Skip to main content

On the horrible artistic taste of the filthy rich

I was in St. Augustine, Florida, last weekend, a beautiful little town on the north-eastern cost of the state. Its main claims to fame are the fortress and other buildings dating back to the mid-1500s -- quite unusual for the USA, obviously -- and the grand palaces built by several late nineteenth century robber barons such as Henry Flagler and Otto Lightner. The later buildings are impressive, actually. What turned my stomach was to see the things that Mr. Lightner put in the museum built to house his personal collection of loot. Lightner founded Hobbies magazine or some such, and the various bits of Victorian sculpture, crockery, and Pears Soap Advertisement oil paintings were clearly put together by that sort of character: the one who gets a certain reassurance by poring through catalogues of things, and feels that he has broadened his personality when he has noted down all the numbers of one particular type of train. In other words, most of the Lightner Museum's collection was hideous. It just proves the age-old truth: all the money in the world can't buy you good taste.

'The Favourite of the Harem', Leon Comerre: Herr Lightner found
works by this 19th c. French hack particularly alluring.
UPDATE: Some people have emailed me to say that this post reflected harshly on St. Augustine. Let me correct that impression by saying that even though I was only there for three days, it was one of the best places I've been to in the USA. And because of the travel writing that Patty does, I've been to 34 of the States in the last 7 years, so I'm comparing it to a LOT of cities. Patty and I were discussing what it is that attracted us to St. Augustine, and a large part of it is the Spanish history, and the contemporary Latino (perhaps Cubano-American) influence. Patty has lived and travelled extensively in Latin America, and I have a lot of connections with Spain, so whenever we find cities in the USA that are enriched by this, we identify very strongly with them. This is why the current anti-Latino bigotry exhibited by the Angry Old White Republican Voters in this country both infuriates and saddens us -- not just because we have lived in those cultures, but because the AOWRVs seem not to realise that this is what makes the fabric and texture of society in the USA so interesting.

 Subscribe to Praeterita in a reader
Labels:

Popular posts from this blog

Restoring my Printing Press

I've just finished restoring and assembling my large etching press -- a six week process involving lots of rust removal, scrubbing with steel wool, and repainting. Here is a photo of the same kind of press from the Chicago Printmakers Collaborative: And here is a short YouTube video of me testing the press, making sure the motor still works after nearly seven years of lying in storage:
Click here to read more

Brancusi in Plastic

Artist Mary Ellen Croteau is showing these columns made from recycled plastic cartons and lids in the window of the Columbia College bookstore on Michigan Avenue. They are a playful homage to Brancusi's "Endless Columns", with a serious environmental message for our times: Image copyright Inhabitat.com and Mary Ellen Croteau Mary Ellen also runs a wonderful experimental art gallery in a window space in west Chicago, called Art on Armitage . I will be exhibiting a mixed media piece there during August 2012.
Click here to read more

How to etch a linoleum block

Linoleum as a material for printmaking has been used for nearly a hundred years now. Normally, you cut an image out using special gouges similar to woodcut tools, cutting away the lino around the image you want to print. This is called relief printmaking, because if you look at the block from the side, the material that remains stands up in relief from the backing material. You then roll ink with a brayer over the surface of the block, place paper over it, and either print by hand or run it through a press. You can do complex things this way (for example, reduction linocuts), but the beauty of the process is that it is quick, simple, and direct. Incised lino block, from me.redith.com Etched lino block, from Steve Edwards A few years ago, I saw some prints that were classified as coming from etched linoleum blocks, and I loved the textures I saw in them. In the last few months, I've been trying to use this technique in my own studio, learning about it as one does these d
Click here to read more