Questions of provenance while museumgoing
Howdy all,
Here I am in your inboxes, once again, and this time it’s to let you know in advance that I’ll be hosting another workshop contemplating art. I’ve been hanging out in the London Writers’ Salon Zoom rooms since the early days of the pandemic so I’m thrilled to be finally leading a session there on June 6 at 7 pm CET (GMT+2). In 13 Ways of Looking at Art, I’ll be guiding everyone through a few exercises in contemplation – a generative writing workshop that uses works of art as its guide. You can come whether you’re a writer or not, just bring a journal and an hour of attention. If you care to join and aren’t a member, I have a 15% discount code: LWSFRIEND15. If money is an issue, email me. I offer all of my workshops and mentorship sessions on a sliding scale and this is no exception.
In the meantime, I don’t have much by way of my own writing to share. My review of Jonathan Haidt’s book continues making the rounds – quoted by science journalist Melinda Wenner Moyer in her Substack and by tv critic Philip Maciak on the podcast, Mother of It All. Seeing those responses reminds me of that Surrealist triangle that I talk about in my workshops — namely, that I as a writer cannot control how the viewer (in this case reader) responds to my work (in this case, my text). And my own writing, which is a critical response to a book that is of no value neglects a lot of broader context so with each new iteration, we’re getting further away from the actual science at hand; intended meaning is lost and I wonder, what has been gained?
It was a very unusual piece for me, not least because I do not believe in participating in negative publicity. And it’s an odd moment to be a writer if you don’t; the current news cycle is based on outrage. As I watch my work gain traction and successes stack up, I am simultaneously finding it nearly impossible to get editors to buy any writing that is not explicitly political. From a business perspective, I understand, but that’s only because the business model for media (as art) has long been broken. And though there’s the argument that everything is politics these days, I can’t envision myself writing about the forthcoming, potentially world-shifting, European elections. I once sat in on a panel with Wolfgang Tillmans after Brexit and listened to his appeal for art’s power to unite but his argument wasn’t very convincing, the room was nearly empty, and I’m really not sure art is as positively political as people try to make the case for — at least not in the current iteration of the industry.
Here’s what I’d like to write about if I had to intersect arts with politics: Germany’s top rapstar calling himself Apache and singing about being an *Indian (he’s the son of Turkish immigrants and the history of Germany’s Pretendians is decidedly not good) or James Turrell’s incredible underground project in the Arizona desert that is supposed to be open to the public this year but has only been seen by billionaires to date. Instead, because editors in the digital media landscape don’t trust their readers enough, we’ll continue getting dozens of culture studies majors trying to ascribe meaning to the aesthetics of a southern Senator’s kitchen.
One of the biggest political discussions being had in the art world today is about who can display what art, and to whom certain artworks belong, but those stories don’t generate enough clicks to warrant a write-up. They are, after all, boring and bureaucratic to their core. To most outsiders, these stories of reparations are purely theoretical and based in legalese that’s not very easy to parse so they aren’t being given the meaningful space they deserve. I suppose it helps to not have questions of provenance in the backs of minds of museumgoers, doesn’t it? Do you ever consider how a work of art or artifact came to be in a particular location? State museums, like the Kunsthaus Zurich or the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium are more frequently posting insights into provenance but they are the exception more than the rule. The Brussels museum has even gone so far as to create a multi-lingual pamphlet that you can grab while touring the exhibits to see if what you’re looking at has a checkered history. It’s worth seeing if you’re ever in the city (as is the ongoing centennial of Surrealism exhibitions, if you happen to be there this summer).
In any case, this is where I shall leave you. I hope you can take in a bit of art this long holiday week.
Stay well,
Courtney