Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 07:09:33 -0500 From: John Young <jya-AT-pipeline.com> Subject: Re: Re ;-) Ostrow wrote: >The failure this speaks of, is the failure of ambition in that if one >aspire for the impossible -- they learn what is possible -- if they aspire >for the possible -- they achieve only that which is already known. This aptly describes the failure of parasites of artists -- critics, scholars, curators, dealers, auctioneers, investors, patrons -- groupies of a certain over-vaunted critical ability to see and evaluate the hard and risky work of artists, that is to devaluate it for covert purposes, that is to plaigarize, dissumlate, distort, repackage, mischaracterize, aw hell, actually to steal art form its creators and call it Art, the Industry, the Construct, the History, the Theory, the Racket, the Market, the Ravage of Savages unable to understand and thus only envy what artitsts do. No doubt Saul's deep misunderstanding of art is itself an art of frustration, and in that way I can appreciate his best stuff even when he cannot get the description of it correct. So, yeah, Saul is an artist, too, poor bastard, and nobody gets what he's creating in his heart and mind, concealed as it is in all artists by the products they proffer in lieu of the genuine stuff. Shit, no artist is worth a queen's fart at public presentation, and thus must suffer the professional art-hustling assholes who shower the world with vulgar misrepresentations called "shows." Who the fuck first dreamed up a show of art? Whoever that was, was the first in line in an endless stream of art enemies of commentators, critics, dealers, investors, and so on. Yeah, yeah, even the enemies in their own bizarre fashion occasionally wreak art in their blundering, or as Brad aptly says, by failure. Then they get it on, and know what it's like to be trashed for the right reasons. One of which is the irresistable desire of artists, anybody, to get public appreciation, any appreciation, and have no way out of the trap set by god's joke of creating way too many human kotsches wanting to be the supreme one's inheritor, and being too stupid to grasp that it's all in the imagination, the whole damn mess, the inability to be, not make, not do, not accomplish worth. What is nice about hidden art, never getting out of imagination, is it is always a success, pure masterpiece theater. You let it out, it's doomed to failure. Artists let theirs out, the others connoisseur theirs. --- from list avant-garde-AT-lists.village.virginia.edu ---
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