I just watched the documentary “Art and Craft.” There was more than one person who suggested that, given his talents, Mark Landis should paint original works, and sign them with his own name. Which sort of misses the point.
What he does, and why he’s become famous, is copy works by famous painters. Or copy their style, at least. And then pass off the works to museums and galleries as originals. One key point though, is that he doesn’t try to sell the works, and therefore is not committing any crimes.
He may know that what he does is forgery, but he calls it “philanthropy.” For Landis, it is the act – the entire act, of painting and presenting a work, complete with paper and wood and frames and canvases all made to look age-appropriate, and then presenting it to a gallery as authentic – that is important.
Yes, his work is undeniably good. But if he had toiled for these same years producing originals, would he be a famous painter? Probably not. As someone in the film said, his schtick is as much performance art as it is painting. And what a performance.
Chairs and nature, in a work produced by an artist whose “intention is to visualize elements of ordinary view and questions how we connect with the beautiful world.” What’s not to like?
The story is here.
The famous historian of type Robert Bringhurst has just published a book about the humble Palatino typeface. In an interview with Steven Heller, a discussion of how this particular typeface, and its creator Herman Zapf, rates its own volume leads to some provocative ideas on how art can be viewed as a part of natural history:
“I’m not a big fan of the colonial-industrial mindset: the view that human beings are masters of the universe, children of God and pretty much unrelated and unbeholden to anything else. Humans are animals, and we are, like all animals, good at some things, lousy at others. We can run, for instance, but not as well as deer, and we can swim, but not as well as trout. We can climb trees, but not as well as monkeys. Compared with most other creatures, however, we can talk and draw pretty good.
In fact, making art appears to be part of our nature. Humans do it wherever you find them. If art is a natural activity, then the history of art is really and truly a branch of natural history. Maybe this is easier for people to think about if we focus first on calligraphy and typography rather than representational art.”
Read the interview here.
What do you see when you look at a work of art? How closely do you look? Are there salient details? Is it important to look at every little thing?
If you are a police officer, and you are studying with Amy Herman, you’d better take a good look. Herman, an expert in visual perception, uses artwork to train law enforcement officers as well as medical students, business executives, and others how to be better observers. Noticing the details of a painting can easily translate to noticing something at a crime scene, or a medical examination.
“I’ve had people say, ‘I hate art,’ and I say, ‘That’s not relevant,’” she said. “This is not a class about Pollock versus Picasso. I’m not teaching you about art today; I’m using art as a new set of data, to help you clear the slate and use the skills you use on the job. My goal when you walk out the door is that you’re thinking differently about the job.”
Take a look: Off the Beat and Into a Museum: Art Helps Police Officers Learn to Look
“[ ] seeing art isn’t just a luxury, a social outing or fodder for your next Instagram upload. It’s medicine for the eyes, the mind, the heart and possibly even the body.”
The idea that experiencing art can promote physical – not just mental or emotional – health is intriguing. But for best results, look at art that inspires wonder and amazement.
Read about it here.
I like Julian Barnes. I like art. So a book on art by Barnes should be a good read. I’m looking forward to Keeping an Eye Open.
“Mr. Barnes writes with an easy understanding of the tension between life and art and the strange alchemy of imagination; he also conveys an appreciation of artists’ technique, as it has been learned from predecessors and developed through experimentation and serendipity. He effortlessly situates a masterwork in the context of its creator’s career, and that career within the larger arc of art history — all, with a light but authoritative hand.”
Earlier this year I came across the video blog of Nerdwriter, who expounds on… lots of stuff. And lots of that lots of stuff is art-related. Or even, sometimes, Art.
For example, see this insightful critique of Edward Hopper’s most famous work, “Nighthawks.” This is a piece of art that you probably know, but may not have thought about in this particular light, through this particular window: