Clyfford Still vs. Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell
Clyfford Still vs. Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell: The above blend of color, caricature, and content, “Casino Monte Carlo and Hotel de Paris,” was painted by the artist known as Cove Loon, or 魏嵦毅, or B.J.W. Powell. In her second duel against abstract expressionists she has to battle, once again, with a yellow square reminiscent of the Frankenthaler in my previously blog: Helen Frankenthaler vs. Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell. What artist? Read on.
“Still makes the rest of us look academic.” – Jackson Pollock
If you think Jackson Pollock is the only overrated abstract expressionist whose blobs, scribbles, and splotches attracted gawkers willing to spend millions, think again. Enter Clyfford Still. Look at the yellow rectangle. Is it a question of sophistication? No. To the untrained eye it looks like nothing special, and to the trained eye it looks like crap.
To be prattled at by a moron is much more intolerable. Gee, Clyfford, screw off. You take yourself that seriously? Yeah, like you couldn’t have just kept on painting yellow if it weren’t for that damned frame’s edge. Are the synapses within your cerebellum and medulla not functioning? I know you’re dead, but crimeeeeeiny sakes, shut up! Your followers may claim that $$$ validate pseudo-greatness. Yes, it’s true, in November of 2011 Four of your “Clyfford Still” Paintings sold for over $114,000,000. Gadfuckingzooks! Danielle Steele sells millions of books, and while some of her fans may claim literary greatness, it don’t make ‘em right.
Clyfford Still vs. My Daughter’s Shirt: Ah hah! Perhaps you think that, in my rant, that I’ll claim the shirt on the right is more beautfiul than the Still on the left. I’m not. The Still actually has a certain aesthetic I find pleasing. Even the though shirt has more use as an article of clothing, and is almost as beautiful, if given a choice, I’d take the Still. Then I’d sell it to some rich liberal sycophant.
What to do? Though I understand why this Denver woman punched his painting, I refuse to resort to anything more than polemics. Thus, my problems are threefold, one: the proliferation of nonsensical visual art (for every Pollock, Doran, Hirst, Still, Frankenthaler etc. there are 1,000′s of aspirants). Two: those willing to spend gobs of $$$ on crap. Why? Has art’s commercial value trumped its emotional and intellectual value? Three: Artists who have more important or worthy visions garner less attention. Once again, I ask, what would you prefer to look at, “Yellow” or “Au Café de la Place”?