When art functions as entertainment…

Can visual art such as a painting function as pure entertainment and still be art? My boyfriend argues yes.

I’m reading Sabbath’s Theater by Philip Roth, because said boyfriend left one of many copies at my house and I was destitute for a story. I’m withholding judgment on the tale of those lusty old adulterers for the moment.

Said boyfriend bought his third (fourth?) copy of Sabbath’s Theater because the cover of appealed to him; a sailor leering over a women on a red background. It’s a reproduction of German painter Otto Dix‘s Girl with Sailor. (Unfortunately, the image is not on the internet.) The cover shows the sailor’s face on the front, and where his hand is reaching over a pale woman on the back.

We googled Dix’s other works, which I’ve never cared for and my boyfriend found quite “fun.” Many of his paintings share the same lurid quality. Especially his art deco-ish scenes, I find a flat amalgamation of colors without harmony or meaning. His darker and more straight forward critiques of Wiemar lack subtlety and imagination. We both agree it’s poster art, mere decoration. But am I right to put in that “mere”? Why shouldn’t art be decoration?

Artists’ works are described as important, as agents of social change. That is, I’ve yet to walk into a gallery and been told that it held random bits of pretty fluff with which to decorate.

Art is a loaded term, so, despite my genius and discerning taste on so many levels, I won’t attempt to define art here. But I’m intereseted in what you think. What do you want out of art? Casual amusement, to be moved, to be entertained, to think differently because of it? Have I elevated art to unrealistic ideals by expecting more than decoration out of it?

Poster art only?

Art Basel Miami: What a tease

Sand, surf and palm trees, clubbing and shopping…not to mention a world-class gathering of galleries and exhibitions, all in the gloomy month of December. What better place for a the offspring of Art Basel in Switzerland than sunny, energetic Miami Beach? And what better time than this weekend? Let’s compare visual forecasts:

In case you’re confused, the first image is New York and the second is Miami. Is sun enough to lure people to open their shrinking wallets, when even Black Friday fell a little flat? I doubt it. Not sunny weekend is going to save the cotemporary art market from belt-tightening. Art Basel kicks off this Thursday, for a long weekend of shows and events through Dec. 7.
According to its cheery website,

Art Basel Miami Beach combines an international selection of top galleries with an exciting program of special exhibitions, parties and crossover events featuring music, film, architecture and design. Exhibition sites are located in the city’s beautiful Art Deco District, within walking distance of the beach and many hotels. An exclusive selection of more than 250 leading art galleries from North America, Latin America, Europe, Asia and Africa will exhibit 20th and 21st century artworks by over 2,000 artists.

Art Basel Miami sounds a hell of a lot better than fighting through tourist-infested Rockefeller Center to buy my dad a bowtie from the only store that makes them wide enough for his taste. I could even go dancing without putting out a coat, gloves, and a scarf. I stare out the window at the dark; it’s only 5 pm. Ah Miami. Just daydreaming of it puts the Beach Boys in my head. And that awful Will Smith song Welcome to Miami. Guess it’s not all fun and games, especially with drooping sales from recent auctions. What a tease though!

Excuse my language (and blame the Met)

but the Met has discovered the orginal ‘dickhead’. As I said, excuse the language. But it’s not my language, it’s on this plate. Look closely at the head.

This Renaissance Italian plate from 1536 is inscribed:

OGNI HOMO ME GUARDA COME FOSSE UNA TESTA DE CAZI
(Every man looks at me as if I were a dickhead).

Part of the exhibition Art and Love in Renaissance Italy, this example makes me wonder what exactly the curators are trying to communicate about love. The rest of the exhibition is safer, with some more stereotypical Venus and Cupid paintings and less phallic ceramics.
I would speculate that there are some angry females on the staff at the Met, except really, when else could you slip such an amusing piece into a show? Unless they devoted a show to phallic art, and goodness knows with all those Greek vases there is more than enough material. It makes me wonder what else the Met have stored in dusty corners of their warehouses.