How I actually feel about the quote-un-quote art world…

…. And why I think it’s time to better understand and articulate my often disappointing-and-adversarial relationship to it. 

Interesting that I just used the word adversarial. 

A few weeks ago I had several encounters in the same week with the “art world.”  Or so I was referring to it then.  And it occurred to me that the term “art world” is

a.  very broad

and b. clearly layered with some of my own gunk.  

It’s a term that I use with a fair amount of regularity, and generally with a fair amount of disdain.  Disdain and disappointment. 

But why?  And what the hell does this term mean to me? 

It’s time to unlock its hold over me and unravel some of its mysteries. 

What I usually mean when I say “art world.” 

It’s this: “art world” is my term for the overly-heady, disembodied world of art and artists that feels incomprehensible unless you are part of the elite intellectual circle from which it came, complete with the appropriate reference materials and cleverly interwoven concepts. 

It’s a world of floating heads.  A world of art statements that read more like an encyclopedic entry of current buzzwords than anything applicable to day-to-day existence. 

It’s the realm of “clever” art, emaciated art, art that seems to reference itself and other self-referential works. 

It’s work that makes me feel stupid and clueless and inept. 

It’s work that I don’t know how to enter.

It's work that feels separate from any of my lived experiences.  

And yes, if I had to put an image to it, it’s an emaciated, cool-haircutted, 25ish looking hipster that would surely float away if too big a breeze happened by. 

There, I said it. 

This is how I actually feel about the “art world.”

And this is my personal confession of what that term has come to mean to me. 

Which, I understand is largely steeped in my subjective experience, and also, in some animal that is most likely actually serving some purpose in me. 

‘Cause I feel some opposition to it. 

I resent it, yet I’m drawn to it. 

I have disdain for it, yet I’m a part of it.  

Which makes it a loaded, and valuable topic. 

And one that I have a fair amount of energy invested in. 

It’s not that concepts, or the intellect is bad.   I just want to know what it’s in service of.

I like ideas.  I get caught up in my head.  I get it.  I’m not totally exempt…

Two weeks ago I was asked, by a curator here in Prague, what my experience was of being a foreign artist on the Prague scene. 

A good question. 

I started by giving some caveat about how I might not be the best person to discuss it, because my project here is long-term and involves everyday people and isn’t just about an effort to get shows and be known here. 

But… 

Upon further examination, nicely punctuated by several of my “art world” contacts saying they would do something and then not following through that week,

I realized that actually, the reception amongst the “art world” has been poor.  No bites on the exhibition proposals I’ve sent out.  No gallery show lined up.  I get expressions of interest, but no offers. 

So if I don’t go into victim/angry-Jessie mode about this, and instead examine it, it leads to some interesting realizations, all of which have to do with this declaration of what the “art world” means to me. 

And target audiences. 

And getting clear about what my work really is and what it’s here to do.

I draw guts, and bodies.  Messy, gritty human-experiencing bodies.  Bodies that speak and voices that admit the stuff that can be hard to look at. 

Sure, I draw a good-number of floating heads, myself, but actual floating heads, ie the art world that I’ve put myself in opposition to, aren’t going to know what to do with my work, because the work is about the body. 

And it’s bloody and messy and irreverent and self-reflective. 

So there I have it. 

And with great fear and trepidation for the scary prospect of saying things that limit possibilities, I’m realizing that knocking on doors that aren’t interested is a huge waste of my energy. 

Of course, not all galleries, and not all venues fall into this “art world” category. 

But here’s the bottom line for me at the moment:  “duh, find your audience lady.  Narrow it down.  And stop allowing the energy to spill out unnecessarily.” 

Phew.  I said it… 

Been dancing around and saddling up to this for a while now:
Making Meaning in Contemporary Art
Day 4 - Tabor - Bloodletting

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