Showing posts with label kitsch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kitsch. Show all posts

Friday, January 8, 2016

Courtyard, Trindade; kitsch

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Courtyard, Trindade, oil on card, 14 x 17 cm -  -unavailable





A picture in a "Japanese" vernacular, via French Intimism. 

The courtyards visible from my flat have enormous potential as subjects: art as the revealing of secrets, the hidden made known. Art of this sort is the opposite of propaganda and kitsch, which deals in falsehoods. 

  Next time I will try to capture the lady responsible for the washing, though she only ever appears fleetingly to hang or remove her laundry.




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Thursday, January 13, 2011

A trip to the mountains, part 3; solitude and painting

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Chalets and a distant mountain, oil on card, 9.5 x 14 cm

Five Araucaria trees, oil on card, 14 x 9.6 cm  available




Here is a final selection from my little trip to the interior of Santa Catarina, which I spent largely alone and painiting.

The first is very "picture postcard": beautiful places always carry the risk to landscape artists of bringing a certain kitschy obviousness to the work they do there. I cannot find a way round this: for me part of the pleasure of being a landscapist is the delight of being in a beautiful place: it gives me an excuse to go there (I believe fishermen and birdwatchers say the same thing). The only thing I can do is to try to offer a balance by also painting places which are without immediate beauty, such as industrial and suburban sites.

Landscape painting also lends a focus to solitude. And I confess I have the misanthropic tendencies common to painters and it hardly pains me to escape the herd*. Many people do not like being alone, it makes them anxious. But I think for this very reason, that it's important to be alone at times so as not to become enslaved to a social network.

I also feel, when I am alone in nature, that sense of rhapsody so forcefully conveyed in Knut Hamsun's glorious novels, especially Pan and Mysteries. Alongside rhapsody though, comes melancholy, and yearning: emotions relating somehow to an increased awareness of ones connextion with the life and death cycles of nature.

*I've never had the least sympathy with Christianity's generalised love of humanity: how can one when there there are simply too many people.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Urubici: female taste; architecture; 10a Festa Nacional das Hortaliças; Gauchos


Urubici is essentially a single long, straight road with a grand church (see yesterday) at one end and not much at the other and forested mountains all around. It is a cold place for Brazil, and usually gets a tiny bit of snow every year. The population is a mixture of Portuguese, German and Latvian descent, mainly.

We stayed at the Urubici Park Hotel: as before this was enjoyable though they seem to have difficultiues answering emails regarding reservations.

The hotel features a good deal of handicraft work. Indeed, horror vacui seems to have overcome the owner, and every space in the hotel was filled with a hand made affirmation of nature's goodness- though sometimes God gets an affirmation too. I do not know quite why all this horrifies me so.

The Lord is my shepherd: mural on the second floor opposite the stairs.




The manager is a woman: female taste has this peculiarity: this insistant cheefulness, this need for surface decoration. The coming of Easter has obviously excited the manager's creativity, and lent her the opportunity to transform the hotel so it resembles a giant kindergarten.



Throughout Brazil, women - usually those whose children are grown - meet to make such items, which invariably involve representations of flowers and small animals and pieces of cloth. The items are sold in specialist handicraft shops, or exchanged as gifts. I believe such behaviour is not uncommon among the female sex in other countries too.

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The town of Urubici features, most interestingly, a small number of attractive Art Deco villas. As I associate this style with seaside towns and cinemas, it seems slightly odd to me in this rustic setting. They are painted in the same ice-cream colours of their cousins in Miami and Southend on Sea. And then there is the main church itself, which I featured here yesterday, which while not strictly Art Deco in my book, is has some of the colourful geometricity associated with the style.











Classic Deco "Sun Motif" as stained glass window.

Such art deco styled buildings can be found also in Florianopolis. I wonder if they are all the product of the same architecture studio?

Some of these buldings are covered in tiles, Portuguese style:



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This being Brazil, there is no shortage of religious venues. There has been a veritable wave of new evangelical churches flooding Brazil (Mormons, in pairs like policemen, can be seen patrolling Florianopolis dressed in their trademark black suits despite the heat. I befriended a pair and tried to corrupt them with alchohol: they befriended me and tried to corrupt me with religion: neither side won). This represents disillusion with Catholicism, and a desire for North American cultural values- these new churches are not shy to link material and spiritual success and the style of their pastors is "charismatic".

Saturday night is a slow night, even in Brazillian evangelical churches. Note the tie: evangelical pastors dress like businessmen.






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Other local features are some rock carvings (representing quite what is anyone's guess), a trout farm, and various waterfalls.




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The Festa Nacional das Hortaliças is a celebration of vegetables:

A particularly impressive display.

There was also, perhaps more excitingly, a rodeo, rock bands and various tents selling country things and a funfair. The rodeo brought a host of Gauchos: rodeo isn't really a Catarinese thing: it's really part of the culture of Rio Grande do Sul. They have a traditional costume of scarves, baggy trousers, hats and knives worn at the belt.








Gaucho culture is much more macho than the culture of Coastal Santa Catarina, which is notable for its gentleness. The police issued some warnings about the knives, and I felt something rough and confrontational in the air.

Two Gaucho ladies.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Bad art, "Daily Painters", discussion.

What precisely is wrong with these artists' works? They call themselves “daily painters”, and they produce, like me, a work of art most days. http: //www.dailypainters.com/

There are the usual suspects- some porn-kitsch, a clown (not weeping!), sunny fruit, pets, sunsets.

The world of daily painting has some connection both with the "traditional" gallery art of 19th century genres (still life, nudes, moody portraits) and links to the family photo album, with paintings (copied mainly from snaps, I suspect) of people on holiday. http://www.dailypainters.com/index.php?date=2010-01-19

The notion of artistic purpose shown is very conservative and in both groups of pictures (traditional / holiday snap) a stern editing of reality is taking place serving to exclude any possible offence or unpleasantness (ironical that the net affect of this censorship is actually the opposite intended- revulsion!). They also sometimes have a delightful quality of edging very close to being reasonably good art, then turning away into the abyss of Readers Digest coyness. This is comical but ultimately dispiriting: looking at Daily Painters is a bad thing to do for your mental health because it's an imaginatively reductive experience.

As regards drawing and technical qualities Daily Painters are often awkward- but then so is the work of many wonderful painters. Lack of technincal ability does hamper the the Daily Painters, however: they are camera-dependent in ways that good figuarive artists are not: there are few imaginative flights and little inventiveness when it comes to using the medium of paint itself. Their world is pedestrian.

Their more serious failing usually is "spiritual". That is, there is a lack of examination as to the nature of reality- they present too sunny a vision of life, they are sentimental. An imposition is taking place, they feel "dishonest". But these are not self-consciously subjective pieces either: they reek of propaganda, a banal propaganda for the beauty of places, people or dogs(!). Yet some might argue that they are not sentimental enough, they lack the verve of a Landseer stag.

They do not succeed as classicizing, idealising art in the tradition of say, David, or Piero della Francesca. Quite why this is is hard to say, but I'd suggest that the reason lies beneath the painting, in the individual artist's lack of awareness of the falseness, or banality of their own world view. The artists lack either the skill to propagandise successfully, or the self-consciousness that might lead to greater ambition.

Is it mistaken to discuss art in terms of "honesty"? All art is artifice, surely? That makes sense, but there has to be a correspondence between the art work and something inside us or the world for it to have meaning. A painting of a smiling Stalin kissing a small girl is unpleasant because it offends our sense of the truth, not necessarily because it need be badly made.

I don’t have anything expressly against Obama (indeed, given the nature of his work, he seems about as nice as these people can be) but such images as these make me cringe http://www.dailypainters.com/paintings?search=obama