Friday, April 23, 2004

Singing Butler by Jack Vettriano This is the kind of review that gets written, when elitists write the reviews.

Popularity doesn't always mean bad.

But when the critics and high art curators ignore an artist (as they have with this British self-taught ex-miner) and yet that artist nonetheless becomes famous, and rich, and then strikes huge auctions prizes at Sotheby's in the world of high art - the critics (now proven wrong by their own standards) have to spout theory and ignorance to desperately attempt to prove that they are still right.

Comparing Vettriano to Damien Hirst or Tracey Emin is perhaps the stupidest comparison that I have ever read and shows breathtaking ignorance of the power of the Saatchi PR machine to "create" those artists as opposed to a poor ex-miner from Scotland rising through the maze of modern art, while being ignored by the arts establishment, to become the best-selling artist in the world and now a secondary art market name to reckon with!

And so what if his paintintgs are overtly sexual, or overtly romantic, or overtly fill-in-the-blank.... perhaps he's been painted into a corner because there's no irony in his works, but just the honest brush of a working class, smoking, womanizer, hard drinking Scot who could give a fuck as to what an art critic thinks about his paintings.

By the way... the Vettriano painting that sold at Sotheby's for £744,800 (that's over $1.5 million) was sold by the artist in 1991 for a mere £3,000!

But don't cry for Jack, as apparently, the royalties from all the posters and postcards and other crap made from the painting earn him about half a million dollars a year!

Keep them cooking Jack!

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