On any given day, I’ll plug a series of favorite tags into Tumblr to see what come up. I’m curious to see if there’s anything new, inspiring, or interesting about my favorite topics or people. Something that catches my eye might get a “like” or even a reblog. Tumblr has a pleasing immediacy of visual experience that’s utterly lacking in strict classification (unlike Pinterest), which makes it somehow more visceral and pleasingly jolting than other platforms (if also occasionally challenge to post to – you’re never sure just what’ll blow up, or why). Tonight I plugged in the name of a longtime favorite artist, just to see what came up. I wasn’t prepared for the result.
Jenny Holzer, it appears, has gone high-fashion. Her truisms are appearing in Vogue Italia alongside model/singer/actor Milla Jovovich, carefully posed and poised in a variety of high-end settings. Is this to coincide with the release of Resident Evil: Retribution? Is it making a political point? Is it trying to bridge the worlds of high fashion and art (not that they need help)? My initial reaction was deeply unsettled; I felt dismayed Holzer would sell her talent out to an industry that is so reliant on the ephemeral, the superficial, the temporal and the boringly inauthentic. Her art has always struck me as the precise opposite of those qualities; real, deep, fierce, and deeply, sarcastically challenging of the expected norm, it also possesses a deeply feminist quality that separates it from many other contemporary artworks. Holzer’s work is ferociously female and isn’t afraid to express that through her art, while retaining her sense of being a human being -and human creator- first and foremost. (For an interesting corollary -and contrast – check the work of Cindy Sherman, who recently collaborated with M.A.C.) And there’s something awfully disconcerting about seeing Holzer’s snippy, snide truisms stuck beside super-pricey, high-end frocks most people will never wear, much less be able to afford. What the hell is someone as smart as Holzer doing in the flaky, flimsy, aesthetically-obsessed, surface-worshipping world of high fashion? And why would it be with someone who’s known for being very pretty, but doing very little, outside of (wildly successful, if deeply lowbrow) zombie movies (and games), oodles of posing, a very mediocre album (yes, some of us bought it), and a mysterious Oscar appearance? Why Jenny, why? I’m sure my snobbery is showing at this point, but… c’est la vie.
In re-examining these images now, an hour or so later, I find myself intrigued, challenged, confused -and rather enjoying that mix of feelings. (Also, Peter Lindbergh’s photography work is truly gorgeous.) I recently told a friend, after she’d viewed the work of Egon Schiele in-person and found it “upsetting,” that art shouldn’t be about making one comfortable, that art isn’t about reassurance, or validating our world view; it’s frequently about riling up feelings of discomfort and challenging our smug, too-cozy preconceptions. I wrote this to her last week, and now I’m being confronted with that very experience. Karma, irony, just-desserts, call it what you will… but I’m glad I plugged Holzer’s name into Tumblr tonight. Maybe it’s about creating a strong contrast – between all that high-end frockery and the raw realness of Holzer’s art. Maybe it’s about confronting women like me with our pre-conceived ideas relating to art, fashion, self-image, and empowerment. Maybe, amidst the shallow parade of lights and finery, there’s some fierce depth going on.
Lesson? Not all art will conform to my definitions and world view -to my experience of being a woman, of being a writer, a culture vulture, a human being -and perhaps some of it -especially the work of favorite artists -shouldn’t.
Thanks for the confusion, Jenny. Thinking too much can only cause problems.
(Note: Title of this blog post is also a Holzer trusim!)
Today: 2pm hit and I made a face.
I don’t recognize this.
Then I remembered: Soundcheck ended. Well, not ended forever, but the celebrated afternoon music show on WNYC has taken a hiatus for the summer. It’s being re-imagined and re-tooled for its post-Labor Day return (in a new evening timeslot) and you can follow its progress online.
Friday’s final afternoon program was all about resolutions – specifically musical ones. John Schaefer’s call to listeners, asking them what musical promises they wanted to keep, got me thinking, and feeling more than a little guilty. I’ve been making audio commitments to myself now for ages: I’m going to listen to this new album. I’m going to check out that cool band. I’m going to get to more live shows.
And despite covering The Cult’s new album, getting into a great new DJ, and seeing Garbage live, I still feel like I’m not doing enough. With every new week comes a new onslaught of albums, bands, shows, all of which I feel I should be paying more attention to. Then there’s the backwards glance – and a glance is really all it’s been when it comes to my own, embarrassingly limited musical knowledge.
Raised as a classical music-playing child, I didn’t really find out about the work and influence Bob Dylan, David Bowie, or The Rolling Stones until well into adolescence. My house was filled with the sounds of Cash, Presley, and ABBA (to say nothing of Back, Beethoven, and Mozart) for many years. Later, with my very-own turntable in my bedroom, neither The Clash and nor Black Flag provided the soundtrack to teenaged rebellion; Aretha Franklin, Ronnie Spector, and Donna Summer did. I related to the strong, glamorous ladies whose music I could dance to. A big part of me still does.
The first time I heard Bob Dylan I was fifteen years old. The song was “Tangled Up In Blue” and it was played to me by a Dylan-loving friend of my mother’s. I’d never heard anything like it; the words dripped with angst, and anger, and a world-weariness I hadn’t quite known before. Somehow, it made the grunge explosion that followed in popular culture make more sense. A guest of Schaefer’s on Friday confessed she didn’t know enough about Dylan’s either, and that her musical resolution over the summer was to correct that oversight.
It was oddly comforting to hear that kind of confession in such a public forum. Admitting you don’t know the canons of such huge music monoliths in public is hard, and it was nice to see Soundcheck – a show I consider to be as much entertainment as education, and a major smarty-pants beacon of deep pop culture know-how -welcome such curiosity with open arms. It’s nice to not be afraid of judgment, or be worried about appearing uncool, of lacking taste, of being plain stupid, but to just be welcomed and accepted.
Perhaps that’s why the “ending” of Soundcheck hit me harder than I expected, and why today’s 2pm mix-up was a bit of a slug in the guts. Schaefer and the fantastic Soundcheck team have provided a wonderful forum for the musically curious masses (with whom I deeply identify) to learn, to ask questions, to branch out, to exercise our curious ear-muscles and maybe have a dance or two across our office/kitchen floors. Thusly inspired, this is what I’d like: to further my contemporary music-scene knowledge while deepening my appreciation of its past. Can it be done with any measure of success? I’ll let you know when Soundcheck’s back on the air in September. I’m starting here. Don’t judge.