Future schlock
By Hamish Coney,
An old fogey looks at the work of today’s yoof
[Art]
The recent furore over the decision to accept TXT-speak in school exams raises the topical question of the quality of the education our little treasures are receiving. I found myself in the stunned old-fogey camp contemplating a future described by the mangled inanities of the l33t lingo. It’s another example of the next generation asserting their value system on a highly diffident world. It appears we’re going to hell in a binge-drinking, MySpaced, YouTubed, TXT-bullying handcart.
In conversation with employers of the future leaders of our great nation I have detected a clear strain of frustration. Our not-so-little darlings are fully briefed on their rights and entitlements but tend to fall down in the areas headed ‘turning up’ and ‘basic literacy’.
Some employers have resorted to holding their own literacy training, so the staff don’t electrocute themselves while mastering the intricacies of instructions such as ‘don’t touch’.
In the art world, similar mutterings have been swirling around for a few years now. Art graduates are able to spout all sorts of artspeak but avoid acquiring traditional skills, like drawing and painting, like the plague. A visit to Payless Plastics to source the raw materials for the next groan-making installation on the perils of consumerism has become the default house style for art school graduates since the year 2000.
The funny thing, though, is that in an age when downloaded essays and coursework mean students can scam a pass, the fine art student still has to actually do some work. You know: make something, even if it is a rice arrangement or magnets playing silly buggers in an ice cream container.
“The funny thing, though, is that in an age when downloaded essays and coursework mean students can scam a pass, the fine art student still has to actually do some work. You know: make something, even if it is a rice arrangement or magnets playing silly buggers in an ice cream container.”
Every year I visit the annual degree show exhibitions at our major art education institutions. I approach these with an equal mix of anticipation and trepidation. Every so often it is possible to see a singular talent on the launchpad ready for takeoff.
Unfortunately, what’s usually on offer is a deflating mix of middle-class kids claiming outsider status and floor after floor of the dreaded ‘P’. Not the drug, mercifully, but something far worse: plagiarism. Nothing is more depressing than the sight of dozens of bright young things earnestly proclaiming their unique vision with outright copies of the current hip art du jour.
A couple of years ago the long-suffering art fan had to wade through Ricky Swallow (Australia’s art superstar) clones. Last year Wallace award winner Rohan Wealleans experienced the ‘homage’ treatment. Now it’s 2006 Walters Prize winner Francis Upritchard’s turn to be emulated.
But this year two thoughts struck me and I had a complete retake on the young artists’ wares offered up to my withering, old-fogey gaze. First, unlike just about every other discipline, our young art folk actually have to put themselves out there, just like in the real world.
A law graduate doesn’t have to prosecute an embezzler in public to achieve an A+. A freshly minted doctor doesn’t have to perform open-heart surgery, or even clean a child’s waxy ear, to pass with honours.
And every other graduate from our halls of academia emerges after three or four (or seven) years with the expectation of getting a job. Indeed, that is the stated purpose of the tertiary education system and the goal of every bushy-tailed graduate.
But not your fine arts graduates. After six years of hard work, this year’s graduating MFA students have no ready-made jobs or trainee schemes to leap into. There is not much of a career ladder for an artist. Just living on your wits, hoping the world will take some notice. It’s a hell of a career choice.
This year another generation of courageous young New Zealanders, some strikingly original, others still a work in progress, displayed their best efforts for the merciless judgment of punters like me.
To use an agricultural metaphor, 2006 is a bumper crop with a group of talented, committed young artists ready to take on the world. Here are a few names to look out for in the years to come: Daniel Arps, Ji Ah Lee, Jill McIntosh, Joanna Wright, Megan Hansen-Knarhoi, Rebecca Steedman, Richard Orjis, Tessa Laird and Timothy Thatcher. U red it hEr 1st.
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