What does this year's Top 10 say about our public?

Let me first clarify by saying that I realize the term public is general and does not directly represent the many who didn’t participate in the ArtPrize hullabaloo. If all of Grand Rapids cast their votes for what they deemed “good” art, we may have seen entirely different results. So, perhaps it's not fair to claim that these votes reflect the majority views of our city. Nonetheless, we can’t deny that these results indicate a milieu that permeates our local culture. For the sake of discussion, I’m going to assume the old, broad claim that art mirrors cultural values. So, what do these top 10 votes reveal about what Grand Rapids values, even rewards? And where do we go from here?

In solidarity with the city that I love and want to keep getting better, I’m going to use the royal we.

1. We prefer entertainment over inspiration.

Interestingly, the term amusement is derived from the Latin, a (without) muse (inspiration), literally meaning that which is without inspiration or stimulation. Under Construction’s guess-which-one-is-real trick is the kind of game you engage in on a family road trip, when you’re bored out of your mind. Does the fact that this all-too familiar tourist attraction (it falls short of being labeled performance art or sculpture) resides in the Top 10 indicate a mental weariness or resignation? It seems we don’t even care if the joke is a good one. Humor and smarts need not be mutually exclusive in art, as Mimi Kato’s entry, One Ordinary Day of an Ordinary Town demonstrates as it juxtaposes multiple selfportraits with traditional Japanese landscape and contemporary comic style.

2. We prefer nostalgia over progression.

It appears we’d rather be reminded of where we’ve been rather than where we’re going. And I’m not even talking about a thoughtful reflectiveness. Nope, we want to look in a foggy rearview mirror. Case in point: President Gerald Ford Visits ArtPrize. Plenty of others have pointed out the shameless pandering this piece embodies, but have we asked why? So the guy looks real, why should we be interested in Ford showing up at ArtPrize? Does he have something to contribute to the discussion? Like this sculpture that gazes at its own artifice, we’re too caught up in staring at an unchanging surface to look ahead. Is the fact that three of this year's artists are repeat winners further proof that we relish the familiar at the cost of originality?

Similarly, Tavonatti’s Crucifixion refuses to bring a fresh viewpoint to iconic imagery. For those to whom the actual crucifixion means something, why are we okay with regurgitated imagery? I think an appropriate visual response to this question might be Mier Lobaton’s Serial Reproduction at UICA in which each reproduction of the Christ figure is a diminished derivative of its predecessor.

3. We admire hard work over invention.

While The Tempest II and Rain may be the more poetic and compelling of these works, I can’t help but be disappointed as to why they are in the Top 10. As I stood by The Tempest II, viewer musings were limited to the amount of effort and time involved. Similar remarks centered around Tavonatti’s mosaic. "Can you imagine how much time that took?" "My all those pieces! All that cutting..." I married the grandson of Iowa farmers, and I thank God for the Midwest work ethic. But this A for effort mentality doesn’t nurture creativity and invention. Without that invention, we will continue to be labeled a dying city.

4. We value size over substance

The word spectacle seems to be closely associated with ArtPrize, as top voted pieces share certain spectacular qualities, namely size. There is a place for spectacle, and I do love my share of outlandish theatrics. But we ought to be thoughtful about the role of spectacle in art.

In regards to theater, Aristotle claims that the chief aim of this art is to evoke pathos, or fear and pity. Many today might agree with Aristotle, that one of art’s functions is to stir our deepest emotions. About the role of spectacle, Aristotle notes, “Fear and pity may be aroused by spectacular means; but they may result from the inner structure of the piece, which is the better way, and indicates a superior poet” (Poetics, Section 2, Part XIV). In other words, spectacle in itself is not bad, but quality artwork relies on more internal, nuanced means to communicate. 

Ocean Exodus is pure spectacle in its Monster Truck Rally meets Fishing & Wildlife aesthetic. It promises all of the fun of a spinning carousel but denies any of the pleasure. If only we could ride it…

5. We would rather proclaim than inquire.

For me, this is perhaps the most troubling revelation of the Top 10. With the exception of Rain and Tempest, each of the top-voted makes an obvious statement. In the Speaker Series last week, chief curator of LA’s Hammer Museum, Anne Ellegood urged the public, “We need to let go of the hubris of needing to know everything.” Ellegood intentionally curates work that questions what art can be and do. She seeks out conceptual artists whose work is after the mystical, the magical, the unattainable because it’s this kind of work that shifts our perspective and opens up a new space in our thoughts. In the frenzied state of most of our lives, it's certainly understandable to gravitate towards that which affirms or amuses. However, if we cannot favor a culture that challenges and moves us, we cannot expect to grow.

As Grand Rapids is experiencing promising economic growth, I sincerely hope that we don’t simply dream to be bigger, as Mantis Dreaming might suggest, but to be better than we are. And I'm not the first to suggest, the fact that we're having this conversation is a promising first step.