Naked Lunch

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Seeing that signature strikes me as a really amateur, moronic, arrogant and outdated trope.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.