It really gets to me when art critics, particularly those with large reputations, write such careless and callous reviews of major artists of the past. It often feels that their whole intention is to diminish the hard won accomplishments by reducing the work to some kind of psychopathology, entirely ignoring the work itself in favor of sloppy psychobabble. I’ve made a short comment after Feaver’s review to point out a few of the glaring misstatements. I don’t want to belabor it because I don’t have the time.
My sense always is that these critics only become critics for the most part when they can pick apart the work of the greatest artists humanity has ever seen. When it comes to the shabbiest art ever produced by the human race, that of Koons, Hirst, Emin et al they by and large slobber all over it. Or they don’t say a word.
Money rules. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Critics fail completely at their task of providing even the most rudimentary standards for Contemporary Art, but have no trouble showing every single blemish and wart on artists whose many problems stemmed mainly from poverty and the neglect of society.
It stinks. I’m fed up with it.