There are many Philistines in the world, but only one Goliath: that’s me. I think abstract art is a con game. I think free verse stinks. I think atonal music should be outlawed and experimental novels burned. Whenever an artist declares he’s going to break through the restrictions of his form, I feel he should be treated the same as a chess player who declares he’s going to ignore the rules of his game—like an idiot, a harmless eccentric at best. The rules are the game, the restrictions are the form. Indeed, much of the excitement of art comes from watching the spatial confines of the sonnet, say, or the canvas or the movie screen, give way into emotional infinity.
At that point in the post (which is in fact a review of Inside Man), Appuzzo treats us to a quiz: posts pictures of a DaVinci and a Pollack and asks: "Is this art?" He answers himself: "If you answered 1. Yes and 2. No, you may continue."
That certainly saved me the trouble of reading the rest of it. I wonder what he would think of this?
Anyway - anyone who that misunderstands the rules of making art probably can't be trusted even on the stuff he likes. Certainly can't be trusted to look at anything, cause he's got a damned pretty Pollack up there. Of course, that white text black blog design pretty well proves that he doesn't possess any aesthetic sense - if he isn't blind, he will be soon if he actually tries to read his blog....Pointer to that entertainment thanx to Robert Farley at Lawyers, Guns and Money.
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