Voila!
The Infantile Exuberance of the Artist as Salesman
Infantilism is the psychology of our era. And when culture (art, music, literature, theater and even films) devolves to the infantile, what is left?
Materilaism.
More, bigger, brighter, things.
I
wrote about this on the cardboard cutout cloud shapes framing the Grand Army Plaza sculptures near Central Park in New York, and of Albert Paley's iron works along the Park Avenue mall.
And this is exactly what "artist" Jeff Koons is doing.
I watched an intriguing interview of Koons on Charlie Rosen's show on PBS (
here is the video).
The clever, and clearly intelligent, Koons, has spent his life upgrading the infintile to the level of art. He has used
"balloon" animals, those animals we can crudely make from balloons, in order to show the complexity of life, since the balloon forces us to think about what's
inside the empty space that contains air (air is not an "object" therefore the space is essentially empty). The simple animal-shaped balloon then becomes a repository for human philosophical thought.
How deep! Actually, it is as shallow as the empty space in those infantile balloons.
And as always, with contemporary artists, he takes himself very seriously, and adds all kinds of "layers" to his empty works. In his explanations for his million-dollar hoovers, he says:
"I think sales is the front line of society. I think it's a kind of a moral front line of society. My hoovers, they really are making a reference to the door-to-door salesman," (this section is around the 12:30 section of the video above).
So, I was right. I wrote the introductory words above on materialism without reviewing Koons' video. Koons goes on to explain:
...as a child, I was kind of brought up to be self-reliant. And I would sell drinks on a golf course. I would go door-to-door selling gift-wrapping paper. You know, kind of a lot like the images that are in my Celebration work. Bows, ribbons, candy.
Here is one of Koons' work from his Celebraions Series. He admits to his infantilism, and even venerates it.
I wonder at this materialism and infantilism of contemprory "artists."
I think it is to do with a profound lack of talent. These are not artistic people, but they are clever, and even intelligent.
In this era where art (i.e. creation) is venerated, what better thing than to be god-like and an artist, a creator?
And where materialism reigns, what better way to be rewarded for one's artistry than through money? One gets to be a god, and a rich god, at that.
So here we are, at a profound spiritual dearth. Contemporary artists realize that they have nothing bigger than themselves to aspire to, so all they can "celebrate" is the gaudy, shiny, material world around them.
And why produce the perfect painting when there is nothing left to paint? There is no family to aspire to (Koons is twice married, and his
first wife is actually a parody of a wife), no community(
says "I live down in the Wall Street area only for exclusion"), and no God.
The artist becomes the supreme creator. Where there is no god, or where he has been successfully killed, then someone has to take its place, and it is Artist that is worshiped, and who worships himself.
Here is what Koons has to say about God and his "humanitarian" beliefs:
Koons has never been religious. He was born Protestant and "grew up being taught an appreciation that other people's experiences in life and their rights." The artist is pleased to be honored by FEGS [the Jewish communal organization that deals with employment, job training and counseling.], an organization whose mission he identifies with. "There's a sense that whether somebody is Jewish or whether they're Protestant or whatever anyone's background, we have a shared history - a shared human history and our motivations, our possibilities, our desires are shared. So I really like trying to be involved with the world community as a whole, and so that why I'm thrilled to participate." [Source: The Jewish Week: FEGS honors Pop Artist Jeff Koons]
And Koons' (the Artist's) lack of artistic talent pulls him toward the infantile, pumped up to look big and impressive. Thus, Koons' supreme, infantile narcissism is evident. When Charlie Rose says to him: "You stand above the art establishment [i.e. you're so big]" Koons grimaces with an immodest "I don't know about that," as though he really does think he's great, but no-one seems to be noticing. He later on modifies his facial expression, but he is really in interview mode now, and uses the right words so as not to appear too pompous. After all, his mentors are avant-garde artists such as Picasso and Dali, and he is "trying to participate in this kind of tradition, the extension of the avant-garde." But Koons has to
sell in
his lifetime, and is not humble, or committed, enough to wait to be recognized after his death. He is not willing to be the impoverished artist with an afterlife, as were the majority (though
not all) his avant-garde mentors.
And Koons is ready to take from anything, or anyone, to fill this dearth in imagination. He has put a giant
"play dough figure" in the Whitney Museum of American Art where he currently has a
retrospective.
His most blatant act of infatilism and, theft, is his "play dough figure." This is a replica of a play dough figure his son did when a very young child. This son, the progeny of Koons and an Italian porn star, is now in Italy, under the custody of his mother. Koons can only visit, but cannot bring the boy back to America. Koons has made a replica of a play dough to commemorate this disastrous family life.
Here is what he says about that:
"It was a period when I was really losing confidence in humanity, and I had only my art to hang on to. And that's what I hung on to. And so I decided to make things to try to communicate to him [his son] that if not in this moment, in the future he could realize how much I was thinking about him."
Then Koons' pomposity rises up again, and he adds:
"And at the same time, I wanted to make things that could hold up in a larger context of making art, because at the same time I wanted to be his Dad, there was also an artist performing on, you know, the level of making great works."
He continues:
"But, a piece like play dough. My son Ludwig, I bought him some play dough during a visitation, and he made a mound, and he said "Dad!" I turned and I said "What?" And he said "Dad, look. Voila!" Koons gestures expansively with his hands.
And:
"And I looked at this mound of play dough and Charlie, it was everything that I tried to do everyday of my life. To make something that you couldn't make any judgments about...Is it too much red, is it too much blue? Is it shaped right? It was perfect...And so I ended up going to my studio and making that mound."
Art not
for his son, or for love for his son, but to make "great works" using his son's toys, his son's belongings! Voila!
And not only does he use his son's unformed, childish, play-figure, but exploits it, in the name of art, and makes millions out of it.
And of course, nothing is innocent or pure in Koons' infantile world. He explains about the "balloon" figures:
"I think that there's a mythic quality in Balloon Dog. There's an interior dark quality to it a little bit like a Trojan Horse..."
And about his art in relation to his son:
So that series, I was trying to maintain my confidence, my belief in humanity. To show my son how much I loved him. And at the same time to be performing on a, you know, the highest level that I could.
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Jeff Koons
Balloon Dog
High chromium stainless steel with transparent color coating
121 x 143 x 45 inches
307.3 x 363.2 x 114.3 cm
5 unique versions (Blue, Magenta, Yellow, Orange, Red)
1994-2000
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Jeff Koons
New Hoover Convertibles, New Shelton Wet/Drys 5-Gallon, Double Decker
two Hoover Convertibles, two Shelton Wet/Drys, acrylic and fluorescent lighting
99 x 41 x 28 in. (251.5 x 104.1 x 71.1 cm.)
Executed in 1981-1986
From Christie's:
Price Realized
$11,801,000 (Set Currency)
More at Christie's:
Notes on the piece: Lot Notes
Interviews with Koons
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Jeff Koons,
Play-Doh, 1994–2014
Polychromed aluminum
120 × 108 × 108 in.
Whitney Museum of American Art
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Posted By: Kidist P. Asrat
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