- Učlanjen(a)
- 26.05.2006
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Ne , njegov najveci problem je bio njegova ludost , krunisna odsecanjem uva, i precenjene zvrljotine , kojima su cenu podigli tadasnja aristokratija (khm khm... stoka bez ukusa) , sa vise para nego pameti, koja nije imala drugih (nisu ni postojali) fetisha sem skupljanja precenjenih zvrljotina.
To me podseti...
http://insomnia.ac/commentary/on_the_genealogy_of_art_games
This double movement, then, which consists partly in rediscovering antique art, and partly in embracing contemporary popular artforms, is how healthy people react to the phenomenon of "modern art" (i.e. to the complete and utter dissolution of artistic convention in every sphere and the reduction of everything to a garbage soup). But not everyone reacts like this — not everyone, that is to say, is healthy. More specifically, two species of subhuman, the hipster (in my terminology, the "artfag") and the absurdly rich, react in a very different manner, a manner which is worth investigating. Briefly, then, the hipsters are ready to worship as art any object whatsoever, however ugly and worthless, provided it belongs neither to antique art (which they regard as outmoded) nor to popular art (which is, well, popular), whilst the rich make no such distinctions: they'll simply buy the most expensive artworks they can afford, meaning either antique ones or modern (i.e., once more excluding contemporary popular works which, due to their being produced in great numbers, never manage to reach the astronomical prices that are required to get the rich interested in them — prices which only the unique, unreproducible artworks can ever hope to achieve). So even though an illustration by someone like, say, a Brom or a Terada may require immeasurably more skill to create and be immensely more beautiful (in a word, more "artful") than some abstract painting abortion that's "worth" millions, the hipsters will stay away from it because it's popular and the rich because it's cheap. In short, so-called "modern art" is sustained exclusively by the interest of the hipsters and the absurdly rich, while no one else really gives a fuck about it. — And now comes the million-dollar question: What do these people get out of this absurd behavior? For they can't be going to all this trouble for nothing — there's got to be something in it for them. And what's in it for them is social status — they find in this so-called "modern art" a means for advancement in what I call "the slave game" — the game for social distinction. To take each case separately, the hipsters — being generally stupid, lazy, utterly talentless, with no skills whatsoever, usually even extremely ugly — need some sort of trick, some sort of cunning, subterranean stratagem in order to compete with the strong, the intelligent, the beautiful and the talented, and they find this in affecting an air of "higher intellectuality" — in attempting, that is to say, to appear as if they stood on a higher plane compared to everyone else at least in one respect: in the intellectual-artistic sphere — a sphere in which they have observed that uneducated people (i.e. those who lack a solid philosophical background) are extremely easy to dupe. The rich, on the other hand, have the exact opposite problem: they are already sitting at or very near the heights of social status, and are therefore in need of some way of surpassing their peers, of distinguishing themselves even further — some new set of rules, to put it in our language, which will allow them to continue playing the game between them. Their fundamental problem is that, since bank account balances cannot be exhibited, they lack a high-score board to compare their progress between them. Up to a certain point non-artistic acquisitions such as mansions, jets and private islands will do the job — but only up to a point, because the exchange-values (i.e. the price-tags) of all these things is intimately connected with their use-values, and hence are not free to skyrocket out of all proportion. What they therefore need is utterly repulsive, useless knick-knacks that no one could possibly want (i.e. with zero use-value, so that there's no chance of them ever becoming popular), and which they can therefore arbitrarily invest with whatever exchange-value they want as an excuse to throw entire fortunes at them — and to be seen doing so. — In both cases, then, art no longer serves to give pleasure in itself, but is instead used as a chip in the slaves' game of social distinction, as a means to an increase of social status — and it is this increase which provides the pleasure, and for the sake of which the artfags and the rich will stop at nothing to appear to be worshipping little preposterous, repulsive, useless knick-knacks. So we see that even in this case, the most extreme case of ugliness in art (for in the entire history of art nothing has ever been created even remotely as ugly as modern art — Baudrillard: "thus painting currently cultivates, if not ugliness exactly... then the uglier-than-ugly (the "bad", the "worse", "kitsch"), an ugliness raised to the second power") — even in this case the artworks (i.e. the knick-knacks) still manage to give pleasure, but indirectly — not through the effect they have on their owner, but due to their effect on everyone else — on everyone but the owner! A fact which explains why these "artworks" no longer need to be beautiful — quite the opposite in fact, they must necessarily be ugly, otherwise they'd end up becoming popular and would no longer be suitable to serve as the ultimate chips in the slave game. — What is most remarkable about this whole business, and can be discerned only now, once it has been properly analyzed, is how the artfags, who reside at the bottom of the slave game, and the absurdly rich, who stand at the top, end up turning to the same means in their struggle to raise themselves higher, and in a sense collaborate, with the artfags creating repulsive trinkets and the rich buying them up, thus meeting each other at the point of inversion — where the game comes full circle, and reveals itself for what it is.
But there's a fundamental difference between the circumstances of the diehard artfags and those of their mutations, this being that the latter have no rich suckers to as it were "ennoble" their trash with millions. The "art paint splotches" and "art ready-mades", the "art urinals" and "art feces", etc. will always find some shmuck with too much money who's desperate for attention, but a movie costs 10 bucks at the box office and 20 on DVD, and everyone can afford that. So the mutated artfags do not really complete the circle (the grand circle of the pseudo-art game that we examined earlier on), because they have no rich suckers to buy up their ugly and boring shit and close it. So what they're forced to do instead is complete the circle BETWEEN them, producing, as it were, a self-sufficient mini-circle (by artfags for artfags), in a kind of short-circuiting of the whole process which ends up almost completely isolating itself from the rest of the social body, with the film artfags watching the "art films" of the other film artfags, the game artfags playing the "art games" of the other game artfags, etc. etc., in the manner of a Friday night "poetry slam" where the audience consists entirely of people who are only absent-mindedly listening (or plain simply pretending to listen) while REALLY being there because they are waiting for their turn to stand up and recite their own "art poem" (all of it "free verse", of course, or, on the rare occasions when there's an actual metric involved, on the level of complexity and aesthetic value of a teenager's love poem), all this being an extensively documented pattern of behavior known in medical terminology as the circlejerk. Thus the artfag movement of each advanced art ends up more or less sealing itself inside its very own little circlejerk; moreover every further mutated circlejerk, since it involves an even more technological, widely-disseminated and hence popular artform, leads to diminishing status (and also, of course, diminishing money; all other artfags make peanuts compared to diehard artfags, with the currently No. 1 wealthiest artfag in the world being the British superfag Damien Hirst), so that in the hierarchy of artfags the mutations always find themselves placed a great deal lower than their ancestors, with painting artfags being held in more esteem than photography artfags, which are held in more esteem than film artfags, which in their turn are held in more esteem than videogame artfags — which scrape the very bottom of the barrel of mutated artfag scum (a fact which also explains why they smell so bad).
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