Raising moral objections to art has a long and dishonorable history.
Who today sympathizes with Savonarola, the 15th-century Italian monk who convinced Botticelli at the end of his life that his paintings were sinful, or with Ernest Pinard, the 19th-century prosecutor who tried to ban Madame Bovary?
Savonarola and Pinard are disgraced names, yet some of their censorious ideas are still with us, nagging at the edges of art. “To impose upon art the single rule of public decency is not to enslave it but to honor it,” Pinard claimed.
Ah, the decency rule. Beaten back early in the 20th century, it resurfaced with new vigor during the Cultural Wars, crippling the National Endowment for the Arts and encouraging censorship across the country.
In that aftermath, art critics are loath to appear morally offended by any work of art, no matter how distasteful they find its content. What critic wants to fuel the anti-art fire?
Besides, since the advent of modernism, supporting any kind of morality hasn’t been considered art’s job.
The 19th-century notion of art for art’s sake acquired a spine in the modernist lexicon. Instead of denying the existence of any content but style, modernists claim that art is entitled to any content if the aesthetic can support it.
As W.H. Auden wrote in In Memory of W.B. Yeats (a passage he later considered too preachy and excised), poets have a right to say anything as long as their language is supple:
Time that is intolerant
Of the brave and innocent,
And indifferent in a week
To a beautiful physique,
Worships language and forgives
Everyone by whom it lives;
Pardons cowardice, conceit,
Lays its honors at their feet.
All this Roberta Smith knows well. But because she chose not to confront her underlying moral hostility to Adel Abdessemed’s work until her review’s final sentence, her piece is full of a mystifying contempt. (Review here.)
Great lead:
You can hear the wheels of the international art-stardom machine turning in Adel Abdessemed’s first big commercial gallery show in New York, but they don’t get much traction.
It puts readers on notice that she is going to take this guy down. But then she doesn’t. Why? Because the work pushes back at her.
“Like Mother, Like Son” (above) consists of three small airplanes, cut in half and extended with enormous and beautiful tubes of white felt. They’re something like stretch limos, except that they twist together, like snakes locked in a battle to the death.
Given this sculpture and her grudging admiration, how can she justify the paragraph that preceded it?
The works themselves offer a lexicon of the latest biennial fashions: a mixture of identity politics, Conceptual strategies played out in real life and visceral punch lines. An array of art mediums is used: drawing, installation, video, photography and sculptures that usually involve found or replicated objects.
She can’t justify it. “Latest biennial fashions?” That’s code for I-hate-you. He’s all about nature red in tooth and claw. She’s repelled but doesn’t say so, because (see above) art critics hesitate to review anybody’s morals. Wouldn’t it have been better if she had opened with an admission of moral qualms? Morality is an aesthetic sinkhole, but when a critic’s in one, an admission is brave and honorable.
Clarity comes at the end the review, and only about one piece. Since I don’t think the artist is justifying the morality of organized religions, Smith seems to be angry at the wrong target.
The oppression of women by organized religions is evil beyond words. Mr. Abdessemed should find a better use for his talent.
I haven’t seen this show, but isn’t that his point?
I believe Smith was commenting on the glibness of the artist’s work, not its morality.
Possibly. For me, it’s her writing that sounds uncharacteristically glib, and the reason why, as I argued, is outrage in a moral vein.
I don’t recall the kind of self-righteous motivation in Smith’s work that you impute. Is it the woman’s rights element you’re keying on?
No. It’s not self-righteous, it’s dismissive, as if she were waving away a fly. I wrote a response because the tone is highly unusual for her. She’s the gold standard of focusing on the art. Not this time, so I speculated as to why.
I know the artist’s work, and I agree with Smith that it is often glib and facile, and that he could put his talents to better use. Smith is a critic and was doing her job – being critical.
If you look at Smith’s work in general, she often saves her critical remarks for the last sentence of her reviews. This shows an intentional holding back of negative commentary. Ambivalence is fine but please clearly explain both sides of your mixed feelings and don’t save the negative statements for the very last sentence of the review. Also, it might be editorial policy that entirely negative reviews should be avoided more often than not because it offends advertisers. They happen once in a while at the NYT, but ambivalence usually replaces consistent negativity and reviews are typically positive. Instead of having the negative critical statements appear in off the cuff remarks it would be nice if the art critics could really flesh it out.
I see by looking out the window that the sun is shining. I’m sure of it. I’m also sure that NYT critics are under no obligation to please advertisers. I worked at a far less distinguished paper, and that issue never ever came up. There’s no point in being a critic if you have to worry about how advertisers will respond.