…[We] found what we found in the past when we were young because we were looking for a way out – not a way in. We were looking for precedents upon which to found a revolution – submerging ourselves in the murky swamp of unfashionable objects, stretching our toes downward to find a new bottom from which we might push off. We wanted things we could steal, borrow, misappropriate or cross-pollinate. Dave Hickey Art in America January 2009
Dave Hickey lets it fly in the latest AIA. I can not recommend his article enough. If you can – go to the bookstore and read the magazine. If you have the money – buy it – if not – well get it any way you can (I am not suggesting you steal it – that’s illegal in certain states and I don’t want you going to jail – there’s always the library…) Rip it out keep it close, and throw away the rest of the crappy issue. Everything he is writing about flies in the face of the rest of that magazine’s presentations. Dave gives us the “permission” we seem to have been waiting for to rebel. Which is doubly impressive because Dave is, after all, a Castelli Man, and by that I mean he came from the 60s. His taste was formed in the post-structuralist Postmodern world. He is one of “them” and basically he is asking, almost pleading, with US to do our fucking jobs, and make the art that he loves redundant in the way that unaccepted and unacceptable strong art moves past accepted and expected fashionable art. What Dave is looking for is a black swan, a new idea, a radical change of aesthetic, and that is what we’ve been formulating, gestating and speculating.
…The pressure builds up and boom! Raphael, Caravaggio, Manet, Picasso, Pollock, Warhol and Koons did not arise; they erupted. They got it right the first time, so we spend our time between quakes adapting to the last, never imagining there will be another until we start getting bored. Then, when we feel the change coming, all we know is that the “fashionable’ will not be replaced by the “post-fashionable.” It will be obliterated by the “unfashionable,” scrounged up in some dingy suburb by some Dumpster-diving young troublemaker. With every quake, the tectonic heirarchy of past precedents is reordered, but nothing goes away.
Finally, the old guard is looking for a window rather than a mirror! Stay tuned!