..:. Cracking My Vainpot .:..

It's so rare for street art to become part of history in its making. But Fairey's timing and essence were just perfect for the 2008 election.

...said who...

Blowjob/Andy Warhol/1963

I swear, when I first read about this Frida, I thought we were meant to be the same person, like some pre- & re-incarnation, whatever that means.

Poor Frida, I can identify with quite a few different aspect of her life, like

being childless,
torn between two cultures: Mexican vs colonial-European,
disillusioned & resentful towards the church,
loves tackling taboo subjects (who else would draw loving pictures of sperms & dead fetus?),
a vainpot: she's a self portrait factory!
American-skeptic,
and at last but not least, she's not straight.

If Van Gogh and Damien Hurst sit at the 2 ends of some artistic talent scale, then somewhere in the middle, you'll find Frida. She's no where nearly as insane as the former, but a lot more sincere than the latter in her shock tactic.

Young Frida only started painting when a bus accident left her confined to the hospital bed. If it was her "untrained" style that made her different, then it was the contents, the choices of her painted subjects that showcased her wit.

Imagine putting a toilet seat on an Ionic column, or dollar signs on the stained glasses of church windows. Parodies of Western obessions, Kahlo style.

The most powerful work I saw that day, was portrait of her having a miscarriage, blood and all, complete with a traditional Roman Catholic Church "Thank you, Virgin Mary" scroll across the bottom.

However, one should know how far talent stretches. When she tried to come up with an all important "who's who" picture of the whole universe with Moses sitting in the middle, and sea shells at the bottom "representing" evolution, the result was rather a messy pile of pointless shite.

Anyway. She has done well, for a woman with mustache :)

In this age of multimedia, people are spoilt with choice for their artistic expression, be it film, photography, digital, installation or performance. Artists no longer need to/know how to draw.

In fact, modern art has jumped so far out of the wooden frame that we sometimes cannot tell what is art anymore.

When the credit of conceptual art hangs entirely on its "brilliant idea" with absolutely no involvement of any noticeable craftmanship skills, my enthusiasm as well as sympathy & patience towards it rapidly deflat, because very often there's nothing left to admire after the initial grandiose moment of WOW, however clever it was.

A friend of mine just got a PhD in Art History recently. She concluded that "The question isn't what art is, but when it becomes art."

But to me, a dead cow sliced open into two halves was just as dead as my burger. A crumbled up piece of paper in the museum looks like those you find in the bin. That famous unmade bed is no different to the not-so-famous ones belong to you and me.

Then I realised, these Sensationites are really geniuses- in the marketing department! It takes a lot of persuasion to sell a scaled-up plastic toy for 2 million pounds you know.

So what can we do? Well, let's all send our junk to Tate and cash in!

(image lifted from cartoonstock.com)

When I was small, the only subject I failed was Art. Like all good HK parents, mine pushed me into a local gallery every Saturday for 2h to learn to draw circles.

After some coaching, I could make some good pencil sketches but was never great at CREATING anything life-like out of the thin air.

So I thought there's no "practice makes perfect" in art. You are either gifted or not. Since I'm not, I always have respect (and fantasy) for people who are. Perhaps that is why I like Van Gogh so much.

1st time I saw "the" Sunflower in the National Gallery 10yr ago, I thought Wow, this is one of the most famous paintings in the world, and it's so er yellow!

2nd time I saw it, I noticed all the brilliant and varied brush strokes, how the thickness of the paint makes the flowers look even more real.

That this is skill.
This is exactly why you HAVE to see things in museums cos all these details are lost in prints/copies.
This is real art, unlike the 2 thousand identical copies of waterlily pond that Monet mass reproduced for decorative/sale purposes.
This is the greatest painting!

Yesterday seeing it for the 3rd time, I realised that the vast is flat, there's no shadow! Why don't they mention anymore that the background's originally pink? Most upsettingly, he painted it as his sitting room DECORATION to welcome his frenchy painter friend. I can't even say "the" sunflower since... there're THREE others somewhere round the world. Shit.

Well I don't care. He's still the best.

Walked past Trafalgar Square the other day. The pigeon/tourist paradise. From afar, something on the 4th plinth caught my eyes. I've seen lots of different sculptures in rotation there in the past, such as black jesus, the glassy inverted column base, etc.

Only this time round, I couldn't figure out what it is. From the side, it looked like a cooked chicken sitting upright with a human head stuck on top.

Did a search when I got home. Jez. It was "'Alison Lapper Pregnant' by Marc Quinn, depicting disabled artist Alison naked and pregnant. Tiny drumstick limbs with a round body.

I've never seen a contorted human body so interesting but so revolting at the same time, and yet, that's just a sculpture. Imagine what it's like to be her. Disability and motherhood? How brave. I wouldn't say controversial, cos well it's not. Long gone are the 60s afterall.

Flying in the face of the current muscle fascist gym toning protein shaking creatine supplementing slim-fasting siliconing gelatining botoxing body perfect obsession, it's like her saying,

"Look, I don't fit the norm, but I still live and love."

If she can do it, I can too.

(With the exception of getting pregant, of course).