Here it is: the end of the world.
I am standing in front of it, and it looks like shit.
It is Kasimir Malevich’s “Black Square”, it hangs at the New Tretyakov national gallery in Moscow, and it is dirty, tired, bleak, so unimpressive it is embarrassing to see.
And yet, that is the end.
This can well be seen as the point where art enters the other world zone, leaving our poor miserable world of bodies behind. This art is spiritual, declares Malevich, and I am ready to believe him, not on faith, but because at this point faith is the only thing that can carry me as a viewer. To appreciate it – I think while standing in front of the painting – I need to believe that what my mind brings me when looking at this painting, it brings thanks to the painting. (And that it’s worth the trip). Any thought, then, is a belief.
The painting is all cracked, it seems like it lived through terror, two wars and a revolution (it did).

For a while, I wonder what disturbs me in all this. I take Malevich’s painting as an ever-returning challenge. We are challenged to accept this or go beyond this. We are challenged to deal with the out-of-this-worldliness of aesthetic creation. Supreme it is.

I thought all this quite disappointing, a concept I would have rather kept as a concept, a story, rather than seeing it translated into a poor somewhat-black square. But what about the painting? Doesn’t it have anything to say? The cracks are most probably the result of the artist being in a hurry (it seems he put the black layer over the white one before the latter dried out). The strokes, we can clearly see, are uneven, quick, there is nothing uniform about this, and even the outside lines of the square are uneven (he is said to have painted it free hand, and very free it was). It is not a good square. Or, no: it is not the square we are told it is. It is a square that tells the history of its creation, the story of the tension, the energy, the impatience. It is a clear window into something that happened, into a performance of painting and a moment of life. In that sense, the painting appears better than we ever could have dreamed. It goes back to this world. The painting outdoes the painter – through unveiling something more than what he had planned.
Inside of the cracks, if we watch carefuly, we see another color, it is not black or white, and at moments it seems like it’s not grey either. It varies from spot to spot, it is reddish, brownish, somewhere close to the color of flesh. It is the color of revenge. The revenge of the painting.

I have been going through an anti-ads period lately, where I can’t stand listening to commercial radio, free TV, pay TV or looking at billboards, magazines, websites, and newspapers filled with advertising. I have even contacted a few companies and complained about the crud they forcing on the public, which is strange for me as I’m usually anti-complaining too!

Hopefully it is just a phase I’m going through and I can get back to society’s normal soon, otherwise I’ll be forced to become a hermit in the hills, which could be a problem as I really do like people and the Internet (most caves in hills have neither).

I’m offended by the exaggerations, half truths, sneaky tactics, catchy jingles, TV ads that yell, the way that ads are louder than the program you are trying to watch, the way that advertisements are placed IN programs, the color red shoved in my face, small print for the truth, large print for the lies, repetitiveness, repetitiveness, repetitiveness, ads aimed at children, flashing Internet ads, pop ups, spam, and the crap that is sold on them ridiculous infomercials that are usually on television late at night.

The funny thing about this passionate dislike of advertising is that I make most of my income from ADVERTISING!! That probably makes me a hypocritical walking contradiction.

Saks Fifth Avenue’s senior vice president for marketing Terron E. Schaefer recently said “What we do every day, really, is propaganda.” I thought it was a refreshingly honest thing for a marketing man to say. He said the quote in a press release on a Saks marketing campaign where Shepard Fairey has designed some Soviet propaganda influenced promotional material, but it was still a brave thing to say.

I was invited to curate a digital art show at the Islip Art Museum in Sayville, New York (Long Island). I named the show “A Passion for Pixels.” Fifty-two artists are on display June 18 to September 7th.

The main thing that has struck me about digital over the last 10 years is that most people understand nothing about it. Sadly, the local media do a dreadful job of explaining. So, one of my concerns about this show is that it be educational.

Instead of Realism, Abstract and such, I tried to group the works according to how much digital they contained and the methods used. For example, the biggest room is titled “The Altered Image” and contains, as a note explains, only works that started with a digital photograph which was then altered in a program such as Photoshop. I’m betting that even a simple device like this pulls visitors into the digital process. I like to imagine they go home talking like connoisseurs.

The main thing to report about the show is that digital has moved quickly from being an exotic new medium to being another option that adventurous artists toss into the mix. A big percentage of the work was digital IN SOME SENSE. I and the two people helping me would often stare at a piece asking, “Wait, is that part digital??” Boundaries have become a blur.

Also interesting, a number of pieces referenced pixels but were done in traditional media. Didn’t expect that!!

Mary Lou Cohalan, the Director of the Islip Art Museum, commented: “This show is a crash course in digital art. Bruce Price, our insightful curator, is also a noted educator. He has put together a wonderful exhibition that is strong on aesthetics and long on digital education. There have already been tours and people respond well.”

Created by Bruce Price On 07/13/08 At 06:49 PM