Precision versus “More-or-Less”

Every art-work that is worthy of our admiration radiates powerful sense of authority. It is constructed and executed in such intricate way that we are forced to see absolute air of necessity spanning across each molecule of it. Nothing could be altered, removed, omitted-we are confronted with an object that is closed, concluded not unlike a flower or an oak. It is realized to its utmost of being and presents itself with unmistakable authority. One of the first impressions upon viewing such art-work is the pleasure of its completeness.

To myself I call it precision, even though it may be not the best name, because it might be confused with some tedious mechanical imitation and that is surely not what is meant here. I think of precision of Shakespearian sonnet or “Madonna of Chancellor Rolin” by van Eyck.

To that difficult end all the efforts of an artist, I believe should be leading. One of the ways to look at it would be to think that the artist at the very start is gazing at a piece of modern art, an empty panel. Minimalism, to be sure. Now-he can simply approve it as the very best he can possibly do and sign it knowing that some respectable museum is still missing an empty canvas as a good example of that important trend in modern art-or, he can take the slippery risk of covering it with some paint, already admitting to belong to the tardy lot that is “still” painting, rather than overstepping the” limitations” of the canvas. Now, the further he goes in constructing the image the further he recedes from the newest in modern art. If some sensible voice should fail to stop him before much is done he may come to the territory where expressiveness, meaning, beauty, observation of visible world ,poetical interpretation of the experienced world is –and that could be very troubling, because that is just what “old” art were about for thousands of years. Why would one want to be in such company?! And that is where modern artist would cautiously pull back and proudly sign his new creation. Something is there, something greasy and spattered with simulated “passion” and ready for admiration.

Introduction

Ever since I started learning painting I found myself surrounded by aggressive front of advocates of modern art.Seemed as if anybody with normally developed cerebrum and intending to be an artist would join the „progressive” adventure of experimentation,discoveries,demolition of the old and erection of the new art.Sounded so enticing,irresistible inarguable-who,after all would be against values like freedom of experimentation,discoveries,unbounded creativity,right? However I found quickly that under the attractive wraps of “creativity” and “progress” and “freedom” instead of new-found treasures of art there were only chaotic smears,arrogant rejection of the world and laughable dilettantism of poseurs,styling themselves as “artistes”.

This absurd situation is so entrenched by now that the whole officialdom of art is infected by it.Each museum,each art center,and most art galleries are directed by people who believe that modern art is not a grim joke but a sanctified mission by and for elevated souls and whoever objects is dim-witted hick.

The subject,like most subjects is complex  and should be cut up into segments,separate boxes and examined issue by issue and I intend to do just that in this blog.Even though the subject is so large I want to leave space and energy for the art I admire and delight in.This way postings will keep a good balance between criticism and rejection of modern art and enthusiasm for any art that deservedly belongs to the glorious continuum we started fourteen thousands years ago.