If I Could Hang Art in the White House
“Americans are happy even if it kills them.” - Catherine Deneuve
Americans love Mickey Mouse and AR-15s. Ask them to name one great American painter, however, and many people can’t. Who’s Jackson Pollock? More importantly, who cares? We like what we know and any divergence is met with vengance. Take for example, the fury that surrounded Andres Serrano’s, “Piss Christ.” In America we take things to extreme. If our values are challenged and we feel uncomfortable you might end up dead. Be happy, buy guns, and hang a Thomas Kinkade above the couch. This is America.
… a certain kind of America. There are alternative ways of being that better express the fullness and, also, the emptiness of humanity. One such way is through art. Art gives voice to the unutterable, to the deep and mysterious mind, and to the individual and collective conscience. Painting, unlike music, is peculiar in that it acts in silence, a quiet, sobering, ambivalent silence. With painting, like poetry, truth exists in the empty space between words.
by rigorous rationality and and the irrational. beautiful, logical, scientific, pathological, and horrific, from all walks of life and cultures, from the sacred to the profane.
Many works of art question the norms of decency but art doesn’t kill.
I’ve long wanted to be President, not to hold office but to curate and live with art in the White House. I have a weakness for breathtakingly beautiful paintings and I would commit an act of sacrilege by including European artists. I make no apologies. At the center of the White House collection would feature two titanic 20th century paintings. Francis Bacon’s, “Figure with Meat” from the Chicago’s Art Institute would lock horns with a Rothko dark plum painting. Speaking of plums, I would include a Chardin. I once saw a plummy Ellsworth Kelly triangular painting too. A long gentle curve with impossibly sharp angles. A silent scream. Yes, I’m going dark.
There would be an Ad Reinhardt, a blue painting, a Frank Stella black stripe painting, a Twombly, and an early oil painting by Agnes Martin. America has her own Raphael and his name is Willem de Kooning (sorry Jackson). In 1948, De Kooning’s early black & white enamel paintings were a watershed in art history and kicked off American modernism. Yeah, there’s the entirely radical “Red, Yellow, Blue” by the Russian painter, Alexander Rodchenko, but that’s another story.
I’m from L.A. and I grew up in water. I love the Pacific Ocean and I love swimming pools. It’s been my life’s dream to swim with wild dolphins. I also want to swim in an “Ocean Park” painting by Richard Diebenkorn, full of calm, colorful beauty. David Hockney is the king of swimming pool painters but Eric Fischl slices Hockney’s wrist with his disturbing, “Late America.” Stop. Replace your repulsion with empathy.
For a painting that’s redder than red, sorry National Gallery of Art, I would steal Vermeer’s little jewel, “Girl with a Red Hat”. I would also juxtapose a Joseph Marioni wetter than wet red monochrome painting with (though he’s an asshole) Brice Marden’s, “Dragons”.
If angels could paint they would paint like Adriaen Coorte. I would love to have his “Three Peaches and a Butterfly” painting in my bedroom along with a stunningly sensual Stieglitz photo of Georgia O’Keffe’s hands. Don’t they make a lovely pairing?
Spanish still life painting is a force. I would take a wondrous still life painting in Norton Simon, Zurbaran’s, “Still Life with Lemons”, with their other worldly glow. Then there’s Juan Sánchez Cotán’s “Still Life with Quince, Cabbage, Melon, and Cucumber”. It’s starkly balanced composition and impenetrable darkness would make Rothko jealous. I love you Pasadena and San Diego.
Sometimes art is about breathing, about stillness and oxygen. Imagine the air in the room with a few Turner watercolors and Ingres drawings together. Then there’s the contemporary intimacy of Wes Mills and Vija Celmins, lest we not forgot that works on paper can be momentous too, like Jasper John’s, “Diver”.
Sometimes art is about the lack oxygen, like the bracing art of Neo Rauch. I would also steal one of the greatest works of art (forgive my hyperbole) of the 20th century, Robert Rauschenberg’s, “Canyon”. Then there’s this tiny little Mondrian from MOMA. It’s perfect. Which Basquiat would I choose?
Humanity is fortunate to have so many artistic riches. The amount of talent is bottomless. My White House would also include works by Albert Pinkham Ryder, Giorgio Morandi, Forrest Bess, Albert York, Blinky Palermo, Ruth Duckworth, Francesca Woodman, and David Hammons, just to name a few. Each and every one of these artists are an earthquake.
We live in a world where visual information is instantly assimilated and, yet, this painting by Myron Stout is one of the most confounding I’ve ever seen. Confusion is easier through an excess of information but entirely sure of itself but what is it? What is it doing?
I love the photograms by Adam Fuss and the inkblot drawings by Bruce Connor. Imagine these two artists in the same room with a wax work by Medardo Rosso. America has her Emily Dickenson of painting and his name is Jake Berthot. There’s his soul robbing, “Lovella’s Thing” and this equally persuasive jewel, “Untitled (Orange)”.
Does the White House need a Van Eyck, a Holbein, and a Petrus Christus? Hmm, I don’t think so. The National Gallery is just down the street. I’ll let Kansas City keep their Caravaggio too but, oh my…
Speaking of controversial, I would be reviled for including only one Presidential portrait in the White House; Gilbert Stuart’s, “George Washington” (The Athenaeum Portrait) 1796, from the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery. It’s unfinished and raw, just like Washington… and just like us.
My White House art collection would be heavy on paintings but photography often hits harder. I’m thinking of a certain photo from Todd Heisler’s, “Final Salute” series. War is money and Presidents kill. Their souls should die too. Another quietly horrific photo by Frank Breuer, “Industrial Hall (Nike)” is about the clean veneer of American capitalism masking slave labor.
Could the White House handle a Philip Guston painting? You know which ones. Sometimes I think I should push all of the buttons. Still, I would be happy with one of Guston’s early mandarin paintings. Baby steps or go for broke? David Hammons is a must but which works by him? Art can shake the foundation of what it means to be human but people are too weak to confront their own demons. It’s easier to match colors to the living room sofa.
Speaking of controversial, I would be reviled for including only one Presidential portrait in the White House; Gilbert Stuart’s, “George Washington” (The Athenaeum Portrait) 1796, from the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery. It’s unfinished, just like Washington’s story… and just like us.
One confounding sculpture I would love to show is Roni Horn’s, “Pair Object Vll” from the Donald Judd Foundation. It’s a lesson in seeing. Then there is Eric Fischl’s, “Late America”. Oh, the transgression. I would include a transgressive Degas too. I’m not sure if I could stomach Jeff Koon’s, “Bunny Rabbit” in the White House. My affair with Warhol is complicated too.
I would “do” pretty, magnificent pretty, like a Rodney Graham oak tree. Imagine having a, “White House Noguchi Garden”. Bob Irwin did something incredible at the Getty Museum too.
There is much to learn and I would give voice to early indigenous Indian and Mexican art. Also imagine Japanese kyusu by Yamada Jozan lll next to Ted Muehling candlesticks. The West separates utilitarian objects from fine art. The rest of world, not so much. There are histories, important and sacred, that must take center stage. Isn’t the world beautiful?
Art is not supposed to be pretty. Art is supposed to educate and often education is uncomfortable, like Paul Pfeiffer’s, “The Long Count”. America has a love affair with violence but not with sex. This needs to change. I would include a Mapplethorpe and an Andres Serrano, yes, that one. Then, of course, there’s Balthus. You know which painting I’m talking about. Art is a force and it is too often sanitized. I said I was going dark.
Some art would not be for the eyes of children. Then again, adults are children. They need to grow up and look at art like adults. All of these artists seem disparate at first glance but what they all have in common are hands sensitive to touch. They handle paint, light, color, and form like Beethoven sets notes to music. Many celebrated artists don’t know how to paint. They have relevant messages but they lack feel and sensitivity. With great art, every detail matters.
Instead of golf I would spend my time with art. I would say, “good morning” and “good night” to each and every one of these masterpieces. Now… what about the furniture?
