Maybe I should have used a little more white...
Cy Twombly Can Kiss My Canvas!
In fact, EVERYBODY can!
Can't afford Twombly's $4 million blank canvas -- buy my $2 million one!
Careful, watch your step. I'm painting another masterpiece for your viewing pleasure.
Hmm, let's see now, I've got a white background... Suppose I paint a picture of Leda and the Swan on top of it... IN WHITE! HA HA!
I'm a genius, I tell you!
Well, listen, if Cy Twombly can get away with it (and charge $2 million for the all-white canvas that he cranked out) why can't I?! (Well, I'm sorry, but Twombly's canvas looked blank to me. Mind you, I haven't seen an optometrist for years, and even when I did, he was a bit of a blur. Still the Associated Press -- October 2007 -- says that the painting of which I speak is "all-white," and that's good enough -- or dare I say "all-white" -- by me!)
You've heard of Cy Twombly, right? He's the American artist that is suing the pantalons off of a Canadian woman for planting a kiss on a blank canvas that he had on view at his recent one-man show in Avignon.
You know: THE Cy Twombly. The abstract artist whose unique integration of drawing and painting resembles a kind of inspired scribbling?
Don't get me wrong, there's a place for abstract artists like Rauschenberg, Jasper Johns and this Twombly character: I believe they call it Bellvue, in fact.
No, seriously, seriously.
(Would you hand me that bottle of turpentine, by the way? I done made what we temperamental artists call "a booboo." Just look at that nose: Leda looks like the swan and vice versa! Of course, at the end of the day, no one will know if I mess up when I draw these figures, because the whole canvas will appear completely white when I'm done -- but then an artist has his principles, after all, and I couldn't live with myself if I were to fudge it on such an important work. I kid you not, I'd give myself notice right on the spot: "You, mister! Pack up and get out of my house! NOW!")
What's that? You're absolutely right: I'm being too severe on Twombly and his what shall we call it? abstract impressionism? (Let's see, what color should I paint these eyebrows.... Oh, I know: WHITE! Ha ha!)
Besides, I dig the oeuvre of some of his artistic cronies. Take Rauschenberg, for instance:
(More turpentine, please. It looks like I just accidentally gave the notoriously chaste Leda a very improbable hicky on her left shoulder!)
As for Jasper Johns, bless my sketch box:
True, I was slightly taken aback this past summer when I first saw that latter work close-up at the Hirshhorn Gallery in Washington, D.C. (I'm a trifle myopic, you see, and I had always assumed that the casts it featured were merely faces -- but trust me, upon closer inspection, at least one of those casts is very definitely NOT a face, thank you very much: not a face at ALL! Mercy on us! I mean, whoo-hoo with sugar on top! Ahem. What can I say, you museum goers have been warned.)
Still, I must take Twombly to task for painting this all-white canvas of his -- although I probably shouldn't definitively pan the work in question until I've had an eye exam.... One does want to be fair.
(Sorry to bother you again, but I'll need the turpentine one last time. Here I am absent-mindedly giving Zeus's beloved these wonderful sky-blue eyes, when I suddenly realize that I've gone completely outside of my "Johnny One-Note" palette!)
Of course, I'm just having a laugh at Cy's expense. I dig where he's coming from with his ironic commentaries on pop culture, especially now in the double-aughts, when his seemingly humble scribbles can be viewed as a metaphor for the lowly anti-star of today's reality television show, the John and Jane Nobody of prime-time, if you will (or is it the John and Jane Everybody, as in the Everyman?) whose very lack of notoriety becomes a selling point, always providing that the "nobody" in question is ready to tell the voyeuristic world in real-time and at a moment's notice (as if to stop on an emotional dime) everything they think, feel, fear, hate, love, regret, and desire. In the same way, Twombly's emphatically unprepossessing scribbles take center stage in today's prime-time art world, not for what they are in themselves but for how they are executed: i.e., with the same self-centered and ultimately scheming vehemence as that betrayed by those new no-name stars on television, about whom we find ourselves caring (or at least obsessing), as it were, in spite of ourselves.
How's that? No, I could not possibly repeat that last statement of mine. But I'll tell you one thing -- it's my point of view, thank you very much, and I didn't cut-and-paste it out of no Wiki Bloody Pedia, either! Humph!
By the way, I finished my painting during that seemingly interminable harangue of mine. (By golly, I was on a roll. Now if what I said only made at least a little sense. Ha ha. Ahem.)
What do you think? Doesn't it look just like Leda and the Swan?
Take your love of Impressionism on the road with this portable art lesson for tailgaters.
Give those plebeian tailgaters a mini art lesson with this Monet bumper stick designed by quass.com webmaster Brian Quass
Cy Egghead here, folks. You remember me. I'm that big important artist who's charging $4 million for a blank canvas with his name on it. Well, today is your lucky day, folks! For a limited time only, I'll be letting the masterpiece go for a mere 40 bucks! But hurry, these low prices can't last forever! Delay at your own risk! Price could return to a firm $4 million at any time without notice!
And what's more, I'm going to actually ASK for people to kiss the thing! you know, just to show the world that I'm an "artist of the people," thank you kindly, unlike some people around here named Cy that I know! Of course, there may be some sanitary issues that have to be sorted first (no doubt we'll have to disinfect the canvas after every unique instance of adulatory osculation) but if we work out a logical queuing system, we could probably get over a hundred unique sets of lip prints per day -- resulting in a work that I can subsequently entitle.... let's see now....
"Kiss Me, Kate"?
No.
"A Kiss in Time Saves Nine."
Nah.
How about "Practice Board for Georgie Porgie Puddin' Pie"?
Oh, fiddlesticks: I'll just call it Untitled like my other works -- that way at least I get the satisfaction of knowing that I'll still be giving art historians and archivists a real headache for years to come, long after I've finally gone to that big artist's garret in the sky!
Hmm, let's see now, I've got a white background... Suppose I paint a picture of Leda and the Swan on top of it... IN WHITE! HA HA!
I'm a genius, I tell you!
Well, listen, if Cy Twombly can get away with it (and charge $2 million for the all-white canvas that he cranked out) why can't I?! (Well, I'm sorry, but Twombly's canvas looked blank to me. Mind you, I haven't seen an optometrist for years, and even when I did, he was a bit of a blur. Still the Associated Press -- October 2007 -- says that the painting of which I speak is "all-white," and that's good enough -- or dare I say "all-white" -- by me!)
You've heard of Cy Twombly, right? He's the American artist that is suing the pantalons off of a Canadian woman for planting a kiss on a blank canvas that he had on view at his recent one-man show in Avignon.
You know: THE Cy Twombly. The abstract artist whose unique integration of drawing and painting resembles a kind of inspired scribbling?
Don't get me wrong, there's a place for abstract artists like Rauschenberg, Jasper Johns and this Twombly character: I believe they call it Bellvue, in fact.
No, seriously, seriously.
(Would you hand me that bottle of turpentine, by the way? I done made what we temperamental artists call "a booboo." Just look at that nose: Leda looks like the swan and vice versa! Of course, at the end of the day, no one will know if I mess up when I draw these figures, because the whole canvas will appear completely white when I'm done -- but then an artist has his principles, after all, and I couldn't live with myself if I were to fudge it on such an important work. I kid you not, I'd give myself notice right on the spot: "You, mister! Pack up and get out of my house! NOW!")
What's that? You're absolutely right: I'm being too severe on Twombly and his what shall we call it? abstract impressionism? (Let's see, what color should I paint these eyebrows.... Oh, I know: WHITE! Ha ha!)
Besides, I dig the oeuvre of some of his artistic cronies. Take Rauschenberg, for instance:
-- I love his 1995 Untitled collage with the Rooster and the naked lady (hello!)
-- I love his Retroactive 2 deal with JFK and the astronaut (cue "Memories" by Barbra Streisand)
-- I even love that mixed-media Monogram deal with that shaggy Angora Goat popping its antler-laden head out of that rubber tire. (Hey, dude! What's a good-looking mammal like YOU doing in a so-called work of art like this?! I hope they got your permission before decking you out like that!)
(More turpentine, please. It looks like I just accidentally gave the notoriously chaste Leda a very improbable hicky on her left shoulder!)
As for Jasper Johns, bless my sketch box:
-- I love that "aggressively autumnal" False Start of his from 2003.
-- I love his Colored Alphabet from 1959, which spells artistic relief, or my name isn't Sammy Picasso Fuddweiler III.
-- I love (nay, EVERYONE loves) his American Flag and that trademark Target of his, especially the one with the nine plaster casts on top.
True, I was slightly taken aback this past summer when I first saw that latter work close-up at the Hirshhorn Gallery in Washington, D.C. (I'm a trifle myopic, you see, and I had always assumed that the casts it featured were merely faces -- but trust me, upon closer inspection, at least one of those casts is very definitely NOT a face, thank you very much: not a face at ALL! Mercy on us! I mean, whoo-hoo with sugar on top! Ahem. What can I say, you museum goers have been warned.)
Still, I must take Twombly to task for painting this all-white canvas of his -- although I probably shouldn't definitively pan the work in question until I've had an eye exam.... One does want to be fair.
(Sorry to bother you again, but I'll need the turpentine one last time. Here I am absent-mindedly giving Zeus's beloved these wonderful sky-blue eyes, when I suddenly realize that I've gone completely outside of my "Johnny One-Note" palette!)
Of course, I'm just having a laugh at Cy's expense. I dig where he's coming from with his ironic commentaries on pop culture, especially now in the double-aughts, when his seemingly humble scribbles can be viewed as a metaphor for the lowly anti-star of today's reality television show, the John and Jane Nobody of prime-time, if you will (or is it the John and Jane Everybody, as in the Everyman?) whose very lack of notoriety becomes a selling point, always providing that the "nobody" in question is ready to tell the voyeuristic world in real-time and at a moment's notice (as if to stop on an emotional dime) everything they think, feel, fear, hate, love, regret, and desire. In the same way, Twombly's emphatically unprepossessing scribbles take center stage in today's prime-time art world, not for what they are in themselves but for how they are executed: i.e., with the same self-centered and ultimately scheming vehemence as that betrayed by those new no-name stars on television, about whom we find ourselves caring (or at least obsessing), as it were, in spite of ourselves.
How's that? No, I could not possibly repeat that last statement of mine. But I'll tell you one thing -- it's my point of view, thank you very much, and I didn't cut-and-paste it out of no Wiki Bloody Pedia, either! Humph!
By the way, I finished my painting during that seemingly interminable harangue of mine. (By golly, I was on a roll. Now if what I said only made at least a little sense. Ha ha. Ahem.)
What do you think? Doesn't it look just like Leda and the Swan?
Take your love of Impressionism on the road with this portable art lesson for tailgaters.
Give those plebeian tailgaters a mini art lesson with this Monet bumper stick designed by quass.com webmaster Brian Quass
Come again? No, of course you don't actually SEE Leda and the Swan -- that's the whole point. (Jeepers. Forgive me, but you obviously understand very little about art, my friend. Dear, dear.)
But now how much shall I charge for this new masterpiece of mine. Hmm. Twombly felt that HIS white canvas was worth $2 million, and since I'm convinced that I'm at least twice as good an artist as he is (Sorry, Cy, but I was raised to like myself very much, indeed!), I fancy I'll ask for $4 million.
Cy Egghead here, folks. You remember me. I'm that big important artist who's charging $4 million for a blank canvas with his name on it. Well, today is your lucky day, folks! For a limited time only, I'll be letting the masterpiece go for a mere 40 bucks! But hurry, these low prices can't last forever! Delay at your own risk! Price could return to a firm $4 million at any time without notice!
And what's more, I'm going to actually ASK for people to kiss the thing! you know, just to show the world that I'm an "artist of the people," thank you kindly, unlike some people around here named Cy that I know! Of course, there may be some sanitary issues that have to be sorted first (no doubt we'll have to disinfect the canvas after every unique instance of adulatory osculation) but if we work out a logical queuing system, we could probably get over a hundred unique sets of lip prints per day -- resulting in a work that I can subsequently entitle.... let's see now....
"Kiss Me, Kate"?
No.
"A Kiss in Time Saves Nine."
Nah.
How about "Practice Board for Georgie Porgie Puddin' Pie"?
Oh, fiddlesticks: I'll just call it Untitled like my other works -- that way at least I get the satisfaction of knowing that I'll still be giving art historians and archivists a real headache for years to come, long after I've finally gone to that big artist's garret in the sky!
c.2010 Brian Quass, Alexandria, VA USA