BAD ART AS PUBLIC MASTURBATION

What is Art?

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Painting from Deviant Art Site

 

The painting above is from the site  Deviant Art which is one of my favorite art sites. There is also a link to that site on the painting shown above – IT IS NOT MY PAINTING so I am giving that site a link here to prove my honest intentio and general bona-fides – I hope they don’t mind. The title of the work is Bad Painting, which prompts the question - what is art?

By contrast to this painting, visit the MagickMirrors.com Art Site and there you will see beautifully structured art work executed with great skill by a relatively unknown artist Hettie Rowley. The enormous skill that real art requires for its execution is pretty damn obvious on that site. By the way, Hettie Rowley teaches art and you can find her school at Art Classes Perth which is great if you live in Western Australia, but maybe a bit of a journey otherwise!

And yet, the ‘bad art’ above has a genuine appeal to me, even though I recognize it objectively as being a childish scribble – it nevertheless has real charm. And this is the eternal conflict we find in  all segments  of all societies – some people think that the value of art is entirely subjective and that is any single person thinks a work to be beautiful, then it is. Antithetical to this view is that which says that if no skill is required in the execution of an artwork then no matter what its subjective appeal – it is essentially worthless.

Which brings me to my viewpoint: It is not an expression of ignorance or to denounce the unskilled works of self-proclaimed artists who produce unstructured outbursts of line, color and form as – JUNK!!!!

Quite frankly, the egalitarian outbursts of the ‘modern art’ (read ‘timeless junk’ for the main part), may have been seen as rational and politically essential in Maoist China, but today in a free society, we are at liberty to say that The Emperor of Modern Art Has No Clothes.

I am personally sick to death almost of seeing unstructured junk assessed by clueless, politically motivated academics winning prizes paid for with public money in  and hanging in our public spaces. This is the Andy Warhol Brillo Pad fiasco re-enacted again and again by such talent-less frauds as Tracy Thingummybob who won the Turner Prize for an unmade bed surrounded with syringes and used condoms.

Whilst this banal and sordid expression of life’s meaning may have deep significance for her, MOST OF US ARE NOT INTERESTED. To call such a thin art is a TRAVESTY and an insult to every competent struggling artist who produces work with real talent and skill.  Such displays are NOT ART – they represent the PUBLIC MASTURBATION OF INCOMPETENT WANNABES  – and they are then awarded prizes by fools who we pay with our taxes. Well I say ENOUGH!!!

This rant will continue in a few days when I have time!

 

Broken soul, People

Welcome To WC Suecho

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Broken-Soul

I started this site after the death of my Aunt from a nerve degeneration disease an complications! It’s a bit personal, a bit public  and a bit sensitive for me now, but this is my way of remembering and also of helping others. She was a single mother and struggled to raise her children without the support of a husband or her parents who died long ago.

She was a magnificent woman and I will always remember her. Her children, my cousins will be contributing to this site and building a community where many people can remember their loved ones. And so, this will be in part an e-memorial to those gone before us, but it will also be a health resource for everyone who passes this way.

I don’t know who WC Sucho was, or maybe it was W. Csuecho but I hope that whoever it was, he/she appreciates what I’ve done with the expired domain!

Thinking Of others

These days we seem to find little time for the troubles of others. This is quite well said by a poem I found on my web travesl. I hope the poet (I don’t know him) will forgive me for using his work, but full credit is hereby given to a Keith Rowley on the site Authorsden for the following work which made me cry:

It’s called Broken Soul

A broken woman with a broken heart
Loads up her life on a broken cart
Reaching for the love of a long lost day
For the laughter of children the dark took away

A flash of bright memory of candles and gold
Of Bright smiling faces in days bright and cold
Of the strength and the warmth that kept cold at bay
In the days of her beauty that the dark took away

Ashamed deep inside of what she’s become
Of the marks on her arms and the stench of cheap rum
She thinks of the love of her parents that day
When the dark came inside and took them away

There now she sits in the door of a shop
The cart’s loaded up but she has to stop
She knows she must go on into the day
Looking for hope that the dark took away

She shivers, draws tight the thin fabric she wears
And cries as the scruffy old blouse rips and tears
Remembering wardrobes of furs smooth and grey
In her grand house that the dark took away

Old is her face but see when she smiles
The beauty of youth still shines through her eyes
Recalling the days when men queued for a day
For a glimpse of the love-light the dark took away

The snow swirls around her and she blends with the chill
A desperate old woman with a cart on a hill
Will no one please love her, take her in for a day
Or are we the darkness that throws her away

Those verses speak volumes to me about today’s world as I hope they do to you.
May God Bless You All.

Terry Thomas

Health For All