‘It either gets to you or not’. ‘It has to tell you what when why the moment you see it’. ‘ It makes you feel scared/happy/aroused/etc.’
Opinions about crypto art and artsy NFTs are generated in equal proportion with the starlet painters and self-taught Instagram illustrators. In the age of the attention economy, getting to the bottom of things is getting harder, but this is the only way to cut through the noise of mediocre NFT art.
Not so fast, comrade.
Building up awareness and taste can take years. I got exposed to the world of art professionally while in design school but started going to art shows and pop-ups way before. And to tell you the truth, the first couple of years were mostly a blur of the greyish industrial palette with lots of nudity and decadent statements. It looked as if the artistic expression just had to be weird, or at least melancholic, which doesn’t speak to absolutely everyone.
Takashi Murakami. Under the Radiation Falls. GARAGE MCA, 2017.
This is exactly why modern art at some point turned into a euphemism for a swear word. Of course, only for those who didn’t bother to notice the details and stories behind the art pieces. Take, for instance, Takashi Murakami’s ‘Under the Radiation Falls’. Seemingly cheerful, set in flamboyant pastel colors, the series actually portrays the death and suffering of Chornobyl’s victims. I keep referring to this piece, as it’s a classic example of how brilliantly the artist is using juxtaposition to first draw us in and then twist our hearts around by eliciting a completely opposite feeling.
To me, it’s all about how an art piece makes me feel. Apart from the technical side of strokes and color scheme, which are always more or less doable. It is that transient moment when you feel that you want to know more. Just look at how Takashi, a brilliant storyteller as he is, is using skulls and flowers to communicate the idea of rebirth and resurrection. From ashes and flames to new living creatures and vibrant flowers.
No such thing as crypto art?
No one was born a natural art connoisseur. But it doesn’t mean we can’t ask questions and try to see to the bottom of things. I bet a lot of you, fellow artists out there, get annoyed when bombarded with another hyped-up hashtag that tries to sell the innocent public on the ‘millennial pink’ or ‘Gen-Z yellow’. It is the danger of DIY social media that causes damage not only to the common taste but also to the artists’ earnings.
Mimicking trends only generates more mediocre art. No stranger to the crypto world, I’ve been watching the emergence and maturing of ‘crypto art’ for the past two years. Sadly, the space at large is now falling victim to mediocrity. NFT artists and bidders, hear me out. Before going for the promise of fractionalized ownership and those ‘amazing gains’, consider this: does this creation has any artistic value? It is one thing, if a young talented artist (just like an acclaimed one), puts his work on the Ethereum blockchain to capitalize on a fraction of his timeless work. It’s a whole different story if some questionable talent turns to crypto to make an extra buck and decides to draw Vitalik in doodley lines ‘because the dude built the ETH coin’. The point is: drawing red bulls and golden coins doesn’t make you an NFT artist per se. It only makes you look desperate because the whole labeling thing is here just to add hype.
Art is art, whether it is programmed into a token, or not, unless it’s a proper art movement. But honestly, we’ve got a long way to go if we want crypto art to compete with the likes of DADA. In the meantime, why don’t we abstract from the bulls and Vitalik, and look at how this piece by @sven.eberwein dwells on the interoperable, transient nature of DeFi. A simple convergence of liquid forms, one flowing into another to the point where it’s almost impossible to tell them apart. Just like the liquidity pools of hundreds of tokens on SushiSwap! That’s the beauty of analogy and metaphor, a real undercurrent of any worthy art piece. We don’t need to see unicorns or token tickers. Instead of telling us, the piece goes directly to the heart by showing the ever-changing protocols that merge to give birth to new and unconventional economic primitives.
If you're not doing social art these days, what are you even doing?
Another cue is the artist’s relevance. And while trying to stay relevant myself, I’d like to feature these two who show the marginalized black communities and strike me as looking right to the core of their surroundings to reveal the unsettling imperfections.
Eniwaye Oluwaseyi, Boy with the White Hair:
‘Each work brings attention to an individual of a certain socioeconomic background and outlines underlying political issues by shedding a light on a marginalised person or community, all-the-while examining the identities and power struggles within our shared spaces. With my work, I hope to spark up comprehensive conversations with those that see them, no matter where on the globe they may find themselves.’
Lynette Yiadom-Boakye: ‘Fly-In League With The Night’:
Figures gaze from canvases, and at each other, with a calm, yet intentional resolve. The viewer is left to decipher their stories, but these are stories – it’s all fiction in her enigmatic work.
Before you go.
For those of you who’re lucky enough to be in London this month, do not miss out on Wallpaper’s selection of art on display. I’ll leave the rest of you to reflect on the blog, shoot your questions in the comments, or maybe even share some art? I got only one request: it has to be able to make us feel something.
