{"id":57332,"date":"2023-06-12T10:03:50","date_gmt":"2023-06-12T14:03:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/?p=57332"},"modified":"2023-06-16T08:52:02","modified_gmt":"2023-06-16T12:52:02","slug":"the-artists-virtual-junk-stall-is-open-all-hours","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/2023\/06\/the-artists-virtual-junk-stall-is-open-all-hours.html","title":{"rendered":"<em>&#8216;The artist\u2019s virtual junk stall is open all hours . . .&#8217;<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<pre class=\"wp-block-preformatted\"><\/pre>\n\n\n\n<h3 class=\"wp-block-heading\">A poem for the ages by <a href=\"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/2023\/05\/jay-jeff-jones-such-a-fine-and-true-poet-rip.html\">Jay Jeff Jones (1946-2023)<\/a><\/h3>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\"><strong>\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0<\/strong> <strong>\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0<\/strong> <strong>\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0<\/strong> <strong>\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0<\/strong> <strong>\u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0 \u00b0<\/strong> <strong>\u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0&nbsp;\u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0 \u00b0<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><font size=\"+2\"><strong>ET IN BOHEMIA EGO<\/strong><\/font> <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em><strong>\u201cHe liked paintings that his guests did not know how to look at.\u201d<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\"><strong>We\u2019ve seen this type before, claiming\nthe Universe has his private number, \ncalling him up at any hour, something else \nputting those creepy ideas in his head.&nbsp;\nPerhaps that\u2019s why his efforts\nhave the whiff of botched miracles\nand half-practiced party tricks,\nJaws in a Box, hunger\u2019s trajectory\ncaught in glass and sold down the river,\na miserable, soul-eating ghost\nrendered to coffee table novelty,\nas cute as a scorpion drowned in Lucite.<\/strong>\n\n<strong>From the Virgin to Vanitas to Verity,\nhe has the knack of giving art\u2019s perpetual themes \nthe tacky, replica look you\u2019d find in Vegas\nand in a more existential mood,\nnuminously confronts our mortal illusions\nwith his fly-breeding bestiary, vivisected giant dolls \nor a memento cupido,\nDeath not triumphant but abstracted by hype\nand blistered in bling, the crystal pustules\nof human misery,\na customary garnish of tyrants\nand media sluts.<\/strong><\/pre>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\"><strong>Cut from the same clown-suit cloth\nas Joe Messiahs, madcap artists\nare the stuff of fable, tribal lore, mawkish hymns,\nrabid scripture and other tragic clich\u00e9s\nof payback time; for storming Olympus,                                                                                                       stealing fire, the chariot, mother\u2019s credit card;                                                                                         formulaic operas of retribution,\nwith pratfalls all the way to rehab\nand pretentious arty cant that is\nthe gift of the gods to tabloids. \n\nThen it\u2019s fraud, conman, <em>hoaxster thief,<\/em>\nthe jeers of the squares, fogies and philistines;\nall those schmucks that can\u2019t see the joke.\nDown the Groucho, it\u2019s a round for the house\nand the artist keeps having the last laugh;\nmore Michael Jackson than Modigliani,\nan idea-jacking, joyless rider, who gets no kicks                                                                                                and cuts no trail, a toy-town Steptoe\nwhose muse keeps coming up short,\nspinning action altarpieces for Burger King\nthat conjure no dreamy universes like <em>One, 1950 <\/em>\nor a bunko show, death camp for butterflies,\nto flog butterfly print deckchairs, butterfly teapots                                                                                           and pots of butterfly marmalade\nto the culturati carriage trade. \n\nThe artist\u2019s virtual junk stall is open all hours                                                                                                         so the fabulously rich can find art\u2019s relief                                                                                                             from ennui and the furious itch of wealth                                                                                                              that has learned to virally reproduce.                                                                                                                Surely, this much money must know what it is doing?                                                                                           It clearly did in Venice, where capitalism was born;                                                                                           and conspicuous consumption\ndemanded Bellinis and Titians.                                                                                                                                Now it\u2019s beguiled by splodges and spots and gauds.                                                                                   Nothing that\u2019s difficult anymore                                                                                                                                like art\u2019s real dirty work,\nthe most gruelling atavistic forensics                                                                                                                        or wiping narcissism\u2019s smirk\nwith a sheet of flame. <\/strong>\n\n<em>David Sylvester \u2013 \u201cAt what age did you realise that death was going to happen to you too?\u201d \n\nFrancis Bacon \u2013 \u201cI realised when I was seventeen...I remember looking at a dog-shit on the pavement and I suddenly realised, there it is...this is what life is like.\u201d <\/em>\n<em>\n<\/em><font size=\"+2\"><em><strong>Jay Jeff Jones<\/strong><\/em><\/font> \n\n<\/pre>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\"><\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>ET IN BOHEMIA EGO \u2014 A poem for the ages by Jay Jeff Jones (1946-2023).<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":29797,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[26,18,4,23,17],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-57332","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-books","8":"category-literature","9":"category-main","10":"category-news","11":"category-political-culture","12":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/Moors-behind-Jays-house-560enh-1.jpg","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbvgEs-eUI","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/57332","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=57332"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/57332\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":57395,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/57332\/revisions\/57395"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/29797"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=57332"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=57332"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=57332"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}