Statments & Essays

No Respect

(early artist statement circa 1999)

Why? Why bother with such an labor of love?

Because it is my belief that the beauty aesthetic in art is dead,

or is at the very least, so open to interpretation that it can no longer be defined.

Because sex, death, and violence are the only constants in our world, and in art, there is no where else to go. Because technology has only enhanced these urges, not advanced us beyond them as many would contend. These nightmare/fantasies are the very nature of who we are, as species, as animals, they are something we cannot escape.

Because I don’t like you. Because I’m no better than the rest. Because all examples of tech art are shit. Only embraced by soulless ad men, too impotent to create without a label on their back or by virgin zit poxed cyber pussies with fractals in their asses. Because I have no talent, and I don’t want to work. Because I love the gagging looks of the coffee shop artists as they choke mocha when I tell them my “shtick.”

Because my work is anti-art by the definition of my method. I revel in the low brow commercial implications of working on a non-textural virtual machine. Computer collage is an exercise in purist voyeurism, far more so than any form of true art. I can’t touch it, I can’t feel it, I can’t enter it’s space. I can look into it, see it, but the screen blocks my access to it.

Because positives and negatives are irrelevant, and no one will be let off easy.

Because I embrace the technology that so many artists with “talent” fear. The little piggies of artistic elitism vainly clinging on to their paintbrushes. Yet at the same time I hate the machines that so easily allow my visions to take shape. Too easy is the software, every fat house wife and inept social retard becomes “creative.” So simple are the results. Yet I adore the machine that will eventually kill the canvas, the darkroom, the etching needle. Oh the genius.

Because the displaced diligent layout cut and paste grandfathers are already long dead. The art world sensibility is next to go. There is nothing that can’t be reproduced.

Because the computer as a metaphor for today’s society is far more complete than a mere symbol of our brave new millennium. It is a technology which embraces numbed senses. The coldness and distance modern Americans adapt to survive in this age is represented in the glassy screen that I stare into. It is a machine which brings the world closer while distancing and removing all the emotions which would give that closeness meaning.

Because this and upcoming generations need to pinch themselves harder and harder in order to remind themselves that they are alive.

Because I want to punch you in the face.

Because by it’s own definition, there is no art left in the world. Nothing is precious, there is no true beauty and I question if there ever was. Yet there is always another knave who gets up on the soap box of academia and screams, “eureka!”

Because the impressionists were irrelevant like low fat milk and tasteless cheese. The Futurists were juvenile in their tantrums and never looked at their own work. The Surrealists fell short and sold out. The Dadaists didn’t do enough. Art manifestos and movements through history are no more than the screams of diaper clad narcissists, holding their breath and waving their arms from the fringe, begging the mainstream to listen. Whether through pronouncements of vulgar shock, unobtainable revolution, or self praising intellectualism, the end results are nothing more than legacies of office lobby sentiments and coffee table clutter.

Because some day I plan to urinate on the side of the Guggenheim, revenge for the crimes of intellectual inaccessibility for the poor and the common who I despise while feeling the need to champion

Leave a reply

Fields marked with * are required