Silliman's Blog: "... any history of American painting of the last century that doesn't put Warhol on the same plane ultimately with Pollock isn't credible, I would think, just as one that tried to place Rothko or Rauschenberg on that same plateau would not be credible."
I guess I just don't agree that there are these two planes, and that one's credibility depends on placing these painters on these two "planes" in the way that Silliman suggests. Rothko belongs on the same "plane" with Pollock and DeKooning and Fairfield Porter. Rauschenberg belongs on the same "plateau" as Warhol. I'm not saying that the respective merits of these painters cannot be debated. In fact, I'm saying that the respective merits of these figures should be debated, and that the results of this debate cannot be pre-empted with talk of a "credible" position. Ron's earlier dismissal of Rodin as Romantic Kitsch leads me to believe that he is not a credible guide to the visual arts.
The comment boxes in Ron's blog, by the way, are ridiculous. If I drew such a low caliber of comments I would cut them off in a heart beat. It might be a problem of having too many readers.
I actually deleted one obscene one today and have thought about requiring everyone to register (to minimize on the anonymouses (if that's a word),
ResponderEliminarUnreliable in the visual arts,
Ron
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ResponderEliminarI've just been over to your blog, and it looks like you've already cut off the anonymice. Curtis Faville will have to get a blogger account now.
That's the sentence that stopped me, too.
ResponderEliminarAnd, well, many are commenting at Silliman's more to get noticed than to engage in discussion. Did I mention I'm not wearing panties?
You've made me feel pedestrian for liking your poem in The Hat...
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ResponderEliminarEmily:
Although the poem does have an autobiographical subject "I," it also employs parody, cento, macaronic verse, prose-poetry, palinode, and constraints. (For example, one section consists of a series of 8-word poems.) In short, you are free to like this poem without sacrificing your postmodern hipness.