Take it down
Denver's art-minded take a stand against public displays of bad art
Ann Hermes
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Students, critics, and philosophers have spent countless hours throughout history arguing just what it is that makes art, well, art. But perhaps the better question would be: What makes certain art bad? Decider posed this very question to Denver’s gallery elite and found out what they love to hate.
Ethnicity of the week
Today’s proclivity toward post-Communist Baltic art can quickly become yesterday’s love for Mexican camp. A lot of bad art slips in with the good when a certain culture becomes the darling of the gallery scene. "One of the big waves in art recently is Chinese art," says Ivar Ziele, owner of Plus Gallery. "It’s hard to lump it together and say I hate it in its entirety. I mean, there’s Chinese art that I love, but I do kind of hate the way it’s dominated the market. It’s suddenly this hot thing where everyone has to have it. Basically all that the art buyers [right now] are interested in is Chinese stuff."
Surrealist landscape painter Stuart C. Andrews agrees. "I hate that the upper-crust galleries are all the same," he says. "Right now, all of them have a Russian painter in his 20s. They all have this painter who paints just like this other painter. I hate that so many people sell art like that, that you just buy it, hang it, and forget it."
Pointless art
Does anyone truly express the secrets of their soul through macrame? Or rug-hooking? It’s easy to hate unpracticed art, but art that serves the sole purpose of keeping rehab patients occupied or camp kids busy has its own uniquely awful cache. "I hate tole painting on plaques," says Abecedarian Gallery owner Alicia Bailey. "If it’s on furniture or something, at least there’s a reason for it to exist. But if you’re just painting something like that on a plaque to be decorative, there’s no reason for it to exist beyond the self-indulgence of the person who made it."
Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Light
Thomas Kinkade’s hyper-marketed style of fuzzy faux-impressionism draws ire from art neophytes and experts alike, but he can’t be all that bad. After all, his website offers a generous frame discount for active and retired members of the U.S. military—so long as they buy a painting. "I hate him for the fact that he’s trademarked himself as the Painter of Light," says local photographer Sarah Haney. "I saw the ad for his NASCAR painting on TV and thought it was a joke. But even if I wanted to parody him, there’s no way to top it. You just can’t get close to that. It’s just that bad."
Ethnicity of the week
Today’s proclivity toward post-Communist Baltic art can quickly become yesterday’s love for Mexican camp. A lot of bad art slips in with the good when a certain culture becomes the darling of the gallery scene. "One of the big waves in art recently is Chinese art," says Ivar Ziele, owner of Plus Gallery. "It’s hard to lump it together and say I hate it in its entirety. I mean, there’s Chinese art that I love, but I do kind of hate the way it’s dominated the market. It’s suddenly this hot thing where everyone has to have it. Basically all that the art buyers [right now] are interested in is Chinese stuff."
Surrealist landscape painter Stuart C. Andrews agrees. "I hate that the upper-crust galleries are all the same," he says. "Right now, all of them have a Russian painter in his 20s. They all have this painter who paints just like this other painter. I hate that so many people sell art like that, that you just buy it, hang it, and forget it."
Pointless art
Does anyone truly express the secrets of their soul through macrame? Or rug-hooking? It’s easy to hate unpracticed art, but art that serves the sole purpose of keeping rehab patients occupied or camp kids busy has its own uniquely awful cache. "I hate tole painting on plaques," says Abecedarian Gallery owner Alicia Bailey. "If it’s on furniture or something, at least there’s a reason for it to exist. But if you’re just painting something like that on a plaque to be decorative, there’s no reason for it to exist beyond the self-indulgence of the person who made it."
Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Light
Thomas Kinkade’s hyper-marketed style of fuzzy faux-impressionism draws ire from art neophytes and experts alike, but he can’t be all that bad. After all, his website offers a generous frame discount for active and retired members of the U.S. military—so long as they buy a painting. "I hate him for the fact that he’s trademarked himself as the Painter of Light," says local photographer Sarah Haney. "I saw the ad for his NASCAR painting on TV and thought it was a joke. But even if I wanted to parody him, there’s no way to top it. You just can’t get close to that. It’s just that bad."
Stupid public art
Not only is bad public art annoying, it sucks knowing that tax dollars were used to install it. And it winds up becoming inextricably associated with the city it occupies. "Some of the public art in Denver is really bad," says local painter Michael Beneventi. "The dancing martians, the spring thing in front of the Wells Fargo Theater—it’s just placed in a way where the space doesn’t really work for the scale of the thing. And that demon horse thing by DIA. It doesn’t really say ‘Denver is a great city.’ It just says ‘Denver Broncos.’ Even the colors say that. But the greatest offense has got to be the buffalo down on the 16th Street Mall. They look like child art. I can’t imagine that anyone comes to Denver and sees those and thinks anything but ‘This is a really lame city.’"
Wankery
There is certainly a time and place for art that's made for its own sake. Unfortunately, though, like vanity plates and ten-minute guitar solos, pretentious art can get pretty tedious pretty fast. Local painter Doug Erion has a public narcissist number-one: dead-animal fetishist and critical lightning rod Damien Hirst. "I don’t hate [Hirst]," Erion says, "but I hate that his art is just a manipulation of the market, not creating anything other than shock value and financial value. I don’t think what he makes needs to be made."
Not only is bad public art annoying, it sucks knowing that tax dollars were used to install it. And it winds up becoming inextricably associated with the city it occupies. "Some of the public art in Denver is really bad," says local painter Michael Beneventi. "The dancing martians, the spring thing in front of the Wells Fargo Theater—it’s just placed in a way where the space doesn’t really work for the scale of the thing. And that demon horse thing by DIA. It doesn’t really say ‘Denver is a great city.’ It just says ‘Denver Broncos.’ Even the colors say that. But the greatest offense has got to be the buffalo down on the 16th Street Mall. They look like child art. I can’t imagine that anyone comes to Denver and sees those and thinks anything but ‘This is a really lame city.’"
Wankery
There is certainly a time and place for art that's made for its own sake. Unfortunately, though, like vanity plates and ten-minute guitar solos, pretentious art can get pretty tedious pretty fast. Local painter Doug Erion has a public narcissist number-one: dead-animal fetishist and critical lightning rod Damien Hirst. "I don’t hate [Hirst]," Erion says, "but I hate that his art is just a manipulation of the market, not creating anything other than shock value and financial value. I don’t think what he makes needs to be made."
"There seems to be a lot of art that's too important, that has no time to reach out, no time for humor or for that commonality that art should have," Andrews adds. "Everyone wants to think there’s this monastic tradition in art, this slick format that everything should use."
Amateur hour
Sure, everyone can make art. But should they? "I hate my sister’s art," Zeile says with a laugh. "When she was young, she took some painting classes and did these really awful landscapes. She never really pursued artistic training, but for some reason she still keeps these paintings hanging in her house. I just cringe every time I look at them. I think a lot of people who dabble in art should probably throw that kind of thing away."
"I definitely see a lot of art done by people who shouldn’t be doing it," Beneventi agrees. "All you have to do is go up and down Santa Fe Drive to see plenty of art where you look at it and think, ‘This person could use a little more practice.’"
Amateur hour
Sure, everyone can make art. But should they? "I hate my sister’s art," Zeile says with a laugh. "When she was young, she took some painting classes and did these really awful landscapes. She never really pursued artistic training, but for some reason she still keeps these paintings hanging in her house. I just cringe every time I look at them. I think a lot of people who dabble in art should probably throw that kind of thing away."
"I definitely see a lot of art done by people who shouldn’t be doing it," Beneventi agrees. "All you have to do is go up and down Santa Fe Drive to see plenty of art where you look at it and think, ‘This person could use a little more practice.’"
