Saved for prosperity
Here is a couple of art rants that i wrote;
Why artists
I think the main role of an artist in todays culture has shifted; our work is not so important any more, on the most part, we have to admit, it is pretentious, self absorbed drivel (yes even my own, especially my own).
The only reason we exist now is to be artists, the public psyche needs to know that there are people out there being wacky; getting fucked up on exotic drugs and generally being motivated purely by the creative whims of our privileged and pickled brains. Just like the role of the comedian is to exorcise all the demons of the publics collected unconscious, we as artists are obligated to burn off the out mass of creative energy with decadence and style.
The art world is tolerated and even supported by the government because the general public needs to know that artists exist, because if artists exist then it is always possible to be more than the grey office rat, or disposable factory body. We are the oppressive machines reassurance that he doesn’t exist.
It is our right, Nay our obligation too be the crazy libertines we are painted to be; the glorious drains on the public resources that the tabloids scream us to be; the deviant ego-idiots we are presumed to be.Take today for instance, for the last three hours I have been reclined at the window watching the sky shit down with snow; I have observed the sky darken with thick impenetrable and pendulous clouds only to have the view blanketed by a sky of feather rain. Why did I do this? Well if I didn’t, who would? Apart from snatched glances and break time runs more occupied with cigarettes and sandwiches than the sublime, who else, but the artists, are afforded the privilege?
Hey Art Boy
You!
Yes you with the achingly fashionable charity shop hat.
Why are you here?
Really? Why?
Do you want to be an artist? I think most of you do, but is that enough?
I don’t think it is. In fact I know its not, let me put it like this: would you still be doing your inane little paintings if you wasn’t on this course?Art comes from a need, an itch that can’t be scratched. I’m writing these words at half past two in the morning because I know the half formed sentences would spin round my head until I got them out or drowned them in whiskey.
What’s your motivation? Deadlines? Prestige? Did you fall into the subject because you weren’t very good at P.E. or math’s?
Please examine your reasons for being here, its not to late too change courses, try Drama.The rest of you, Wake the fuck up, you’ve got three years of doing nothing but the subject you have a real passion for, and if you haven’t got that passion get it or fuck off- this tiny industry hasn’t the room for any more half hearted anemic piss souls. It’s full.
Where’s the shock? The awe? Years ago Art students were feared by other students, we had a reputation for a deep thirst for life, med students would talk about us in hushed tones and engineering students wouldn’t go to our party’s. Now how does everyone see us? Aloof, pretentious and bland that’s how, and the sad thing is mostly there not far wrong.How are we to expect anyone to get excited about our work if we can barely manage to ourselves? If we are to be packed off into our white cubes and only be visited by the incestuous art scene niche market, let’s have a good time. If I can’t reach people with my work, then let them tremble at my capacity for decadence.
But let me assure you that although my work is intended to be humorous, jokes are the only thing I am absolutely serious about: I am totally sincere in my insincerity.
Want to know a secret?
Art is one of the most hedonistic pursuits there is, Art does NOT save lives, Art does NOT build grand or useful buildings, Art does NOT feed the hungry: Art is surplus. If we, as a species, finally do get off this rock and settle other planets, which spaceship do you think the artists will be on- I’ll tell you my friend, the last fucking spaceship, that’s where, behind the TV chefs and middle management.Being an art student is a heavy responsibility, it is our job to give the other students a bad name, even when we graduate we are not going to be useful.
Please don’t take this as an insult or let this fact get you down, it means the only standards you have to live up to are your own. be warned though; these should be ludicrously high, everything you do should be a glorious failure to the ideals in your own head. Most people fear failure, why not revel in it? Failure implies a trying and trying implies you’ve actually fucking lived. Sure our work is buried in a cloak of excess, but what is excess if not a trying to grab life by the lapels and lick its salty face? Anything else is just the pseudo-intellectual masturbation that we are accused of.
Why artists
I think the main role of an artist in todays culture has shifted; our work is not so important any more, on the most part, we have to admit, it is pretentious, self absorbed drivel (yes even my own, especially my own).
The only reason we exist now is to be artists, the public psyche needs to know that there are people out there being wacky; getting fucked up on exotic drugs and generally being motivated purely by the creative whims of our privileged and pickled brains. Just like the role of the comedian is to exorcise all the demons of the publics collected unconscious, we as artists are obligated to burn off the out mass of creative energy with decadence and style.
The art world is tolerated and even supported by the government because the general public needs to know that artists exist, because if artists exist then it is always possible to be more than the grey office rat, or disposable factory body. We are the oppressive machines reassurance that he doesn’t exist.
It is our right, Nay our obligation too be the crazy libertines we are painted to be; the glorious drains on the public resources that the tabloids scream us to be; the deviant ego-idiots we are presumed to be.Take today for instance, for the last three hours I have been reclined at the window watching the sky shit down with snow; I have observed the sky darken with thick impenetrable and pendulous clouds only to have the view blanketed by a sky of feather rain. Why did I do this? Well if I didn’t, who would? Apart from snatched glances and break time runs more occupied with cigarettes and sandwiches than the sublime, who else, but the artists, are afforded the privilege?
Hey Art Boy
You!
Yes you with the achingly fashionable charity shop hat.
Why are you here?
Really? Why?
Do you want to be an artist? I think most of you do, but is that enough?
I don’t think it is. In fact I know its not, let me put it like this: would you still be doing your inane little paintings if you wasn’t on this course?Art comes from a need, an itch that can’t be scratched. I’m writing these words at half past two in the morning because I know the half formed sentences would spin round my head until I got them out or drowned them in whiskey.
What’s your motivation? Deadlines? Prestige? Did you fall into the subject because you weren’t very good at P.E. or math’s?
Please examine your reasons for being here, its not to late too change courses, try Drama.The rest of you, Wake the fuck up, you’ve got three years of doing nothing but the subject you have a real passion for, and if you haven’t got that passion get it or fuck off- this tiny industry hasn’t the room for any more half hearted anemic piss souls. It’s full.
Where’s the shock? The awe? Years ago Art students were feared by other students, we had a reputation for a deep thirst for life, med students would talk about us in hushed tones and engineering students wouldn’t go to our party’s. Now how does everyone see us? Aloof, pretentious and bland that’s how, and the sad thing is mostly there not far wrong.How are we to expect anyone to get excited about our work if we can barely manage to ourselves? If we are to be packed off into our white cubes and only be visited by the incestuous art scene niche market, let’s have a good time. If I can’t reach people with my work, then let them tremble at my capacity for decadence.
But let me assure you that although my work is intended to be humorous, jokes are the only thing I am absolutely serious about: I am totally sincere in my insincerity.
Want to know a secret?
Art is one of the most hedonistic pursuits there is, Art does NOT save lives, Art does NOT build grand or useful buildings, Art does NOT feed the hungry: Art is surplus. If we, as a species, finally do get off this rock and settle other planets, which spaceship do you think the artists will be on- I’ll tell you my friend, the last fucking spaceship, that’s where, behind the TV chefs and middle management.Being an art student is a heavy responsibility, it is our job to give the other students a bad name, even when we graduate we are not going to be useful.
Please don’t take this as an insult or let this fact get you down, it means the only standards you have to live up to are your own. be warned though; these should be ludicrously high, everything you do should be a glorious failure to the ideals in your own head. Most people fear failure, why not revel in it? Failure implies a trying and trying implies you’ve actually fucking lived. Sure our work is buried in a cloak of excess, but what is excess if not a trying to grab life by the lapels and lick its salty face? Anything else is just the pseudo-intellectual masturbation that we are accused of.
posted by Puck at 7:40 PM
2 Comments:
"...even when we graduate we are not going to be useful."
that is so true. i love it.
Thank you, do you have any idea how depressing it is to be an art student who thinks all art is pointless?
well, not depresing at all if im honest
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