Harry Mount tells it like it is when discussing Cy Twombly’s work.
You can see how, in the 50s, this still had a little shock value; although, even then, it was almost 40 years since Duchamp’s urinal first combined the shock effect with an advertised lack of skill – a rich seam, from which Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst are still drawing a generous wage.
Indeed so, talentless and over-rated these so-called “artists” are still beguiling the gullible and the naive with their tedious unimaginative dross and the air-headed guff they use to fool the foolish.
Twombly said of his graffiti paintings, “the feeling is more complicated, more elaborate … it’s more lyrical.” All nebulous adjectives that are so general as to mean nothing. You can say your work is complicated, elaborate and lyrical; but that doesn’t mean that it is either beautiful of skilled. Twombly’s was neither.
Again, spot on. As with the likes of Jackson Pollock.
“talentless”
I think they’re far from talentless. I mean, it requires quite some marketing and sales skill to convince people to pay you staggering amounts of money for, what is essentially, valueless junk.
Okay, I concede that their talent lies elsewhere… 👿
Oh ! This is a shock. As I understood it any idiotic shit turned out by someone who had gone to art college was obviously the produce of an artist so was automatically art.
Must have got confused.
I like Jackson Pollock and I don’t think he can be lumped in with the likes of Damien Hirst, there’s more to him than that.
This is quite interesting :http://www.jackson-pollock.com/jackson-pollock-drip.html Check out the article on Pollock and fractals.
Thornavis is quite correct. Pollock didn’t paint those large drip canvasses because he couldn’t draw – he certainly could, since he began as a graphic artist – but developed the technique from a complex set of ideas about maths and physics. To lump him in with charlatans like Twombly, Hirst and Emin is to do him a great disservice. Hirst doesn’t even make his own stuff but contracts it out to unnamed labourers. He is also possibly the dullest man I have ever met and has the soul of a local authority accountant. And Emin is a self-serving pseudo-pisshead who gives the art world a frisson of slumming it with someone ‘authentic’.
I shall now go back to sitting in the corner.