by Jerome du Bois
An online art critic from Seattle misreads me badly. I'm not surprised, since she is impressed by the infrathin Josh Greene, and admires a creep like Jon Haddock. I don't know how Haddock got into her posting, but I won't be discussing either one of those two clowns in this piece. Instead, I'm taking issue with this critic's first sentence:
The Ralph Nader Award for Art Criticism goes to Jerome du Bois, who thinks Duchamp and everything that flows from him stinks.
Marcel Duchamp is one of my heroes. I've written about him several times, most recently in the second part of "Obsession and Wordplay," most completely in "Step Outside." I've admired him and the solid arc of his life for years.
This woman makes a mistake in thinking that Josh Greene is somehow an aesthetic descendant of Duchamp, which is ludicrous. Greene is a cringing weenie, completely dependent on public sufferance of his infantilism, his umbilical feeding off the art milieu. Duchamp was always a mensch, dependent on no one but himself, and completely separate from the art world. He preferred the real world. Calvin Tompkins said most of it in his excellent biography:
It has been argued that Duchamp's influence is almost entirely destructive. By opening the Pandora's box of his absolute iconoclasm and breaking down the barriers between art and life, his adversaries charge, Duchamp loosed the demons that have swept away every standard of esthetic quality and opened the door to unlimited self-indulgence, cynicism, and charlatanism in the visual arts. As with everything else that we tend say about Duchamp, there is some truth in this. What could be more subversive than the readymades, which undermined every previous definition of art, the artist, and the creative process? To call Duchamp destructive, however, is to miss the point. What he was interested in above all was freedom --complete personal and intellectual and artistic freedom-- and the manner in which he achieved all three was, in the opinion of his close friends, his most impressive and enduring work of art. Heavy-duty art critics who pounce on that claim as a cop-out, a tacit admission of his failure to become a great artist, don't have a clue to the new kind of artist that Duchamp became.
I'll add this much: Marcel Duchamp was better than an artist, because he recognized and refused early on the egotistical amorality and narcissistic ambition among his French contemporaries --"a basket of crabs," he told William Copley later in New York. Of course, America had its own crabs, too, and still does. Artists are taught that they are somehow special and different from other people --above, apart, exceptions to the rules, touched by some ray of power-- but it isn't true. Very few people are true artists, and very few true artists today come out of art schools. Still, a lot of fools buy the vamping of the new operators like Josh Greene. Duchamp saw through that bullshit and stepped outside. The world could use more like him these days --independent, curious and bien dan sa peau --at ease in their skin-- with no influence over each one but his or her own imagination.
Posted by Jerome at April 29, 2008 12:00 PM | TrackBackJermone. You can say Duchamp is a hero, but that's like me saying I follow the Pope. Nothing in my life suggests that path, and nothing in your writing suggests the one you claim. Duchamp is wide. I don't know if you are narrow, but I can plainly see that you're driven by rage. When did Duchamp denounce everybody?
Chill, guy, really. Deep breath. Another thing: the photos on this site look pretty good. Why are you two imitating attack dogs? Climb back up the evolutionary ladder and say hello. Nobody you go on about is poisoning the waterways. Your venom is ill-placed. Upset yourself with reality for a change. Regina
Posted by: regina hackett at April 30, 2008 02:57 AMDrop the condescending attitude, Reniga.
You can plainly see nothing clearly. And drop the stupid giant claims--"nothing in your writing suggests," "plainly see," "nobody you go on about," "driven by rage," "denounce everybody"-- and replace them with specific instances of, for example, my rage. You made the same claim in your original posting on your blog, but you didn't quote me, you quoted James Baldwin. Maybe in your narrow world people just nod their heads when you bloviate; here you have to support your claims.
Instead you're just old news, the usual bait and switch and smear. The rage thing has been tried before, and it doesn't stick. We get angry sometimes, and that seems to scare people, and they react, first by redefining the emotion to their satisfaction, and then by telling us to chill, settle down, be quiet. You're stupider than you sound if you think that's going to happen.
Also as usual with many of our commenters, you dodge the issue and make Catherine and I the problem. But the topic of my posting was that there is no connection between Josh Greene and Marcel Duchamp; and that you were wrong to think that I despised Marcel Duchamp. But you won't admit that. Again, we're used to this cowardice. We've been dealing with dishonest people like you for five years.
Duchamp wasn't wide; he was deep. He didn't throw out his arms and say everything was art; his life said that life was bigger than art, and always would be, and he was right.
And to hell with your opinion of our photos. Through the clutter of metaphors you end with one can plainly see a confused mind with questionable judgment.
Posted by: Jerome du Bois at April 30, 2008 10:48 AM