“I cannot and will not cut my conscience to fit this year's
fashions,” Lillian Hellman (left) told the House Un-American Activities Committee
anti-Communist witch hunt brigades in 1952. Hmmm. What has this got to do with
a blog about art? Here’s what: I don’t
cut my thoughts to fit this year’s fashions. My eye, my responses to what I
see, the collectors and dealers I met, is independent. But I do cut the way I express what I see and
what I think about what I see and who I meet to fit the style, space, and
editorial demands of the publications for which I write. Sometimes that pinches
and, although most journalists don’t talk about this, the pinching can lead to
distortions. Making money isn’t the only reason I do it. There are plenty of
other lines of work that pay more than being a visual arts journalist. I like communicating with who knows how many
other, unknown, people who also love beautiful, curious, amazing works of art
and get annoyed or dejected when rubbish is passed off as genius. It should be
said that, sometimes, editing makes what I am trying to get across get there
more fluently. But blogging, as I have been slow to grasp, offers the change to
breathe more naturally; to speak in my own voice, freely. This is irresistible
and exciting.
Another thing I
should say up front: In my eyes there is only one art—not high or low; not fine
or decorative. Paintings, sculpture,
furniture, ceramics, jewelry,
textiles, embroideries, glass—I look at and care about a lot of all of this;
the people who make or made it and those who collect and sell it. That’s the
landscape I explore.
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