Sticky Sticky Sticky

Anyone who hasn’t spent the best part of the last decade on hiatus will probably already be familiar with the Stuckists. As for me, well, I’ve only come upon them lately:  

http://www.stuckism.com/  

That’s right. The stuckists are the concept art haters, called ‘Stuckists’ because Tracey Emin, the notable British conceptual artist famous for exhibiting her unmade bed in the Tate Gallery, accused one of the leading proponents of the movement, Billy Childish, of being “stuck, stuck, stuck”.  I have a soft spot in my heart for these honorable people. Really I do, even though I suppose my own practice – thriving as it does on the concept of hiatus – might be considered on the threshold at least of the concept art movement, which they despise, it’s their reason d’etre, you can read their manifesto here.  

So, I’ve been reading what art critics and art journalists have to say about this hot topic, and it makes me curious, what do everyday, knock about artists have to say about this particular can of worms? Are you tempted to sign up? Or do you agree with Jonathan Jones, that “Stuckists are the enemies of art”?  

If you ask me, it’s rather a shame that the people to pit themselves against the concept artists, and against the establishment that rewards and encourages the concept art movement, should be so darn bad at the type of art they supposedly champion. I mean, really:  

A Man That Thinks He Can Fly

Aren’t there any good artists out there who can help these guys out? To be fair, I do quite like some of the art coming out of this movement. It has that quirky, naive sort of directness that bypasses the grey matter if you know what I mean. It seems to me the cartoonesque style they exhibit draws self-consciously on a more or less creditable tradition of primitivism and outsider art, but this does smack suspiciously of irony to me, so I’m not sure if they’re contradicting themselves or not. It also raises the question, if they’re not appealing to beauty or brains, what exactly are they appealing to? Heart? Angry hearts? Really starved angry hearts?  

As for their theoretical position, I think they have some stand up arguments - anyone can see their passionate, punkesque plea for a new definition of art has reason in it, even if it’s not quite enough reason to satisfy the highbrow white cube elite. But they’re not so silly that the Art world can dismiss them out of hand, which is probably how they’ve gained momentum with the public, quality of art notwithstanding. You can see a really, really horribly grainy reproduction of an Oxford Union debate featuring Matthew Collings on the subject here. I’ll be reviewing their manifesto shortly, as part of my Cumulo Manifesto project.  

It’s too much toast for one post – I’ll be sticking with the Stuckists for a little while, I think, so stay tuned for future posts.  

So, dear flailing artists – what’s your honest opinion? Do you have some constructive criticism to offer?

We are for the wonderful clouds

 I just can’t believe how serendipity has played out here, in providing me with such a fitting subject for my first manifesto review - the Manifesto of the Cloud Appreciation Society. I do love clouds myself, so I suppose my review cannot hope to be even vaguely impartial, but neither vaguery nor impartiality has a place in the unique mode of rhetorical expression that is the manifesto, so I hardly think their lack can be felt much in the review (allowing of course for the ultimate irony: a manifesto declaring in favour of impartiality). Taking a vaguely parodical tone, the Cloud Appreciation Society’s manifesto manages to be both vague and partial, without being blatant about either. But then, we would hardly expect the cloud loving folk of the Cloud Appreciation Society to be blatant about anything, would we.

So here goes.

The manifesto is a tight one, in point form – six points to be exact, or six plumes if you like, since clouds aren’t often pointy creatures. These are separated by cute, whimsical cloud dingbats – making an important visual statement I think – and range from pledges to defend clouds, to phrases in recognition of their beauty, to deliberations on the advantages they offer in practical terms to those who watch them (saving on psychoanalysis bills). It is a rather poetic manifesto, without being weighted down with too much high falutin’ language, while its organisation of content is random enough to evoke the sensation of cloud watching itself. Its tone builds beautifully, starting with tongue in cheek solemnity, and ending with a rousing exhortation, to “look up” and live with one’s “head in the clouds”.

It does a nice job of identifying the enemy – specifically, the tendency to exhibit “blue-sky thinking”, but overall it has a tone of reparation, and is predominantly peaceful in approach – one might, if one happened to be having a ‘blue sky’ sort of moment, expect to be gently encouraged to reflect rather on the benefits of clouds, not mocked or harassed loudly into line.   So, I would say, a highly successful, multi layered manifesto. Light, contemplative, far reaching without over reaching, and clearly defined, like a cumulo nimbus.

Indefinite beginnings

Here is where the blog begins. The hiatus, however, began a long time ago. I was once a practicing artist - I painted, I sketched, I went to art school. I exhibited - tentatively. Then I opted out. Like so many artists before me, I took indefinite hiatus from my practice. This doesn’t mean I’ve pursued something else, because I haven’t. I’m an artist to the core, and when I come out of hiatus, it will be with renewed determination, and hopefully, purpose.

There’s something of an art to this hiatus business, as it turns out, and the aim of this blog is to document mine, whilst exploring the theme of hiatus in a general, more universal sense.

Why? Well, first of all, because making hiatus doesn’t mean giving up, it just means doing something else for a while - and for me, incurable recluse that I am, it’s writing. I’ve always written, nearly as much as I’ve drawn. When art became impossible, writing was my fall back. Both artforms transport, both construct pictures, both allow for bizarre eccentricities of character (like cash register phobia, and the compulsion to edit). If I were really smart, I would have played chess of course. Indefinitely.

The other reason is, I love art. I love thinking about art, writing about art, and just coexisting with it. I also love making it, but for me that one’s on the backburner, for now. I’m confident I’m not alone, if not in my hiatus, at least in my doubt. I’m also confident there’s something to this hiatus business, and I intend to find out what it is. I’ll be looking back at the history of art, the lives of artists living and dead, the theories that define art now and those that seek to define the future. Who knows? It might turn up something interesting. It might even, arguably, be art.

Okay, probably not.