Music is art, too. This thread has inspired me to write a piece for balaika and banjo that I call “Duelling Douchebags.”
None of you highbrows like Harry Potter, do you? Oh, of course not.
Most fans of this guy probably just think his shit is pleasant to look at, which it basically is, rather than “it’s ART that must be recognized”. Perfect for the dentist’s office. I’ve got to agree with askeptic that this poo-poohing and nose-sniffing is pretty fucking pathetic. No doubt, it’s corny, but there’s always a market for the feel good bullshit. Don’t you have a better way to feel superior to Joe Average?
And aren’t these houses just English cottages? Building houses to look like his paintings won’t require much of Kinkade’s input, IMHO. Just a marketting ploy by the developers.
Kinkade is someone who fortunately has been outside the edge of my awareness. But his website truly is hilarious in the depth of its schlockiness. The verbiage there gives the paintings a run for the money in pure crassness:
It wouldn’t be so bothersome if he wasn’t such a smug self-congradulatory little prick. He’s the one walking around claiming he is on the level with Picasso. He’s the one blabbering about how his sweatshop produced paintings are an actual gift from God and how it’s really Jesus that moves his (or, more accurately, his paint-slaves’s) paint brush. Then he goes around molesting women (who “want” to be molested according to him, because he is like a god to them) and pissing on Mickey Mouse.
And yeah, I do resent him fleecing countless people in to thinking his mass produced “paintings” (where he contributes only the signature) are a worthwhile investment. Countless little old ladies have a trumped-up poster hanging on their wall that they think is going to be worth thousands one day. Asshole.
What sven said is a critcism I can understand. It is of Kincade, not the people that like his schlock.
Personally, I’d like to have a well-weathered, ramshackle cabin like the ones in Bob Ross’ paintings. You an’ me’ll go hide there after we beat the devil out of some happy lil’ trees.
I don’t think it’s a comical notion at all. Aesthetic judgements are subjective. What makes you think otherwise?
Actually, I’d prefer the velvet Elvis (though the velvet Kenny Rogers is just an abomination).
I doubt that many of the little old ladies who buy his stuff at flea markets are aware of his inflated ego. I would imagine they simply enjoy the sugary sweetness of the scenes. More power to them. They also probably make pinapple upside down cakes in a bundt pan. Not my bag, but I’m not going to rag on them. To me, his stuff is clearly “little old lady art.” I’m not a little old lady. They are.
Now, a Kinkaide print left out in a shed, with a big water stain on it, no frame and damaged edges, with a smushed spider near the top right corner… THAT’S art!
More careful reading required here. Excalibre’s point was that not ALL aesthetic judgements are COMPLETELY subjective, which I think is a perfectly fair statement (see my above post).
Me, I love 'em. Love 'em. As in, wait-in-line-at-midnight-at-the-bookstore-on-Harry-Potter-Day-to-buy-the-new-one love 'em.
However, if somebody happens to mention that the literary qualities of J. K. Rowling’s writing are in many respects inferior to those of, say, Iris Murdoch, I don’t get my panties in a twist about that perfectly reasonable and justifiable statement. I don’t accuse that person of being a highbrow snob who’s trying to force their own idiosyncratic subjective aesthetic judgements on everybody else.
Because I recognize that there are some generally accepted criteria for evaluating works of art, and that SOME aesthetic judgements can be reasonably described as generally true, rather than just being matters of individual taste and preference.
Right. And he calls himself “Painter of Light.” What the fuck else is he going to be a painter of? Radio waves? Shit, even though I’m a rank amateur, I’m a Painter of Light myself. When I’m not busy being a Musician of Sound. Or a Chef of Food.
And really, I have no truck with people that like bad art. If they want to spend their hard-earned money on trash, it’s no skin off my back. But if they exhalt a guy who produces the canvas equivelant of out-of-tune elevator music, sure, I’ll point and laugh. If that makes me a snob then great, I’m a snob and proud of it.
I think you have the wrong impression. They don’t get Kinkade prints at yard sales. They go to ridiculously-hyped “Galleries of Light” and pay, sometimes, many thousands of dollars for his mass-produced, self-promoted schlock.
And if people know what a scummy, pandering cheeseball crook he is, and still give him money, then hell yes, I blame them for being idiots and having execrable taste to boot.
The man’s the Jerry Falwell of the commercialized art world. Talented at self-promotion, and not terribly weighed down with scruples.
Two things in the art world irritate me.
1 - When I’m told I have to like something.
2 - When I’m told I have to hate something.
Just irritation, mind you. Not busting veins over either one.
On of my favorite vacation spots is known for being an art community. Every other store in this lovely village is an art gallery. And there’s some wonderful stuff there, as well as a little shlock. But an ugly shitstain on this town is a Kinkade Gallery of Dark.
But I must say, I did see one painting in the window last year that I absolutely adored. I fell in love with it. By far, Kinkade’s most brilliant and edgy work. I think the title was “Going out of business – Everything must go.”
This makes sense, and I understand why people might find these things distasteful. Especially the molestation. But none of this has anything to do with the work itself. The unreasonable, over-the-top hatred for Kincade’s paintings seems to have more to do with people wanting to feel superior than with any objective judgement of aesthetics.
Also, lots of eminently well-respected artists have been horrible bastards. They seem to get away with it because they’re not hacks, while Kincade supposedly is. So I don’t think the hatred for Kincade’s work stems entirely from the kind of guy he is either.
Of course not. The vapid mediocrity of his “work” stands on its own.
To pull out the old, hackneyed phrase, if you don’t like it, don’t buy it. Vote with your wallet, etc. etc.
(How about the “Dogs Playing Poker”, Tucker? 
)
There’s nothing wrong with liking art that isn’t “serious” or critically acclaimed. (Hell, there’s science-fiction art I like, if you want to point and laugh at me.) That’s not the issue with Kinkaide. AFAICT, Kinkaide isn’t any worse than a lot of art you can buy at mall sales or see in motels. The problem with kinkaide isn’t his art, it’s his sanctimonious marketing, his hypocritical “christian” BS, his delusions of grandeur, the fact that he doesn’t even paint his own paintings, and the depressing fact that there are a lot of Americans stupid enough to buy his con hook, line, and sinker.
If you like mall art, then by all means buy mall art. It doesn’t make you a bad person any more than buying “serious” art makes you a good person. But you can get art just as good as that assembled by Kinkaide’s factory for a lot less.
But even better is that if you go to local art festivals or are involved in your local art community, you can probably find far better works for considerably less money than Kinkade’s crap. I wonder how much this McDonald’s-style “art” marketing affects smaller, more talented artists.
I find the desire to express an opinion about the opinion of someone you don’t know about an unspecified work of art by some artist you like (or dislike) to be a humorous and feeble attempt at elitism. The details of opinions are irrelevant to this point, and matter only to elitists, or perhaps pseudoelitists.
Someone asked me if I felt that my photography was art. I told them that I think there is a good way for anyone to decide if a particular image is art. Look at it for a minute. If you still want to look at it after that it’s art. If you like it, it’s good art. If you hate it, it’s probably good art. If you don’t have an opinion, it’s unimportant art. Your opinions are entirely authoritative, for you.
Tris