Dickens’ oft-quoted line about these being the best and
worst of times seems pretty descriptive of what’s going on now. There’s
obviously less poverty and actual suffering than ever before in human history;
most plagues have been conquered and modern medical advances are allowing us to
live longer, more comfortable lives. We can get free or almost free educations,
medical care. We can marry for love or not marry, have a fridge full of food,
own cars and possessions galore. Of course, there’s a way to go for many people
but for someone like me who was born during the Great Depression, when many of
my neighbors lived on a $25 weekly welfare check, I’ve got no complaints. My parents couldn’t even begin to imagine my
lifestyle, let alone that of their grandchildren.
Then
why are so many of the people I know so unhappy? I don’t think I’ve ever lived
in such a joyless time. Love relationships are more like hookups than caring
connections. Is it because of our present government? We have a leader who
reminds me of Mussolini: same pugnacious jaw, same arrogant posturing. (He made
the trains run on time) Where are the artists who are usually in the front line
against tyrants? Scared into silence by our President? He doesn’t worry about
them; he knows they’re just make-believe radicals, paper tigers who present no
real threat. The most interesting and well-attended art exhibit in New York
this winter was of work created in the early 1900s by a previously unknown
woman artist, Hilma af Klint, whose “inner voices” directed her to create the
first abstract paintings in the history of art. It tells us something that hers
is the most significant new work the
current art scene has to offer. Tens of thousands lined up this winter to get
into the Guggenheim Museum to see paintings she created for a circular temple
that existed only in her mind. How prescient was that!
I’d
like to think we are on the verge of another Age of Aquarius such as the one we
had in the sixties, but so far there are no signs of it. Golden Ages generally
emerge after periods of repression or social upheaval, but where are the
artists who are capable of creating this bright new world? The art schools
certainly aren’t turning them out. The current crop is taught to look for
gimmicks, ways to get attention. One can’t afford to be a starving artist
nowadays; ideals need the backing of a trust fund. There are no more cold-water
flats in unsafe neighborhoods, only 4k to 6k a month luxury lofts. Paints cost
a fortune and canvas is out of sight. No wonder there’s so much detritus art;
at least the materials are inexpensive. When I get together with my artist
friends, all we talk about is commercial success; who got into what gallery,
sold something. Theory? Ideals? Bah, humbug!
Renee
Kahn
P.
S. The illustrations for this post were painted in 2012, abstractions derived
from photos I had taken of the Lower East Side before it got gentrified (and
boring.)
