Comparing Internet Art to Art Since 1960

Now that I’m in school mode again I’ve been studying up on my art history. I’ve gone back to basics, returning to the Thames & Hudson “World of Art” series to try and get a broader understanding of recent art practices. I really like the no nonsense format of these Thames & Hudson books; the short length and survey style tends to reel in the art theory hyperbole and get to the point. For example, Michael Archer’s one paragraph sum-up (no diagrams!) of Rosalind Krauss’s “Sculpture in the Expanded Field” on pgs. 96 - 97 of Art Since 1960 is breathtaking. Way to go, dude!

In Art Since 1960 this brevity keeps things moving and gives the reader a real sense of progression through a period of art history usually viewed as hopelessly complicated. Personally, I found it really refreshing to get a linear narrative of recent art, without all the “end of history/postmodernism” talk that usually muddies the waters of contemporary art history. I mean, a pretty convincing linear narrative can be constructed from the past 40 years of art making. For instance, although Sherrie Levine’s photos might signal the theoretical “death of originality,” her work wouldn’t have been possible without the photo/text conceptualism of the 70’s. Like, although history or our experience of reality isn’t objective, the (North American/European) art world’s characterizations of “art” have unfolded in a well-documented and somewhat coherent manner, right? Blasphemy!!!

Anyways, in my reading I also went through Rachel Greene’s Internet Art, a survey of the past 15 years of online creativity. It’s pretty good, although kinda pretentious. Like where Art Since 1960 covered 40 years of massive change in 200 or so pages, Internet Art covers its 15 years in the same space. This creates some awkward equivalencies between the two texts, like when you compare (the excellent) Alighiero e Boetti’s name check in Art Since 1960 to the pages upon pages devoted to net artist Heath Bunting or the similar amounts of space devoted to Michael Fried’s brilliant “Art and Objecthood” and Wayne Bremser’s jokey essay on the similarities between Cremaster 3 and the video game Donkey Kong. These discrepancies might point towards a lack of critical perspective in Greene’s text, the “emerging” nature of internet art and its short list of quality work and criticism, and/or a need to fill out this Thames & Hudson book to the standard length. Whatever the reason, the brevity and clear trajectory achieved by Archer in Art Since 1960 is not present in Internet Art.

Nevertheless, Internet Art is an interesting read and made me see my usual concerns (What’s art? What’s innovative?) in a new light. Like, although there is no question that many of the projects in Internet Art are innovative, I took issue with people classifying some of these works as art. For example, in the last chapter entitled “Art for Networks” Greene outlines several works which are freely distributed visual maps documenting relationships between powerful institutions (financial, religious, political, etc.). Greene (via Brian Holmes) classifies the projects as art because they anticipate the eventual dismantling of these relationships through activism and “tactical media” (181-182). In this case, Greene assumes viewers will use the maps for the “good” (i.e. the destruction of capitalism) even though this information is also now available to more conservative concerns including the target institutions themselves (who are, no doubt, also online). I don’t want to get into an argument about the paradoxes of political activism here, but I do think that when work is classified as art its form better live up to its stated intentions.

And why do we have drag “art” into this argument anyway? I have no problem calling this work interesting and exciting activism, “tactical media,” whatever, but it doesn’t seem like art to me. Maybe it’s a readymade, but that’s the best I’ve got. I mean, why don’t the "artists" call this stuff political activism? Why consign it to the nebulous and politically neutered realm of “energy potential[s]” and “signs pointing to a territory that cannot yet be fully signified” (182)?

I’d track this misunderstanding back to online art’s (mis)reading of artists like Hans Haake and Marcel Duchamp, but whatever. I suspect it also has something to do with the money and institutionalized separation the art world bestows (“I can be pretty abnormal without having to isolatedly receive society’s contempt or punishments.” – Lucas Samaras), but whatever. In the end, I think my rejection of “art” works like these is due to my hesitation to jettison names like Picasso, DeKooning, and Nauman (all absent from Internet Art’s index) from our understanding of contemporary art. But, let’s face it, when Thames & Hudson says it’s art, it’s art. So, face your destiny and read these books. Like I said, they’re pretty good.

Art Space Criticism: Is Banksy an Activist or an Artist?

Responding to a recent comment on my blog, I thought I might talk a little bit about Banksy, who does seem to be pretty popular these days.

Banksy (his official website with many images) is a contemporary artist/activist who “defaces” various contexts or objects, creating elaborate graffiti works in urban landscapes, secretly placing unauthorized artworks into exhibitions, or reconfiguring kitschy store bought paintings (see Tim Hawkinson's earlier works). Like many graffiti artists, Banksy’s identity is a secret, ostensibly to protect him from prosecution or jail time, although it’s known that he’s a white male (I think). In his work, Banksy repurposes popular icons or images, employs a direct, illustrative style, and gives his images the theatrical effect of actually existing in the viewer’s space. And while his subversion of popular culture (culture jamming) isn't so new (1989 - Adbusters first published), his creation of large-scale stenciled graffiti seems somewhat innovative in graffiti history (as far as I know…). And Banksy's use of photography and the media to disseminate his images around the world (not unlike Maurizio Cattelan, et. al.) is interesting. A longer, better biography is available (as usual) at Wikipedia.


Now, for me, I find Banksy's work kind of confusing. Because if I think about it as art, I'm bored. But, if I think about it as activism or culture jamming, it's pretty good. Strange, right? I think this goes back to beliefs about art that inform my criticisms. Like, I think "good art" is an innovative play of forms (visual, conceptual, social, etc.). In this way I think art can discover things and doesn't have to illustrate things we already know. Like, if Banksy puts an inflatable detainment camp prisoner in Disneyland's Big Thunder Mountain Railroad ride (ha! See above), he's using site specificity (70's art) and a collage of visual icons (Hannah Hoch's dada collage) to talk about American insularity in a time of war. And that's a fine topic to draw attention to. But I think art can be more than just drawing attention to popular issues through familiar art techniques. Like, I think art can anticipate or identify issues we're not even aware of yet...

But, for a moment, I'll compare Banksy with my idea of good art: an innovative play of forms. Well, his work doesn’t really make use innovative materials (seen any new media graffiti recently?) or use its site(s) in a very sophisticated manner (whoa, it’s like the angel’s actually IN the doorway!). And, often, the content is a little thin, since he attacks big, easy targets (Paris Hilton, Disneyland, the London Zoo) and prefers explicit images (Worry, don’t be happy). Like, what can I say about art that wants to critique Paris Hilton?

So, let's consider it activism, like, take his work on the Israeli West Bank barrier. His work there appealed to our basic humanity and/or our love of basic clichés (i.e. walls should be knocked down…), and simplified a conflict in which the West’s interventions are already controversial (do Palestinians really need Banksy’s opinion/intervention, too?). But at least he was willing to make a stand and put his ideas out there, get feedback, and get it all on the BBC. And while the work may not be breathtakingly insightful, it probably incited more dialogue and coverage for an unacceptable situation. And that seems pretty good to me (not that anyone cares what I think...).

So, in the end, I see what Banksy does as a kind of activism, a vague definition: drawing attention to issues through artistic techniques. But I don't think it's great art. But Guernica, that's great art...right?