"The Stuckist movement has offered the Tate 100 paintings by
its members for their collection. If the Tate accepts these ridiculous
daubs the Jackdaw will dance naked - except for his favourite
swastika armband - down Whitehall singing Mamma Mia."
- David Lee, The Jackdaw, 2005 (on the Stuckists)
"These
vociferous opportunists are revealed to be nothing more than
a bunch of Bayswater Road-style daubers, without an original
idea between them. Typical of the laughably bad work are...crude
portraits."
- Sarah Kent, Time Out, 2002 (on the Stuckists)
"How
can the government dare welcome such a collection of inanities
into a museum? Why, have you seen the collection? The state
the ward of such junk!" - Gérôme, L'Éclair, c 1894
(on the Impressionists)
"The
impression given by all these clumsily daubed portraits is truly
painful; they bear witness to a fatal impotence." - Sarradin,
Les Debats, 1904 (on Cézanne)
"I
have seen people rock with laughter in front of these pictures....
These would-be artists... take a piece of canvas, colour and
brush, daub a few patches of paint on it" - columnist,
1876 (on the Impressionists)
"Here
is nothing, we are sorry to say, but the desire to attract attention
at any price." - Gautier, Moniteur, 1865 (on Manet's
Olympia)
David
Lee and Sarah Kent are normally on opposite sides of the artistic
debate. David Lee advocates 'traditional' values in art and can
be seen on television outside the Turner Prize slating the exhibits,
as well as anything else featuring pickled sea creatures and stained
bed linen. Sarah Kent goes to Damien Hirst's private views and
works for Charles Saatchi and the White Cube Gallery, editing
catalogues and writing essays. She skilfully combines this with
the strict impartiality of her other job as Art Editor for Time
Out, promoting exhibitions by the White Cube Gallery, Charles
Saatchi and Damien Hirst.
They personify
the current state of art in this country. On one side are the
'modern traditionalists' whose drawing standards derive from the
High Renaissance and whose painterly inclinations are Post Impressionist.
They communicate, but with minimal content as the subject area
is largely already mapped out by genres of still life, landscape
and portraiture - but they 'can paint'. Unfortunately the frequently
tired appearance of their output is what has given painting a
bad name.
On the other
side is anything which sabotages that ethos and which currently
can be termed for convenience 'conceptual art'. The 'conceptualists'
have lots of new ideas for art, particularly an obsession for
using materials which have not previously been used for art and
a willingness to address the previously unacceptable in art. This
certainly makes an initial impact on the gallery visitor, but
the initial impact is its main content, as it is mostly an incorporation
or reflection of that which is already in common use outside the
gallery. No one had ever seen a bed in the Tate before 1999, but
there was hardly a shortage of them at large in the world. The
conceptualists do try hard to come up with something new - you've
got to give them that. But it is their over-zealousness in this
respect (and consequent neglect of other important respects) that
has given their art a bad name.
Stuckism is
a synthesis of the best qualities of the two schools. It recognises
the enduring capability of the painted image to communicate and
evoke, but insists that content drives style and generates its
own technical standards. It refuses to adopt a codified approach
in this respect from 500 years ago: for the traditionalists it
is (often) bad painting - daubs in fact.
Stuckism accepts
the necessity of freedom of thought and, if necessary, transgression.
However, it also insists on the value of truth to self, emotion
and experience, disregarding the fashions of the current supposed
'avant garde'. Matthew Collings stated this clearly in Art Review
(December 2004):
"The
drift in the art world for years has been to come up with pseudo-popular
forms for formerly (that is, in the 1970s) genuinely elitist or
obscure conceptual art contents. But you can't get it wrong -
wrong popular is punished with sneers. (Grayson) Perry is right
popular like Tracey Emin; both are victims of abuse, use text,
do multi-styles and are willing to be embarrassing in a controlled
context where the codes of the conceptual academy are confirmed.
(The Stuckists are of course wrong popular: they do the fourth
thing but only the first half of it.)"
{What he -
and other detractors - fail to recognise is the conscious choice
to occupy this position: he assumes that being naive is the result
of naivety.) The Stuckists have the challenging values that are
to be commended, but take this too far by challenging and thereby
discomforting the art elite who are meant to be in on the joke,
not the butt of it. This lack of compromise and flattery does
not allow the easy evasion of taking the work as ironic or knowing-dumb.
It insists on facing the reality of it, and reality isn't the
surface of acceptable high gloss - it is the depth of the less
palatable 'daub'.
It might be
worth pointing out here how the two schools both adopt the part
of Stuckism that suits them. The traditionalists are only too
glad of a vocal and 'alternative' group that condemns conceptual
art and defends painting, though they politely avert their eyes
from actual Stuckist work. Indeed David Lee himself has done exactly
this, writing previously in a foreword to The Stuckists
book (2000):
"Anyone
who is prepared to stand up vociferously against this spate of
state-sanctioned flairlessness and effrontery is worth supporting."
Many conceptual
artists are envious of the Stuckists' ability to command media
attention with novel stratagems - indeed the conceptual proto-Mu
group in Birmingham gave me their award for Conceptual Art for
our Turner Prize 'clown' demos . Prominent Brit artist, Gavin
Turk, expresses the most tolerant view possible (interviewed about
The Stuckists Punk Victorian show at the Walker Gallery,
Liverpool by the BBC) without actually falling off the edge of
the art code:
"I'm
not against the Stuckist thing. I find the whole thing quite
interesting because it's a sort of counter cultural movement,
which was set up to try and discuss the idea that the way that
British art was moving was incorrect; and they wanted to try
to bring British art back to something that dealt with more
vernacular issues more carefully. I don't actually think the
Stuckists do deal with vernacular issues carefully, but it's
very interesting to find a kind of collective - an art collective,
if it can be called that. And I think there are some interesting
paintings in there. I would definitely say that people, if they're
in Liverpool, should try and go and see the Stuckist exhibition
as well."
Gavin Turk
has the intelligence and independence to put himself in a position
which embodies risk, but as Collings would say he doesn't "get
it wrong". Three years ago his statement would have got it
wrong, but the art code changes through various pressures (media
exposure being a major one). Adrian Searle, art critic of The
Guardian, is, like Sarah Kent, taking the less astute risk
of burning his bridges:
"So
dreadful are they that one might be forgiven for thinking there
must be something to them. There isn't, except a lot of ranting."
If we were
only to declare the whole of Stuckism a giant ironic piece of
conceptual art, all would be forgiven and we would be featured
in Modern Painters magazine.
Anyone who
can write off an exhibition of thirty-seven such varied artists
as were in the Liverpool show with one technical evaluation is
simply not bothering to look at the work. Even applying the 'traditional'
standards of a body such as the NEAC (New English Art Club) must
give credence at least to Charles Williams, as he is a committee
member of it, frequently exhibits at the 'traditional' Mall Gallery,
and was the top student in his year at the Royal Academy with
the prize for anatomical drawing. Peter McArdle is a consumate
craftsman who spends six to nine months on a painting applying
up to seventeen layers of oil glaze to achieve his effects. He
was praised by Paul Clark (Evening Standard, 10 Jan 2001) as "a
top draughtsman".
Obviously
then, Lee's accusation of 'daubs' is not what one would normally
mean by such a term.
Likewise in
the arena of conceptual art, Stuckist paintings can prove quite
acceptable in themselves. Billy Childish (Stuckist co-founder
and now ex-Stuckist) has been accommodated in the Hayward Gallery
and the British Art Show alongside Brit artists such as Tracey
Emin and Sarah Lucas. My own work was chosen by conceptualist
Mike Chavez-Dawson for a show which also included the fashionable
Bob and Roberta Smith. Richard Cork, staunch supporter of the
conceptual academy (and at the time art critic of The Times) told
me he thought my work was conceptual (though he failed to write
one review of it or any Stuckist show).
In these contexts,
the condemnation of 'daub' does not seem to be evoked, which leads
us to the question of 'When is a daub a daub, and when is a daub
not a daub?'
The answer
seems to be that the same work of art which is quite acceptable
in the context familiar to the perceiver, turns into a 'daub'
when it is put in the context of being a Stuckist work of art.
It is then
not the work itself which is objectionable, but the ideas behind
it. In a conceptual context, it is the conceptual aspect of the
work which will be stressed. Likewise in a 'traditional' context,
the traditional aspect (or shortcomings thereof) will be highlighted.
But neither of these is the most important aspect of the work
and in a Stuckist context it is the most important aspect that
will be brought out.
It becomes
obvious in a Stuckist context that the rigid demands and assumptions
of neither the traditionalist nor the conceptualist are being
met. Individual works may well meet those requirements, but that
is not the point. In a Stuckist context even the works that would
in another context be acceptable are stating by association "I
can work to your values, but they are not my most important values.
If they were, I would not be prepared to be seen in this context.
The fact that I am prepared to be shown with these other artists
tells you that the values I share with them matter most to me."
So Stuckist work
which has a strong 'conceptual' element will not satisfy the conceptualist,
because it is minimising it in favour of the collective general
'anti-conceptual art' Stuckist ethos. Likewise 'traditionally' sound
work commits the offence of being exhibited on an equal basis with
work which is grossly 'unsound' traditionally. Ella Guru painted
life models for three years at art college; she states:
"I care very much about ability and technique....
but I also admire work which is untrained but inventive."
Charles Williams reiterates the same attitude:
"My RA training has been invaluable, but I always
feel uncomfortable when people with my training laugh at those
who haven't but are still creative and sincere. I value their
paintings."
This explains
why the magazine which David Lee once edited, Art Review,
was quite happy to conclude in a review of Peter McArdle's work
in his pre-Stuckist days that it "augured well for the future
of British painting". "Now," laments the Stuckist
McArdle, "I am a dauber."
'Traditional',
'conceptual' and 'Stuckist' works are all made now and have overlaps
through sharing a contemporary experience, but they are orientated
at different angles to the contemporary, and, as time moves on
and the direction of travel is maintained, the divergence becomes
greater. It is the sense of that which creates the friction. The
different ideas behind the work will lead to an even more marked
difference in the future, and that is what the battle is for.
It is essential
for the future of art that the values that do emerge are not 'conceptual'
or 'traditional' but 'Stuckist', namely the primacy of truth,
both through content which has experiential, emotional, and philosophical
veracity and also through expression which has fidelity to that
content by making, in the artist's own fashion, symbolic visual
creations, which allow the 'transference' of consciousness from
creator to viewer. To put it more simply, it is about making a
picture that means something real. It is not about ephemeral fashionable
art games; it is not about adhering to rigid out of fashion technical
standards. It is about the vitality of the living spirit in the
now.
This creative
result is, it would seem, known as a 'daub' and the practitioner
of it as a 'dauber'.
Yet again
history repeats itself as if it's got nothing better to do, and
as if nobody ever bothers to study it. The insult of the worthlessness
of 'impressionist' art was transformed after a few decades into
paintings bought for millions. Likewise Picasso was deemed even
by his closest supporters to have lost his mind when he revealed
Les Demoiselles D'Avignon, now considered a major, and
by many the most important, Twentieth Century artwork.
To be dismissed
as a dauber of daubs is the contemporary version of this.
Nevertheless,
the Stuckist position is being increasingly recognised, understood
and taken seriously. Susan Mansfield wrote in The Scotsman:
"..the
Stuckists have a strong philosophical base...It’s also remarkably
difficult to pigeonhole. Stuckist work is often far from traditional
or conservative. A few paintings in Punk Victorian are as shocking
as anything Jake and Dinos Chapman could produce."
Velocity
magazine in a section headed "The exhibitions and productions
at the top of Europe's cultural agenda" stated:
"..the
Stuckists' show is a worthy argument for painting as the fundamental
medium of artistic expression, and brings a refreshing willingness
to be understood in today's world of oblique messages."
Simon Pia
in The Scotsman, not being bound by the rules of the art
code (and with a sound grasp of the fundamentals of history),
simply predicted:
"...the
next big thing in art will be ... The Stuckists."
During the
last Stuckist demo outside the Turner Prize (2004), Paul Myners,
Chairman of the Tate Trustees, remarked confidently that he had
seen our show at the Walker in Liverpool and it was "a travesty."
His main assured condemnation was directed at our exclusive employment
of one material - paint - which he termed "the medium of
yesterday."
"Yes,"
I replied, "and of tomorrow."
Charles
Thomson
8.4.05
Links
Gavin Turk onThe Stuckists Punk Victorian show, Liverpool, BBC
website listen
here
Adrian Searle in The Guardian here
Susan Mansfield in The Scotsman here
Velocity here
Simon Pia in The Scotsman here
Quotes by Charles Williams and Ella
Guru are from The Stuckists Punk Victorian (National Museums Liverpool
2004)
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