Saturday, October 06, 2018

THE THINGS THAT NUDITY REVEALS (part 4)

April Greiman gained fame as a "pioneer of digital graphic design." In 1986 she was commissioned to produce an issue of Design Quarterly magazine. She converted the entire issue into a  nude self-portrait, a large (2' x 6') poster littered with graphic symbols.
 
 


The image became legendary, reproduced in textbooks and taught in art classes.  Critics explained its importance this way:

A profoundly influential design piece.... Had it only shown the capabilities of Macintosh design circa 1986, [this poster] would have been memorable. By also exploring the philosophical and personal ramifications of digital design, this piece reached greatness. Since then, Ms. Greiman has remained on the forefront of digital design and its inherent possibilities.

Another critic gushed about the importance of Ms. Grieman's groundbreaking image, concluding: "by 1990 the color-capable Macintosh II computer and improved software had spurred a technological and creative revolution in graphic design as radical as the 15th century shift from hand-lettered manuscript books to Gutenberg's movable type."

I won't dispute the influence of Ms. Greiman or the importance of digital art, but when it comes to the real litmus test-- assessing the quality of a single work of art-- this picture strikes me as little more than a shopping cart. The new digital technology enabled Greiman to scoop up images that struck her fancy and toss them effortlessly into her cart.  It required none of the hard won observations, talent, skill, distortions, consciousness or heartbreak that created the glue for the more interesting nudes we've been viewing.

This is not creation and it hardly even qualifies as curation.

Which brings us to another "thing that nudity reveals."  There's nothing like a nude picture to strip away gimmick and artifice, exposing the naked truth of the image.

9 comments:

kev ferrara said...

David,

I agree, not only that the work in question is vacuous -- creativity for its own sake being a dumb heuristic -- but also that, just because important critics assert something does not make it so.

Once you concede that creativity for its own sake is dumb... and that "historical importance to the history of art" and the opinions of the anointed mandarins (who arrogate the determination of such things) have no necessary value, doesn't that force you to reconsider some of your prior arguments?

David Apatoff said...

Kev Ferrara-- I'm sure I should be reconsidering many of my arguments from over the years, but I'm not sure which ones you're alluding to. If I've ever sided with the anointed mandarins of art, I assure you it was completely by mistake, and I will rush to correct my error.

kev ferrara said...

David,

I was actually more intrigued by you coming out against "creativity for its own sake" in criticizing this piece. We've had rows about that before. Do you acknowledge that?

Regarding appeals to authoritative opinion, you often adopt quotes by famous writers, thinkers, scientists, or scientific notions in order to bolster your opinions.

For more specific examples, obviously I can't scour a decade's worth of posts due to time constraints, nor are there particular words I can quick-search that will flag up examples. And I do want to credit you, while we're on the topic, for, for example, speaking against both Greenbert and Kramer, for instance, or dodging critical consensus on Panter and Koons. So obviously, this doesn't happen all the time. But relying on faulty memory, I seem to recall direct or indirect appeals to authority on Picasso, Modernism generally, Postmodern philosophy, Twombly, and Barnett Newman. I apologize I don't have time to specify, and of course I may have some of these wrong, for which I rush to apologize in advance.

David Apatoff said...

Kev Ferrara-- OK, I get what you mean. To clarify, my main objection to this piece is less that it's "creativity for its own sake" and more that it's bad creativity. The design strikes me as a careless jumble, a composition created by cuisinart-- no balance, no harmony, no meaningful prioritization or beautiful contrast or thoughtfulness, such as I'd require from abstract art.

I've also read the analyses and the interviews about the content of this piece in my search for clues about its importance. Do these floating symbols have narrative meaning? Are they random manifestations of the subconscious,as with dadaism? But the deeper I get, the more shallow this picture seems.

For example, I recognize the figure over Ms. Greiman's right breast from the wall of Lascaux. I've read about the hand signals down the side. These and other elements seem like a vague cluster of pseudo-intellectual associations, without the management or control by a human consciousness that I'd expect from an important work of art.

So in my view, it's not that "art for art's sake" can't be valid, it's that this artist doesn't do it well. Perhaps the true sociological significance of this piece is that it heralds an era where the visual qualities of art are no longer important, and audiences widely accept a sloppy, unskilled mess as long as the concept appeals.

You are correct, I do often adopt quotes by famous writers, thinkers and scientists. There are a great many that I admire, and they make many points far more eloquently than I could. From my perspective, the trick is not to defer to authorities because they are famous, but rather to admire them when I think they are correct (just as I dispute them when I believe they are wrong).

You're also right, I do admire work by Picasso, Barnett Newman, Twombly, and others. I enjoy some modernism. I like them less because of what authorities tell me and more about what my eyes tell me.

Finally, when it comes to the "historical importance to the history of art,"
I agree that historical importance has no "necessary" value but I'm probably willing to accept value in a wider array of qualities than you are.

If a picture is a rough initial draft of a concept that goes on to inspire legions of other artists, I may find that initial burst of inspiration interesting despite its lack of refinement. Or, I may assign a picture extra value because I find it hilarious, even when the drawing is haphazard. I admit I find April Greiman's picture more interesting than its visual qualities alone would suggest because she decided to take off her clothes and give the wide world life sized, unearned intimacy. An unorthodox choice. The visual image remains awful, but for me her choice makes the image an unusual and more interesting document. People like images for all kinds of reasons. Is that wrong?

kev ferrara said...

My issue with "creativity for its own sake" is that, as a guiding principle, it doesn't tell an artist how to get anywhere. It almost assumes that there's no such thing as composition or no reason for such a thing; and so there is nothing really to be taught to young artists, either by art history or by great past art. It is also teaches solipsism instead of service.

I like your phrase "unearned intimacy." But what I feel here is cadaverous and inert rather than intimate. Also I feel only a tiny difference in temperament between Greiman's meaningless symbol-strewn exhibitionism and the Illiterate Soft-Core Horseshit™ we get from Nicki Minaj. Reminds me of that dreadful Jerry Saltz Work of Art reality game-show where the hot blonde contestant's solution to every challenge was to take off her clothes and take a selfie. (Any time an artist strips, the odds are good they don't have an idea.)

I am all for hilarious art. But I would love to find a work, a single image, that is both hilarious and profound. Can you think of one?

David Apatoff said...

Kev Ferrara wrote: "I would love to find a work, a single image, that is both hilarious and profound. Can you think of one?"

Well, that depends on how zealously you guard the definition of "profound." I've never read a Shakespeare comedy as profound as Hamlet or King Lear, yet there are Shakespeare comedies we still regard as profound in the sense that they are astutely written with depth of understanding about human nature.

Measured by that standard of profundity, I've seen images by Steinberg, Thurber and Herriman that I would call both hilarious and profound. For example, the Steinberg drawing I reproduced here: https://illustrationart.blogspot.com/2017/06/my-favorite-lightning.html is an entire philosophy class in one hilarious image. I know we disagree about the quality of the drawing in the Thurber cartoon about the man returning home to the oppressive wife house, but that shouldn't stop the drawing from being both profound and hilarious. I think the William Steig drawing I reproduced here: https://illustrationart.blogspot.com/2006/12/few-smart-drawings.html , displays profundity with the light-as-air device of the chained flower. It displays the insidious, protective, narrow minded side of that dreamy, "perfect" relationship. You might say, "Not the most profound" and I would not argue, but I think there is profundity in these drawings.

I agree with your take on April Greiman (although I will never forgive you for reminding me about Jerry Saltz's execrable game show, which I had blocked from my memory). Her famous image may mark a milestone in the evolution of digital imagery but it also marks a milestone in the evolution of art toward Tracey Emin, who not only exposes herself fully but also advances the art by displaying penetralia such as her personal used condoms and soiled underwear (Hah! Try doing that digitally!)

Greiman may not rate on the visual quality scale or the intellectual content scale, but let's not forget about the "gawk" scale, with "wonderment" at the top and "slobber" at the bottom. Greiman's and Emin's eagerness to expose themselves fully, and in high rez, is at least psychologically interesting enough to qualify them for a rating on the gawk meter. As the line between art and gawk erodes, that could be just as good.

kev ferrara said...

Greiman may not rate on the visual quality scale or the intellectual content scale, but let's not forget about the "gawk" scale, with "wonderment" at the top and "slobber" at the bottom. Greiman's and Emin's eagerness to expose themselves fully, and in high rez, is at least psychologically interesting enough to qualify them for a rating on the gawk meter. As the line between art and gawk erodes, that could be just as good.

This ^ "Gawk Scale" rant is one for the ages. Both funny and profound, actually.

I guess "profound" is one of those rabbit-hole words, that the more one pursues it, the deeper into the philosophical and linguistic weeds one gets. Maybe the question might be reworded; What is insightful, deeply connective, startling, and awesome to contemplate... yet also visually presentable, and funny?

The cagey Steig and lightning Steinberg examples are equally strong contenders. Thanks! It make me think that it may be so that the more realistic a picture looks, even if highly exaggerated, the less funny it can be. (A theory worth considering as it may point to a deep insight about humor.)

One bone: I feel Wonderment is getting a bad rap by being assigned as one of the poles on your Gawk Scale. I understand wonder as a kind of intuitive sense, like beauty, that points to something deeper, possibly magical, but surely meaningful within and beyond. Maybe "Bedazzlement" or "Spectacle" might have a stronger connotation of shallow, obnoxious sensation?

chris bennett said...

I am all for hilarious art. But I would love to find a work, a single image, that is both hilarious and profound. Can you think of one?

Not hilarious, but I've always found this painting both funny and profound:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portrait_of_Monsieur_Bertin

kev ferrara said...

Not hilarious, but I've always found this painting both funny and profound:

I agree on funny, but not profound.