relayed.

However, all publications are complicit in this lack of true criticism. In an effort to publish what sells best, journalistic integrity is compromised. What we are offered, instead, are synoptic reviews that provide a written facsimile of the exhibition inventory and layout, while avoiding any meaty discussion of the works’ merit, or lack of it. Expert opinion may still just be opinion, but it has the backing of the author’s expertise which should carry the appropriate weight. It is always the similar opinions of many experts that create a consensus that work is of great value. The critical opinion of one bad review will not end a career.

This disappointment in a lack of real criticism was made manifest in an art review of an exhibition of work by Stanley William Hayter, printed in the March 2009 issue of Artnews (the exhibit was of Hayter’s work from 1940-50 at Francis M. Nauman Fine Art, written by Alfred MacAdam). I had been immensely disappointed that I was not able to view the exhibition. The artist’s work has made a significant impact on my own printmaking. I own the catalogue raisonne of his prints and have read most of the available literature on his life and work. I even own several of Hayter’s etchings.

I could have written a more accurate critical review without seeing the exhibit or even knowing which specific works were in it. This was merely a biographical snippet gleaned from either sources I had already read, or perhaps from the catalogue for this exhibit. I gained no new knowledge or insight on the artist, his work, or even this show. There wasn’t even a sense of what specific techniques comprised the works in the exhibit—how the works related both to one another and the decade in which they were created.

I don’t fault Mr. MacAdam for all this. He gave readers exactly what the magazine editors had requested. And the brief piece was helpful if only to provide an introduction of Hayter’s work to a much larger audience. At the same time, I wanted something more substantial from the review, and from many others that I read.

Instead of just accepting the way things are I take this as an opportunity to make what little difference I can. While this blog continues to be written with those who are somewhat estranged from the art world in mind, I now have more resolve to provide additional critical analysis than what may already be available. In fact, there will certainly be some attention paid to Stanley Hayter in the coming weeks. Assessing art and artists of our time is valuable for everyone and hopefully creates more interest in a field that remains insignificant to far too many.

Seven Days in the Art World

A new book was recently released that attempts to offer a glimpse into the nebulous realm of the contemporary art world. Those who are not part of the inside conversation of the cultural elite tend to give this segment of society little attention. It isn’t difficult to understand why since contemporary forms and mediums are often non-traditional, at best, and the language used to describe and analyze them is coded and dense.

However, Sarah Thornton has made a noble attempt at demystifying art, artists, and the system that envelopes them with her book Seven Days in the Art World. The chapters are broken down into some of the main organizational categories that comprise the engine of this sub-culture. Topics include Museums, Galleries, Biennials, Art Fairs, and Critiques. These are the specific places and means by which the art world hums along.

I found the style to be engaging. Thornton draws us into the locations and people, even if the subject is quite new. Yet the book would require a little extra effort for those totally oblivious to the names and places that hold a particular sway over contemporary art and artists. This was noticeable in the chapter on the Venice Biennale. For those who rarely engage high culture, Thornton does describe what a biennial is—simply an exhibition, usually international, that happens at a specific institution or location every two years. She even reveals that Venice is the granddaddy of all biennial exhibitions. However, some of the names and activities could lose the uninitiated reader almost as easily as the labyrinthine streets of the canalled city. More importantly, though, is the maddening pace and sheer offering of exhibition venues that overwhelm a Biennale viewer. Thornton is fully able to convey the exhausting tempo of the Venice Biennale in this chapter.

My favorite chapter is on the group critique, or "crit," as the art school and MFA crowd call it. Thornton chose CalArts as the place to experience a crit in its fullness. While the coastal extremes of LA and New York continually vie for importance, the LA scene does tend to favor the conceptual, theory-based artist. Thornton spends an entire day—going well past midnight—with the art school students in their group critique.

The personalities of the student-artists come forth. The group of bohemians at times argues polar opposite views based in social, class, gender, and ethnic theories. The entire spectacle is seen as a performance-based work in its own right by Thornton. Everyone is striving to find his or her own artistic identity through the process of the critique. The class has its high and low points. The language becomes quite oblique at times and Thornton later has to ask students for definitions for some of the artspeak terminology thrown about.

This portrayal of a crit is spot on. Better yet is Thornton’s analysis of the MFA system and its successes and failures. Her description of how the art student comes to the MFA program confident in his or her abilities and artistic vision, only to be torn down to the smallest, most essential beliefs that can then be built upon, is exceptional. For over a decade I have attempted to describe this very process to former students and friends as they have entered MFA programs. No one seems to understand it fully until they experience it first hand. For this chapter alone, I would be willing to use this as a text for an undergraduate studio art course.

Seven Days in the Art World is a great starting point for anyone interested in contemporary art. Those initiated into the fold will see themselves and others they know within the pages. Those at the periphery will be welcomed farther into the circle.