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I was just in the Bay Area visiting some family there. My Uncle Bob is an amazing painter, outstanding father figure and model citizen. I made him a website, which included photographing all the work he wanted included. Check it out and then send him fan mail.
Something that’s going to bum my mother out when she gets the New York Times tomorrow: Robert Rauschenberg died on Monday, and for some reason we’re just finding out about it now… a whole two days later.
I don’t have a whole lot of insight to add on this other than to say the most interesting thing I learned about Rauschenberg recently was that he and Jasper Johns were lovers on and off for the better part of forever, which, you know, makes a whole lot of sense.
Also, he said once, “The artist’s job is to be a witness to his time in history,” which is pretty spot-on. Not sure he’s the first to have ever said that, though. I was.
Also worth nothing: doing a google search Rauschenberg pictures evently leads you to this guy’s myspace profile.
Here’s a whole slew of obituaries to read.
Robert Rauschenberg, American Artist, Dies at 82
Robert Rauschenberg, 82; influential artist mixed painting, sculpture and cast-off items
Obituary: Robert Rauschenberg
The New Yorker came on Tuesday, and the first thing I opened to was this elaborate Mastercard ad, which I have since taken the time to remove, scan and post here. The first page reads “ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR THE PRICELESS THINGS IN LIFE?” and something to effect of “maybe it’s on the next page.” It then opens to a spread of this Julian Schnabel painting (self portrait?). The back of that has an envelope pasted to it, which is a chance to win a commissioned Schnabel painting of youself, which opens to reveal that, alas, you did not win but should check out the Mastercard website.
Schabel, I think, is the kind of postmodern painter who started painting in order to make millions of dollars anyway, so why the fuck this ridiculous credit card ad and promotion? Good for him. I can’t imagine how many other magazines they could possibly run this thing in that would reach people that would actually give a shit about it though. Artforum aaand that’s pretty much it.
Also, when I first wrote this post before the whole thing got lost when my browser crashed, I said some kind of insightful stuff about the art market, but now I’m just going to say that that it’s a good thing Schnabel’s tightened up his game since ‘96 when he made Basquiat because that movie totally fucking sucked.
UPDATE: Fixed the link. Sorry for being an idiot.
This is a story from the New York Times today that’s worth taking a look at. It’s written by an Iraqi sculptor and, not surprisingly, provides a new view of how terrifyingly dark and impossibly fucked up it is there.
So every time I pick up my pen and try to sketch, I find myself drawing scenes of death, and when I try to think of it as a way to let off steam a little, I start to feel pity for the person who is going to see it.
See?
© Greg Wasserstrom
I blog day in and day out for three different political sites now. I’m still at Wonkette, though only doing a couple posts per day, and I started Cynics’ Party with a former Wonkette editor a couple weeks ago, so please check that out. It’s a lot of dick jokes. I’m also writing Whitehouse.com, which, if you recall used to be porn site. Now, it’s just my writing which is shitty deal for everybody other than me. Politics takes over my life in an election year, but there’s not fighting it, children. There’s only giving in.
So this is going to be different now, starting with the post that comes next, maybe tonight, maybe in a couple days. I am going make a journal that will be a photobook, and I’m going to write it here. When it’s ready, I’ll lay it out into a book with pictures, ad things, subtract things, include comments, exclude them, put in links, take them out, etc, and send it out to whoever is interested.
I’m going to start making work that fits into my life. Right now, my life is impossibly wonkyv and I just can’t swing the Dash Snow impression at the moment. I’m also going to redesign the blog part of the site soon so it also looks like me and not like a wall in the fucking MoMA.
While I’m trying to sort myself out, check out this new(ish) blog from Britt Boyd, a talented and versatile artist and a good friend of mine. She writes about art and design of all kinds and her blog is a great source of new and interesting things.
Woman in a Tub by Jeff Koons
This week’s New Yorker arrived today and it has a must-read article for all of us toiling away toward art-world relevance: a profile of gallerist/dealer/patron extradonaire Jeffrey Deitch of the ubiquitous Deitch Projects by author Calvin Tompkins. Through Deitch, Duchamp biographer Tompkins paints a comprehensive (and terrifying) picture of the art world today and I feel smarter having read it (photograhs by Lisa Kereszi).
Unfortunately, it’s not available online. Later, if I’m feeling it, I’ll make a pdf of all ten million pages and put them up here. But we’ll see.
The piece charts the trajectory of Deitch’s career, explaining the provenance of today’s hyperactive act market, fueled by hedgefund managers, and new buyers in Russia, Asia and the Middle East. Today’s art market is global, with records set for the sale of contemporary art every time there’s a major auction.
With Impressionist and Post-Impressionist almost completely snatched up by museums, collectors and whoever else, how long before this market, ravenous for contemporary art, collapses on itself? Also, and way way more importantly, how do I get a piece of the action?
I’m half-kidding about that last thing, but seriously, my tiny incramental progress towards whatever in the past months seems massively insignificant compared to Damien Hirst or Jeff Koons or whoever. Obviously, I have no business comparing myself to either of those artists or really anyone else for that matter (hear that Lavalette? In a duel, I’m pretty sure I’d win) but, of course, I can’t help myself. I don’t mean to sound grandiose, either. My work reflects exactly who and what I am: a 22 year-old with modest talent trying to figure our what the fuck I’m doing.
In the past couple weeks I’ve been grappling with the work I’ve been making. So many of us coming up have work so similar it would be impossible to tell us apart in a lineup. What makes me different from the legions of other twenty-something snap shot photographers? Nothing really, except I’m better, probably, though Brad Treomel is cut from stone.
So, before my work can sell for hundreds of millions of dollars, before I should worry about the art market or greater American economic collapse, I should probably put some serious thought into what it is I intend to say with my work. Pretty people doing pretty people things is only going to carry me so far.
© Greg Wasserstrom
I just updated the long-neglected portfolio part of this site, added a new series called The Doldrums, the set my Fjord and Must Warn Others selections came from. I guess I’m sort of still working on it but at least now it’s up where it can be seen.
I’m still working on my sex book, The Honorable Parts. I promised it mid-August which was incredibly presumptuous of me because I don’t have nearly enough pictures for it yet. So give me a call next time you’re about to knock boots, and I’ll come hang out. Sound good?
© Greg Wasserstrom
me: hey!
Bryan: hey man
me: hows it going/
howd the show go?
Bryan: pretty well. just got back
fucking awesome!!
me: yeah?
Bryan: yeah, you sold one
me: i did?
holy shit
Bryan: yeah, the swimming hole
me: fucking a
how much?
Bryan: i think $75, it’ll buy an african child school supplies
me:
dude that’s rad
im so stoked
Bryan: yeah, the galllery was small but super nice and the installation looke dreally good
me: fucking a
Bryan: lots of people for the opening and al. old guys with berets and shit
me: haha
do you have any pics of it?
Bryan: nah
there are shows on last nights shoes .com
but they are only shoes
me: hahah
So this would be the first time I’ve ever sold a print to someone who wasn’t a friend or relative. I’m glad that milestone could occur as part of the MWO launch, and the money will go to charity. Also, I didn’t realize how profane my speech is until reading back. Sorry, Mom.
