I’ll be on tour all summer with my band of assistants playing second rate venues around the country in anticipation of my forthcoming album. If I’ve been neglectful of the blog it’s only because I have been rehearsing all spring. Re-inventing rock music is taking a terrible toll on me, but I’m looking forward to doing something different. The tour will be stopping at Platform Gallery in Seattle this fall on our way to Miami in December for the album release. We’re still looking for a venue, but I’m sure something will materialize.

I discovered this little gem of acknowledgment on Art Review Magazine’s website written by Jonathan T.D. Neil about the lack of satire in the art world.

Which leads me to ask: Why don’t we see more of this kind of thing from the art world? Where is our satire? – the one that does not point its finger at the perceived idiocies of the public or the government but at those of artists and artworks themselves? (Bill Powhida, with his faux New York magazine covers and Art Newspaper broadsheets, is bravely alone in this task at the moment; but then so was Ad Reinhardt in his day.) I think we do artists and their art a disservice if we find them too delicate for – or unworthy of – a few barbs. Of course art is a serious business. But it is also quite often absurd. Which is why the parallel to our contemporary political theater is so apt.

Neil isn’t alone in this assessment, if fact Richard Klein from the Aldrich Museum discussed the possibility of organizing a show of my work along side Ad Reinhardt’s comic paintings from the 50’s at Aqua this year in Miami. Klein felt that it would provide some insight into the art world from two different historical perspectives. I’m not claiming that mine is historical only that it reflects my cultural experience. Whether or not it will stand the test of time, which people often question about my work, might best be answered by the relevance of Reinhardt’s work fifty years later. Rienhardt seems to be one of the few artist’s who tackled the absurdity of the art world then, and it is a bit lonely working this way now. Some of my closest friends don’t trust the work, and think I ought to be using my visibility to raise more important issues. I disagree and feel that artists like Jen Dalton and Guy Richards Smit are also dealing with the absurdity of the art world while creating meaningful works of art that address class, gender, and power in often hilarious ways. Smit’s new comic book about his character, Jonathan Grossmalerman, is a black comedy and satire about the intersection of wealth and politics. In this case, a wealthy Russian collector dies at the opening after being poised with Polonium. I picked up a copy at Spoonbill in Williamsburg, and have to acknowledge Smit’s work as a cornerstone of my own practice. His character based videos and paintings along with David Kramer and Jim Torok’s work made the use of text and narrative seem like vital devices for critique.

While I agree with Neil’s assessment that this is lonely work, I’m not making a lot of friends here, I don’t think I am alone at all. Artists like Eric Heist may not employ overt comedy, but are wickedly satirical. A close reading of Michael Waugh’s work reveals a deeply satirical view of artistic and political commissions, and the artists relationship to the collector. Jade Townsend sends up the importance of the object in the contemporary market with unrestrained zeal, materialism, materialism, materialism.

I’m thrilled Neil recognized my work in his call for more satirical work questioning the fucked up relationships in the art world, but I could curate a show tomorrow that would answer it. Any takers?

Gearing up for Armory week in New York. I’ll have some new work at PULSE with Schroeder Romero in booth D6. PULSE has moved over to Pier 40 this year, near West Houston. Anyway, this is where the magic happens, but I can’t show any more of my studio. It needs some serious attention now that the work is done.

Shit…

And what kind of art was favored by Emperors Club Contemporary Art clientele? Several pages dedicated to artworks trumpet works by the likes of Carl Andre, John Chamberlain, Gregory Crewdson, Hilary Harkness, Jeff Koons, Vera Lutter, Richard Prince, David Salle, Andrew Wyeth and Dr. Hugo Heyrman, and William Powhida.

The jig is up, my special private dealer got busted for the prostitution, but I hoped no one would would find out where I sold all my stripper paintings. This is just terrible. I’m going to have to call Jeff and Larry and see what I should do. The market will never be the same.

So I’m in the midst of working on a proposal for Art Positions, the shipping container corner of the ABMB, and I can’t help but think about how pissed I am about not being in the Biennial, but then again I’m always pissed off so it doesn’t really ruin my day most days. Anyway, everyone always hates the Biennial. I didn’t find much to like in the last go around, except encountering Dash Snow and thinking, “Hey, look, something vaguely political!” It’s a shame he turned out to be such a douchebag. Normally, I’d take people’s word that this one also sucks, but I draw the line at listening to anything The New York Post says. (I read the Sports section, it’s a quarter, and sometimes I flip through the rest to see what the enemy is thinking so I can mimic empathy with conservative types)

I caught a review of the Biennial and thought ‘what the fuck is the Post doing covering the Biennial?’ Sarah Schmerler laughs off the entire thing with the exception of Cheyney Thompson, Omer Fast, and one other artist. Great. Now I feel compelled to go see the show. I guess it’s just too easy to dismiss the Biennial. If the Post is going to make fun of it, then I’ll have to go see it. After all Schmerler says it’s the art fairs, auction houses, and collectors that define the art world. What’s that Sarah?! Your saying it’s all about market? Well, we’d all better hope 400 points and $200 Billion is enough.

Or we could say fuck the market…