sâmbătă, 4 decembrie 2010

Warhol’s ass or a queen’s fanny






Dear Andy,

Today, art is indeed anything you can get away with and I feel you must be quite content there, under the gold plated rails of your exquisite coffin, to hear how your contribution is still quite significant to the contemporary world of art. Should you refuse the credit and say present times are what they are, the imperfect age of men obsessed with fame and money? No, I think not. It’s only fair you assume your precious quotes. You’re still the master of it all: the best business artist the world has given yet.

Everything is art, my fair haired virgin muse. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Your ass or a queen’s fanny! We all know by now that artistic expression is defined by anticipated impression, don’t we? By one’s craftsmanship to reconstruct existing ideas and concepts. We do not have time for more! All you have to do is draw on the past, bring it forward with same content but in new shapes – and then you are an artist. The world is a vicious circle, my undead genius. And yes, we follow the lead and piss surreal paintings and vomit unwitty manifestos and shit musical tones. Look at your followers, the toilet artists and the Vogue designers and the Lady Gaga’s: they all continue your grand expensive work. For the sake of fucks you never had, let’s call this art, shall we? It pops, you must give that, it brings them the celebrity and all the cash they need to spend on drugs and other forms of fashionable entertainment.

What is in and what is out these days, Andy? What you reckon is ubercool and what we need to do to be hype? We demand to be told. The new is old, or was it the other way around? Just tell us Andy, cause we have no idea. We are the artsy fartsy.

Hoping to get away with this,
Greenlies
 

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