Closing arguments, part one:
The group of men, having regained
most of their composure, wanders back through the twisting streets and
passageways of Venice toward Piazza San Marco, where once again they find
themselves at Caffè Florian. It is mid-October
when temperatures here can drop dramatically for periods of a few days,
and when one must be alert to the possibility of the aqua alta, or high water, which can appear
quickly and frequently during this season. But today it is warm, and the sun
has barely begun its decline; so the artists have gathered with their coffee
around a few closely placed tables outside in the still busy piazza.
Leonardo
We did see some painting, and some
sculpture – and I am speaking here of our traditional understanding of those
arts and the materials used to create them – at the Biennale; however those
were not the art forms that one would say dominated the event. Our arts
are being replaced with "sculpture" made from new and unusual
materials, and it seems that painting is the preoccupation of fewer young
artists as they turn more and more frequently to new media, just as we once
largely abandoned painting with tempera on wood in favour of oil on canvas.
Now, as you know, I was never strictly a painter or a sculptor, or an architect
for that matter. So I applaud the many new areas of inquiry that I have
seen here. As with any other period in the history of art, the great artists of
this time will gradually be sifted from the rest. I am certain that in
this exhibition there are wonderful practitioners of painting, but I must say
that from my point of view, they are difficult to appreciate amid the cluttered
spaces I visited.
... murmurs of assent from others in
the group ...
Are painting and sculpture still
relevant? Is Bach still relevant, Vivaldi or Mozart? Of course they are, as are
we; and so too are those who follow our path. Nevertheless, it occurs to me
that perhaps painters and sculptors may now be pursuing something like a classical life
as artists. Yo Yo Ma, for example, is an exceptional artist who plays an 18th
century instrument with which he sometimes performs
music even older than that.
Smiling, his gaze directed at the
dainty demitasse that he seems preoccupied with rotating on its saucer.
Are we ... are you, artists/practitioners
of a classical persuasion?
Vedova, also smiling in a bemused
way ...
I'm not sure I am ready to be
relegated to a particular "classical" bin, Leonardo.
Picasso scowls, presses the palm of a hand to his forehead ...
Ah, screw this "classical"
nonsense. We are who we are, and nothing more or less. What is art now? A video
of some sourpuss woman saying something, saying anything with intensity?
Recorded events of "difficult" things to do as we saw in the
Japanese pavilion? The talking trees of the Finns? Who the hell knows, and
what's the urgency to know anyway? Time passes. Things change. Despite our
deep-seated desire to classify and rank everything, there is never an adequate
formula to do so. It's for the young artists, and the young curators to
separate the mediocre from the great. Accept things as they are and stop torturing yourselves.
Velazquez
There is
something about this Biennale that strikes me as being very positive. Look at
us, again. No, don't laugh. We are men, we are white, and aside from Leonardo
who has never made a firm decision about who he prefers to sleep with (Leonardo
grins mischievously), we are all heterosexual. The day of the white, male,
heterosexual painter or sculptor is done. Think how, for so many centuries,
anyone from anywhere who did not fit that description was considered an
outsider. No, that is not correct. Many great artists through time have been
homosexuals. But until recently, even they were white men. In this exhibition,
we see the work of artists of every race and every persuasion, both men
and women, striving to express themselves with clarity and honesty. This
is wonderful to see, no?
