Sunday 25 January 2009

oopsie poopsie

ART IN ATLANTA (and its blogs)
Art scenes have always been depicted as having some level of superficiality or vapidness. It is almost necessary,given that art often has to command some sort of abstract respect. Atlanta's art scene is rotten. If it isn't hipster drinkin' kids fresh out of school,its ancient rich stuffy pretension, churning out empty shit in an empty environment. They reek of building their presenttion on an association with other older models,rendering the entire affair useless from the word go.
The frustrating thing i find regarding Atlanta's art scene is a recurring element. I sometimes want to step back and doubt myself, feeling that it is just me. But then i realize that while perhaps it is just me, this is very much fine. The other problem is that it simply is not me. Our idea of presentation of art has to do not only with the art itself, but how many incorporated into the art scene tend to bring themselves to it in the first place.
I will not deny that much of what i respond to now is alluding to many of the blogs one can access from this blog.The beautyof this blog you are reading now is that it is an open door and is defined by all who participate. It presents opportunity.
The sad thing for many of the blogs i see is,all of them are well intended. The other sad thing is, they are working with what they find themselves exposed to. For instance, this bike show at Radial. Complete bullshit. They're fucking bikes,kids. Lets write for six days about it when we cant even present a coherent thought over conceptual work that might actually expect you to think. Let's stroll through Castleberry Hill and struggle desperately to look past the club music glitzification of an already rotting idea. Even Diane Haus got the fuck out of dodge. She saw the writing on the wall.
I find myself ranting and dissolving into hostile words because, for as long a i have been aware, no one has the will to stand up and say anything to what is,on the face of it, good intentions. These bike shows and the likes may very well be designed with good utilitarian design. perhaps all the proceeds go to some sort of charity. Big fucking deal. Accessible names become the thing on the surface many attach to and seek to write about or talk about, actually striving to perpetuate some sort of respect. Which is fine, but the knowledge prior to that is as deep a your stupid trendy thriftstore clothes and your need for a stiff drink. The lady renting her gallery with the big shiney ring, sure shes actually into the arts so thats good, but good lord. One has to ask "why"? It's so very tough when you can tell they mean well, but they simply lack the vision or substance. Empty superficial ideas germinate between these people like wildfire,and have been what maintains control of the overall feel of this city for decades now. Even if good art is on their wall, it can't be seen because of a very feeling in the air.
I recently had a few copies of "Low Life" put in my hands, an Atlanta publication from the mid 80's and early nineties. Compare this to the stiff stale thing that the recent publication FALSE magazine presents and you see what i am saying. FALSE has good intentions and shows potential. Only the first and opening article in their first publication presents the wisest attempt at coherent ideas. I simply find the entire feel and approach to presentation stiff and dull and safe. I enjoy the truth of the rough and tumble aspect to things. I think of Eyedrum. i think of my most recent experience at Black Castl's freedum fest. I will even go so far as to say that the intention behind APG (the atlanta poets group)-which i now belong to i will admit, share this intent. It's existence breathes. It exudes it.And shamelessly exludes what does not belong at whatever cost.
I believe the rough and tumble cannot be denied. It starts with honest folks sharing amongst themselves. Curiously,I believe this is how Piedmont park arts festival originally started.A small group of people. Another example of something that,once it spread wide and invited in its atlanta elements,it found itself saturated by what it hoped to effect or grow with, but in reality was consumed by it. Nowadays, its like buying a distressed Ramones t-shirt from Target. People aping this idea,strolling into the scene,writing in a manner that obliviously perpetuates shit. Getting together with fellow classmates, brainwashed about a way to spread themselves and work the network. A network that doesnt even exist anyways!
Sure there's always been the fake and there's always been shit. There's always been opinions. What i find myself up against is the will to remember identity. I myself vascillate,in attempts to understand new perspectives. But what i am developing is the will to remember what i SENSE AND TRUST AND BELIEVE IS GOOD. To maintain a clearly defined individual center. Just like anyone else. Only clearly have the will to stand alone and screamit ,if that is what it takes. And then to remember the finesse of the overall goal. To battle the monsters and not become one. To remeber the goal and hold onto that. its about everyones art,atlanta's art, and it cannot help but define my art.
The desire to make that risky observation, often from a source that realizes it only from the gut,one that often does it only from within a limited ability to spread this vision because of resources. I find it further fascinating when collectives who unwittingly go into "battle" with the existing commerical/business art structures,finding themselves working hard (for free) beside larger big funding bullshit,still tend to cower and sugar coat their truths. or even compromise their truths. Or simply cow-tow,because they dont want to bite the hand that feeds. Whats the point? You cut off your nose. Go take your art pictures and post youir reviews on your blogs. Just like your art teacher taught you. It can be compared to how many feel oil corporations keep any other source of energy option from ever taking root.
I sense rot in Art Papers. In the AJC and its formulaic empty rote writing. Empty gestures. I sense rot from the overall mood i get from Creative Loafing. All of these publication do their best,but the very soil they find themselves in has no choice but to stop and turn on itself and confess.Adreess itself and its own context,instead of trying to hide it,or deny it. they've written and written about many great art happenings, but something about their very source is off. It needs to gut itself.
it needs to have no choice but accept they need to confess.This will only happen if individuals begin to coalesce under this basic realization,not with words and writng alone,but with physical action. Do not give them your art to sale.
Bring validity to it.

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