Today we are in Naked,
which is one of my favourite cafés
to kill time in. Quiet, dark, comfortable, with nice teas and,
seemingly, nice things to look at on the wall.
As with my usual
approach, I'm just going to view whatever is in front of my when I
sit down.
Title: Light Industry
Oil Painting.
Artist: James C Cowland
Price: £225. (This
price strikes me as a cost + labour + percentage, as opposed an
evaluation of its worth)
It is a painting,
roughly just under a metre by half a metre. As is typical with many a
contemporary paintings, it is loose in brush strokes, simple in its
colour range, fairly gauche looking and.... oh shit... oh no...what's
this? Signed? Signed?!
Why does anyone still
do this? As a gesture of authenticity, craftsmanship - arguably it is
an impotent gesture, that speaks of a lack of self-confidence. It
makes the work more about the artist than the painting, as it draws
your attention away from the content and towards the idea that you
are looking at 'fine art' by an artist. It breaks that '4th' wall (if there could said to be one with painting) and makes it all about the artist.
Seeing that signature strikes me as a really amateur, moronic, arrogant and outdated trope. So let's move on to the
subject matter, which is a bit more interesting, before I really do cut my dick off.
Depicted are two young
white people, sitting on a sofa in front of a t.v, dimly lit, viewed
at an angle. The girl sits behind a laptop, cig in hand. The guy has
his hand on his chin. It is not clear (and this is a good thing) as
to whether the couple are in a state of ennui, or agitation, or
relaxation. As subject matters go, I'd take this over a naked woman
made of swirls, but there are some annoying qualities here as well.
While the loose brush strokes fit the malaise of the subject matter,
the framing of the piece seems cack-handed. There is perhaps either
too much or not enough dead space around the couple, and they end up
being mercilessly centre-framed. Maybe this isn't an issue really - I
don't think its necessarily a legitimate criticism, but it strikes me
as a bit...accidental. Just like the subject matter, which would
seem... incidental. It's about 'intentionality' really. Which is
sort of an art-crime to say. I'm a cheeky art-man, I am.
A brief detour on this
point: there is something called the intentionality fallacy, which
basically says that the intentions of an artist aren't important when
considering a work of art. It's a classic defence in art school to
say "my work is meant to be about...". When no one can tell
this, and the work actually is very obviously something else, then
the artists intentions don’t mean shit. By extension, looking for
their intentions can be a dangerous game. A lot of people like to
take the piss out of how far people read into works of art, with some
hating the idea (the work is what the work is, you gotta like, feel
the art, maaan) and others seeing it as the entire point, but
investing too much in the notion of a solid 'meaning' or truth to a
piece (I think it's about love and death... but I need to ask the
artist!).
The reality is,
intentionality can sometimes be important, and it can sometimes be
irrelevant, and it is often a bit of both, in moderation. It is a
boring but honest answer. Certain works just don't require
understanding the intentions of a maker. Others have their intentions
hidden on purpose, or their makers are unknown, while others are made
at random with algorithms, and in a sense have no intention. Some
works can be enhanced by the intention. Some require an understanding
of an intention to operate successfully. All meanings are augmented by knowledge of intentions, but they can be actively ignored to enjoy an artwork.
In our case, with this
painting... I find myself trying to appraise it based on the notion
that someone might want to buy it for their home (café culture of
paintings and price tags says as much), or that it operates as a work
purely for a café audience (it clearly doesn't, the café is
incidental), or that is also operates as an advertisement for further
work. So intentionality is important here. If the highly complex
messages and decisions in the work are mere chance elements, it would
make me think twice about collecting, and it clearly wants collecting
(for £255). As it happens, these seemingly chance elements also
render the painting a bit dumb and amateurish - and not in an
intentional way! Unless it's so subtle its genius, but then again
you could argue it's too subtle and so fails to find an audience.
What a cynical work that would be. Although if this were the case and
someone told me, I would suddenly find it pretty genius. Welcome to
art!
I'd like to see the
other work from this artist, to give it some additional context, but
either way, due to the trite painterly style, slightly amateurish
subject matter framing, and wince-worthy hand signing, I wouldn't say
this was a massively interesting or competent work of art.
One last point - the
title of the piece really changes how we might view it. "Light
Industry" makes the painting far more playful in its tone. It's
slightly sardonic, making the subject matter really work for the
title. However, does it really make sense? When has anyone said that
working on your laptop at home, looking like a lazy fucker, has ever
been light industry? Perhaps the 'creative industries' - an
uncritical and yet all pervasive term - would be more suitable here.
To sum up - it's a
relatively interesting painting, reasonably executed, and it finds a
suitable home in a café (amongst the lazy angst of many a
tea-drinker), could either speak to or of a younger generation, and
with the title becomes a bit of confusing, if thoughtful, social
commentary.
In the context of a
café, it's better than most.
So far so good for Naked, so I might have to come back and look at the other works! By
the way, the tea is great. The café is really under-used for some
reason. I had the special jasmine tea, which came in a clever tea
dispensing device, and tasted pretty damn good.