And I cannot stress this enough: bury their bones in an unmarked ditch.
Those are original Warhol boxes. Two Brillos, a Motts and a Campbells tomato soup. Multiple millions worth of original art, set on the floor by the front door.
Theres a regular customer whom i do plumbing work for, for the last 3 or 4 years. These belong to her. She also has Cherub Riding a Stag, and a couple other Warhols that i cannot identify, along with other originals by other artists that i also cannot identify. I have to go back to her house this coming Monday, i might get photos of the rest of her art, just so i can figure out what it is.
Even though i dont have an artistic bone in my entire body, i can appreciate art. I have negative feelings on private art like this that im too dumb to elucidate on.
eat the fucking rich. they are good for nothing.
I completely agree with you. I got restless in such art and literature courses (I had quite a few) and deep down, I wanted to say “all right, fine. It’s vague and ambiguous. Now what?”
That is the point it’s ambiguity and pointlessness all the way down. It’s not like the Frankfurt school thought this was a good condition to be under either. The now what hasn’t changed cause we haven’t done that yet. Post modernism is a shitty name and that I do blame on the cia cause it’s too convenient and doesn’t sound great in French. Post modernism is the inherently temporary place we occupy right now, and that’s worth having a good look at, but it’s located at the end of the rubber band that is real material modernism. Post modern should just be called late capital, it’s more accurate.
I’d like to eventually leave that pit and see what else is possible but the pit instead of sitting in the pit or digging the pit deeper while saying “pit, pit, the pit is the point.” Yes, the pit is the point. Sometimes I’d like to not be in the pit and see what else is out there without it being dismissed as “just a painting” or “poems that rhyme aren’t serious poetry.”
Even the people in this thread that you’ve dunked on for seeing Warhol’s work on a subjective face-value level (and seeing it as, understandably, bleak and ugly) are saying they want to get off of Mr. Bones’ Wild Ride, so to speak. A half century (more than a century to be exact if you go back to the roots of the art movement) of saying “gotcha, expectations subverted” is ossifying more and more and maybe something new and different will actually seize the next century’s art experience. I can only hope, because reflecting the bleakness of the present status quo, to me, is as ponderous and tiresome as the present status quo itself.
Show me art you like right now
Between this and your above post, I think you’re getting far too hostile toward not only me but also people in this thread that subjectively don’t appreciate (or even see) what you think is so important that you’re apparently looking down on them for not “getting it.”
There isn’t much good that can come of this exchange at this point.
Post art that you like right now
I’m not interested in your gotcha game, be it “SEE? SEE? THIS IS A WARHOL INFLUENCE” or “HAH! LOOK AT HOW LOWBROW AND LOWLY YOUR TASTE IS.”
If I wanted more of that I’d sign up for some postgrad humanities courses with the same professors that did that the first time around.
You’re absolutely insufferable
You’re so arrogant and hostile to the unwashed masses in this thread, myself included, that I’m truly getting vivid memories of some of those college courses again.
Yes, I liked poetry that rhymed. I even liked genre art, such as Stephen Gammel’s charcoal pencil drawings of children’s ghost stories. It’s inferior to your superior (yet totally punk and subversive) sensibilities, probably.
Also, have you ever in your whole history of posting here ever given up on an argument?