Having just received a promotional copy of Scholastic Art magazine’s December 2017 issue, entitled American Pop Art: Working with Ideas, I’m moved to comment. But there is so much wrong with it that I scarcely know where to begin.
A logical starting point, I suppose, would be the cover, featuring an Andy Warhol Campbell’s [Tomato] Soup Can (1964). What ideas, we might begin by asking, is it “working with”? In an article entitled “Ideas that Pop,” we’re told that Pop artists “found inspiration in daily life” and “presented complex and serious ideas about the world through the subjects they featured and the techniques they used.”
As for how a literal rendering of a single Campbell’s soup can conveys a “complex and serious idea about the world,” nothing is said. But Warhol’s 1962 Campbell’s Soup Cans—an installation of 32 framed canvases of single soup cans differing only in the names of the soups, and grouped side by side in four rows of eight each—is said to “reflect the abundance of choices a shopper see in any large grocery store.” By making them look “mass-produced” and displaying them this way, Warhol purportedly “points to a culture fueled by mass consumption.” That, then, would appear to be his “complex and serious” idea.
On another page, however, we learn that Warhol “claimed [he painted the soup cans] because he had eaten Campbell’s soup for lunch every day for 20 years.” Not what most people would call a “complex and serious” idea. We’re also told that Warhol “frequently had assistants produce his silkscreen prints in an assembly-line system”—in his New York City studio, dubbed “The Factory.” Indeed, while the aforesaid soup can pieces were oil paintings, the bulk of Warhol’s later work consisted of mass-produced silkscreen prints.
Most important is what we’re not told by Scholastic Art—that is, why Warhol adopted a minimally artistic, industrial approach for his work. Warhol himself made it abundantly clear, however. As he explained in an Art News interview with G. R. Swenson in 1963, he chose not to create paintings because he didn’t “love roses or bottles or anything like that enough to want to sit down and paint them lovingly and patiently.” He further confided that it was “threatening” to paint something “without any conviction about what it should be.” He used mechanical methods, he said, because he wanted “to be a machine.” Surely bizarre sentiments for a would-be artist. Yet they were entirely consistent with the zombie-like demeanor Warhol generally exhibited, leading clinical psychologist Louis Sass to compare his words and actions to those of a typical schizoid personality.1
No hint of such dysfunction is offered by Scholastic Art, however. Instead, we get this tidbit, reported without critical comment:
Warhol also made movies, but most were conceptual and without a narrative or plot (for example, he filmed a man sleeping for more than five hours).
Are students and teachers to regard that as serious movie-making?
Finally, there was Warhol’s approach to portraiture. Of his Self-Portrait (1966), we’re informed that he portrayed himself “more as a product than as an individual.” True. He also did so for his acclaimed celebrity portraits. But doesn’t that controvert the very point of a portrait? And shouldn’t teachers and students be made aware of that?
“Elevating the Everyday”
As for Pop artists in general, Scholastic Art credits them with “explor[ing] the mundane aspects of daily life” and thereby “elevating the everyday.” Works that “look like they belong in the pages of a magazine” or on “television commercials” (as the magazine notes) don’t “elevate the everyday” or “explore” anything, however. They merely replicate commercial trivia.
For examples of art that truly elevate the everyday, teachers might turn instead to seventeenth-century Dutch genre painting—works such as Jan Vermeer’s Milkmaid or Lacemaker, or the less-well-known Young Woman Peeling Apples by Nicolaes Maes, shown here. Such paintings elevate their subjects by sensitively depicting them in quiet concentration on simple everyday tasks. In so doing, they also convey a sense of what life was like in their time and place.
In contrast, Edward Ruscha’s Standard Station (1966) makes no “statement about contemporary culture” worth asking students about (as prompted by Scholastic Art caption for the image). It merely resembles a billboard sign.
Nor does Roy Lichtenstein’s Look Mickey (1961) “reinterpret an image from popular culture” in any significant sense. As reported, he created it only because his young son had challenged him to paint something “as good as” a Mickey Mouse illustration they were looking at together. All he did was greatly enlarge the image and make some minor formal changes such as simplifying the background and using dark outlines—nothing that substantially alters its significance. In fact, his paintings were little more than abstract formal designs to him. “I paint my . . . pictures upside down or sideways,” he once declared. “I often don’t even remember what most of them are about.”2
True, Lichtenstein’s work “grabs the viewer’s attention”—by its size alone—much as a billboard does. But does it hold one’s attention or prompt reflection the way the Dutch paintings cited above can? I don’t think so.
Also contrary to Scholastic Art’s assertion, Lichtenstein’s work scarcely “elevates an illustration from a children’s book to the level of high art.” If it “invit[es] viewers to think about what qualifies as art and why,” shouldn’t teachers guide their students toward recognizing the fundamental ways in which it differs from fine art? Moreover, shouldn’t they question whether “blurr[ing] the lines between popular culture and high art” constitutes progress—or should be rejected rather than embraced?
Further, if “the use of commercial art as subject matter in painting” is an earmark of Pop art—as Lichtenstein once said in an Art News interview—wouldn’t it be appropriate to point out that the subject matter of fine art has always been principally drawn from life itself, not from product ads or cartoon illustrations? And shouldn’t students be guided to think about the essential differences?
Pop Art in the Classroom
Teachers (and students) are attracted to Pop art for an obvious reason. It is much easier to create hands-on projects imitating Andy Warhol than Vermeer or Nicolaes Maes. A case in point is the Hands-On Project featured in Scholastic’s December issue. Entitled “Paint in Pop,” it aims to “use what you’ve learned about American Pop Art to explore repetition and variation.” But how much does that teach students about the distinctive cultural value of fine art?
Similarly, the “Student of the Month” work is a Warhol-like self-portrait triptych. Awarded a Gold Medal in the 2017 Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, it was created by 14-year-old Hanson Wu, who digitally edited a photo of himself and then used it to produce three self-portrait prints varying only in color. Asked whether the images reflect his personality, Wu answered “Not really.” That, too, is in the spirit of Warhol. Happily, Wu doesn’t aspire to become a fine artist, however, just a graphic designer.3
The Underlying Truth
What teachers, students, and everyone else should know about Pop Art is the truth about the primary motivation behind it. The chief aim of the Pop movement was to challenge the Abstract Expressionists—not to make any “complex and serious” statements about contemporary culture. Thus the path the purveyors of Pop took was merely to do the exact opposite of whatever the Abstract Expressionists had done, no matter how trivial or meaningless the result was.4 Philosophers, critics, curators, and much of the public fell for it and welcomed it into the realm of “high art.” It’s long past time for everyone, especially art educators, to exercise greater discretion.
Further Reading
• “The Apotheosis of Andy Warhol,” review of Regarding Warhol: Sixty Artists, Fifty Years at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Aristos, December 2012)
• “EXHIBITION: Non-Portraits” – brief review of Warhol’s Jews: Ten Portraits Reconsidered at the Jewish Museum in New York (Aristos, Notes & Comments, June 2008).
• “Portraiture or Not? The Work of [Pop artist] Chuck Close” (Aristos, February 2012)
Notes
- Louis A. Sass, Madness and Modernism: Insanity in the Light of Modern Art, Literature, and Thought (New York: Basic Books, 1992), 344–345. ↩
- Roy Lichtenstein, quoted by Robin Cembalest in “Inside the Shrine With the Straight-Talking Artist,” New York Times, August, 24, 1998. ↩
- It is worth contrasting Hanson Wu’s self-portrait with the very different one by Grace Lin, another Scholastic Art award winner—who was inspired by traditional art, not Pop. See the closing paragraphs of “How Not to Teach Art History,” For Piero’s Sake, August 7, 2017. ↩
- For more on this point, see Torres & Kamhi, What Art Is: The Esthetic Theory of Ayn Rand (Chicago: Open Court, 2000), 265–270; and Who Says That’s Art? A Commonsense View of the Visual Arts (New York: Pro Arte, 2014), 70-79. ↩
Dear Michelle,
Quite happy to see the sharpness you usually exhibit still where it is needed. Your analysis of pop art is of course spot on. I can only add my observation that might clear the confusion even further. I simply say that whatever concepts and practices were carried out by pop artists in the field of visual art, the same concepts and practices were carried out by pop musicians in the field of music. Andy Warhol = Michael Jackson, put simply. Seeing pop art from this position, it becomes abundantly clear there is nothing ‘high’ or ‘complex’ about it. It is a form of trivial art and entertainment just as Michael Jackson is.
I’m glad you find the post of value, Bostjan. Regarding your equation of Warhol and Michael Jackson, I have no comment, however, as I must confess I know next to nothing about Jackson.
Hi michelle
I really enjoyed your Pop art critique and analysis. I look forward to reading more. I do agree with your comments, and would further add that a stills camera was all that was required to achieve suitable commentary by the pop artists. Imagine mass-produced imagery in keeping with the message they wished to portray. “Koyaanisqatsi” is a documentary movie made illustrating the mass production and pollution created by man, and is way more powerful, just with less exposure unfortunately.
I am an artist represented by Gomboc gallery.
cheers
bob
As a contemporary art collector, and occasional seller, I’ve decided to take a pause and spend time thinking about what constitutes meaningful ‘serious art’ that connects with the viewer. In this context, one must think of the editioned works of not only Warhol but Koons as well.
Can one help but not wonder if thousands of his Balloon Dogs are produced in the name of benevolent democracy or pure commerce?
Your article on Scholastic Art provides the pause I needed, so thank you.
Thanks very much for your comment. On Koons, see “Art Education or Miseducation? From Koons to Herring.” Of course, the editioning isn’t the problem, but the vacuity of the work being editioned. Think of the great engravings by Rembrandt and Durer, for example.
As a collector, you might also find of interest Chapter 9 of Who Says That’s Art?.
I am appreciative of the fact that someone is challenging the almost ludicrous way that some conceptual art has removed all technical skill from the artistic process. I do wonder, however, if this line of reasoning takes into account the idea that when an artist’s work is laid open to the world it is often the viewer who takes control of the work’s meaning in their interpretation of it. Wouldn’t that then make Warhol’s statements about his intent irrelevant to the way that his work is interpreted? In the case of many historical artworks that this article might deem worthy for elevating the everyday, are there written records accompanying all of them stating that as the artists intent?
I also wonder if it isn’t an overly elitist attitude to expect that all learning in the art room be “fine art.” That is the impression I get when your response to a 14-year-old boy’s comment is “thankfully Wu doesn’t aspire to become a fine artist, however, just a graphic designer.” Or are readers being ask to overlook these things and focus on the larger point being made here that Art is being misrepresented in the Scholastic issue and/or art classrooms?
You are right to lament the removal of skill from the artistic process—which occurs to an even greater degree in “conceptual art” than in Pop Art. Strictly speaking, however, Pop is not “conceptual art.”
Regarding interpretation, the idea that the viewer determines a work’s meaning has become widely accepted in postmodernist theory. As discussed in my book, however, I disagree with that idea. The viewer’s role, as I see it, is to try to understand the artist’s intention. And the artist’s job is to try to express in visual terms the idea behind the work as intelligibly as possible without resorting to an artist’s statement. Since artists of the past rarely left statements about their work, we can only make an educated guess, based on what we see and what we know about the cultural context. Ideally, a good interpretation should be consistent with both.
With respect to recent work in which we do have verbal statements by the artists, I argue that if interpretation by reasonably perceptive art lovers differs markedly from the artist’s express intent, the fault is likely to lie in the work’s shortcomings rather than a deficiency on the viewers’ part. By the same token, if what I write is misunderstood by an intelligent, well-meaning reader, I should probably blame myself, not the reader.
I don’t think that the art room should be devoted exclusively to “fine art.” What I argue in the chapter on art education in my book is that if other types of art are included, the distinctions between their functions and properties should be made clear to students. My remark about Wu’s career aspirations was not intended to deprecate graphic design. It was simply to suggest that emulating Warhol’s model would better prepare him for that career than one in “fine art.”
Thank you for your quick reply. I respect your point of view, and though it may differ from mine, your explanation has peaked my interest enough to buy the book!
I’ve valued our exchange, Nina. Thanks for being willing to explore my viewpoint further. When you’ve had a chance to read the book, I’d love to hear your thoughts, pro or con. You might also find of interest some of my earlier blog posts, especially those on “art education” and “contemporary art” (just enter those topics in the search button).
Si cualquiera lo hace, no es arte!
Thanks to my brother-in-law, a former Spanish teacher, I find that Gloria’s comment means: If anybody can do it, it is not art. I couldn’t agree more!
When I received this sample issue of Scholastic Art, with the theme of Pop Art, my only thought was, sheesh, they’ve done this topic at least twice before. And yes, I’ve used it in my middle school art classes as a possible theme choice for kids in projects.
So refreshing to hear someone question the intent behind art for which meaning has been over-extracted. Thank you for being real about this, and next time I offer it as a choice I won’t be so overly concerned with validating the meaning behind the work!
It’s wonderful to hear that from a teacher, Cindy! Thanks for writing.
Hi Cindy,
I thought the same thing when I saw the cover! I am a middle school art teacher, as well. Using Pop art to teach printmaking techniques has been very useful in my class. It is okay to let go of the idea that every lesson has to have depth of meaning, especially when you take a look at some of the language in the National Core Arts Standards, Creating and Producing category. Sometimes, students will find inspiration or meaning in the midst of the work, sometimes they are just learning a technique. Pop art provides a great opportunity to discuss copyright issues with students, as well.
Michelle,
I am so happy to have discovered your blog today! Thank you!
Warm thanks for your response, Tina. I hope you will explore prior posts on the blog, especially those you can access by searching for “art education” and “contemporary art.” You might also find of interest “Art Education or Miseducation? From Koons to Herring” in Aristos. By the way, my own view of the National Core Arts Standards is that they provide no standards at all but simply accept and perpetuate the general breakdown of standards in the contemporary artworld—as discussed in my chapter on art education in Who Says That’s Art?.
Good afternoon!
You are a breath of fresh air in an art world filled with way too much intellectual explanation and justification for contemporary artists’ expressions.
Thanks for your kind words of appreciation.
This is provocative – so interesting that I posted its link to my Facebook page to see what sort of observations “friends” there might make. Here’s the one that has come in so far:
‘This is certainly a topic worth some thought. My initial reactions are mixed. As I get older, I find myself frequently annoyed at artists (or, in my profession, computer programmers) being described as “brilliant” when I feel that “lazy” and “deliberately weird but uninteresting” are more suitable appellations. I certainly appreciate dedication, process, and time as necessary ingredients for producing anything of value. However, I also worry that using an artist’s own words against him or her is unsteady territory. If we asked a young Mozart to describe his thought processes that went into his compositions, we might be unsatisfied with his answer, but that would be more a product of his lack of language skills due to youth than a lack of brilliance or passion for music. Similarly, Warhol lived in a time and a place in culture where “hey, man, I didn’t think about it… it just flowed” (my words, not his) is the kind of thing we wanted to hear from an artist, so I don’t think we can necessarily take his statements about his work at face value, and the complexity of thought that went into his works may have been more than he described.’
Not having asked the guy who wrote for permission, I’ll let him remain anonymous. You know where I stand on non-sense’s triumph over the art market.
Thanks for posting the link on your page, Frank! With all due respect to your friend, Mozart had absorbed and mastered a long, rich tradition in his field of classical music-making, whereas Warhol et al. began as commercial artists with a relatively narrow frame of reference. That has a lot to do with the disparate quality of what “flowed” from them.
Further, the Warhol and Lichtenstein statements I’ve quoted are not from their youth but from them as adults. My guess is that the mature Mozart would have had no trouble verbalizing the chief emotional content of his music. What do you think?
As for the “time and place” argument, Andrew Wyeth was a contemporary of the Pop “artists” and was able to articulate the thoughts behind his work—as the forthcoming issue of Aristos on him will show. The problem isn’t the time and place. It’s the character of the would-be artists and the values they espouse.
I have a different take on the soup can. It reminds me of Leonard Read’s classic “I Pencil” which shows how market economies coordinate vast numbers of suppliers to produce quality products at low prices. Start with the label: someone had bring paper and ink together to print the label; adhesive to attach it to the can; machines to wrap and seal the label around the can. The can itself, actually a “tinned” can, was made from rolled steel coated with tin. All sorts of materials, machines, expertise, and energy were required. Then there’s the soup itself … well, you get the idea.
In short, while it wasn’t Warhol’s intent, I see a visual paean to market economics.
Since it clearly wasn’t Warhol’s intent, Warren, I don’t think we can justify viewing it as a “visual paean to market economies,” which would imply conscious praise of the market on his part.