I just finished Rich Texts: Selected Writing for Art, by John Kelsey, member of Bernadette Corporation, and a leading founder of the popular New York City gallery, Reena Spaulings. I was recommended the book by a friend of mine who is a young artist in New York City, and graduated art school in 2017.
It is important to note that the essays, reviews, catalogues, etc. in this book were all published independent from each other, and now come together in the hopes of forming a cohesive criticism. Kelsey remarks on this, saying that the texts "remain blind and indifferent to the package that contains them now" (7). Keeping this in mind throughout the book allows a reader to understand the scope of artistic thought that Kelsey is able to speak to, but also how he is more familiar with certain modes of working than other. It would be very fair to argue that John Kelsey is more concise and directive with his words when he is speaking about contemporary painting, then when he is speaking about film. But this conclusion doesn't aim to put one above the other, rather it points at that a certain medium requires a certain set of words and pontifications, because the people that consume it, and the theory that drives it, exists in a realm that is fueled by itself. This difference in the way he chooses to write about certain topics versus others remains an interest to me, and I have not reached a conclusion about it yet.
The book begins with an essay that is ideologically thick, and aligns more with poetry than any other literary genre. Speaking about Wade Guyton's black paintings, Kelsey notes that "the canvases on view are not so much finished, final things as they are a series of interrupted movements. These are abstractions torn from and at the same time irretrievably lodged in a condition of productive mobilization. And in its interruption, 'painting,' too, is put at a strange, fresh distance" (19). Conclusions like this run rampant throughout the book, and speak to a highly specialized audience. While Wade Guyton is a very popular figure in the art world, he is also just that, a person that exists only in the mind of an artist. This is more of an observation than a limit, but it's something that I think is important to have in the back of your mind when reading Rich Texts.
Starting the book with an analysis on the meaning of black in Wade Guyton's paintings acts as a good synopsis of who John Kelsey is, and I only really undertsand who he is through the people he surrounds himself with, and what they do for him. "Rich Texts" speaks to a specific scene of artists that congregate in New York City, but also exist elsewhere. I wouldn't call these artists "underground," "indie," or "transgressive." Rather, they are just a little more grounded and purposeful than other artists. Among other things (mostly social), this situates their writing, visual art, and general thinking in a sphere that is applicable to human experience, but still might not be understood adequately by people outside of the art world. A slippery, but entertaining slope of relatability and banality is where the artwork described in "Rich Texts" fall, and continue to exist within.
Bernadette Corporation, an artist collective that Kelsey is a part of, speaks to the political quality of this grouping of art, as well as the necessity for reflection that separates this specific scene from the rest of New York City. Fighting against branding of an artistic practice, and the general desire for a easily digestible individual creating predictable, digestible paintings, BC is a manifestation of what the art world would be like if there was so much disinterest in market that it made them care about nothing else besides creating. Their epic poem, alongside their film Get Rid of Yourself ,presents ideas that prioritize time, collaboration, and appropriation, altogether creating viewing experiences that are intrinsically artistic, and also human. The work of BC isn't doctored to be placeable within an art world context, rather the goals and objectives of the group are most effectively answered through art-making, therefore generating work that oftentimes cannot be appreciated by non-artists. A lot of people get singled out and isolated from understanding and appreciating the work that falls adjacent to BC, and the writing of John Kelsey, but it is also important to understand that the smaller the crowd of relatability becomes, the more powerful the impact of the work is. This is due to a higher importance that the work plays in the lives of the people who do understand it. Fans of universality might hate this, but I think you just have to be okay with it.
There is a time and place for these essays to make impact. That time may be the second time you read it, and it may be someone's first encounter with the first essay. Regardless, Rich Texts is a series of essays that is catered to a highly specific crowd, and has the capability to mobilize this crowd towards the creation of work that progresses the field of art. It takes an art-school student and gives them new ideas, while also taking a math student and making them utterly confused. It is this comparison that makes writing like this even more important and necessary.
My favorite essay in Rich Texts was Stop Painting Paintings, a piece from 2005 about the paintings of Michael Krebber. A few reasons why this essay appealed to me was the relatability of the working habits of Krebber, the cynicism towards New-York-City-art-world-culture, and the generation of interest in a painter that is new to me. Alongside all of these points, Kelsey writes in a way that flows to and from the mind of Michael Krebber and the presentation of his work, creating language that occupies a liminal space between creation and criticism. This is what draws me in to even care at all about the work described in the essay. Kelsey is able to give a seemingly secretive view into the machinations of a mythical artist, and therefore make his otherwise transgressive and timid paintings seem extremely familiar to me.
This familiarity is most topical when Kelsey speaks to Krebber's "vampirism," saying that he "makes the condition of being stuck a key operating principle. He is a 'user' - primarily of everything that freezes and stops him" (193). This framing of "vampiric" tendencies is exactly how I feel about my own studio practice. I see a painter I like, I track their lineage, and then I just use paint how I think they use paint in the compressed jpeg files of their comically large work. But, in the culture of art school, I try and reframe this utilization as some sort of "research" or "exploration." Kelsey's focus on Krebber allows me to lean into this appropriation for exactly what it is. This important takeaway also speaks back to the lack of universality in the text, but the simultaneously heightened importance to those who can relate.
Krebber is also just a great painter that is oftentimes misunderstood due to his aloofness and mysticality. Kelsey activates this aspect of his work through his writing, and allows it to shine through as important and meaningful, rather than easily dismissive.
I am a fan of the way John Kelsey makes you look at and think about art.
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