Response
For me there exists a perpetual state of almost-completeness…or a sense of just about having everything figured out except for a few elusive bits of life-altering knowledge that, once found, will render my understanding whole. This way of thinking is obviously flawed, but I hold on to it…my perpetual hope. It twists the way I approach new information, and a year from now I’ll inevitably look back on this semester and feel foolish for how I perceived the various topics introduced in Critical Theory.
That said, I have a few memories of Eurocentricism (not that I knew what it was when these experiences were had) and thoughts on the Mosquera article.
The topic of European expectations for third world art was brought up in the Gardens and Machines class a while back. Juan Obando talked about Columbian photographers getting rich by taking pictures of the “suffering” children in Bogota.
A few weeks after this, I visited my girlfriend’s aunt and uncle. I was told that her aunt loves art…so much so that she’d filled her house with it. I found out that her aunt did, in fact, love art…so much so that she’d filled her house with ornately framed Picasso’s and Dali’s.
In elementary school there was this kid named Greg I liked to hang out with. He raced go-karts, smoked cigarettes, and had a leather burning kit. His dad had a sweet collection of Native American art. He’d get drunk and tell us how valuable it all was. About that same time, my class took a field trip to the Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis. That place was full of Native American art, and I started to form an idea of the “exotic.”
A couple years later, the exotic was further reinforced in my mind when I attended an African American culture festival. My mother did her undergrad a traditionally black school in Indianapolis called Martin University while I was in middle school. She liked to attend the arts and culture events and brought me along to expose me to “different ways of life.” Ha…mom.
I mention these Eurocentric memories because I’m wondering, like some of my other classmates, how I’ve come to create the things I call my art. Did I develop naturally…my questions and interests shaped by some innate and pure artistic guide? Or am I a product of Eurocentricism? And if so, what does this mean for me, a white but maybe black guy from Indiana? Am I exotic? Are there Eurocentric stereotypes I should be portraying in my work?
Currently, I’m not up to the challenge of Eurocentric deconstruction. I’m more interested in finding a new Eurocentric niche. There are many currently in existence, and they have gained proper respect as shown by their inclusion in academic discussion, galleries, and museums. There is one niche, however, which is yet to be legitimized…a style of art widely dismissed as trash. I am speaking of Redneck Art.
Redneck Art is the art of American rednecks. It utilizes an incredibly wide range of “at-hand” media, is largely representational and humorous in nature, and serves as a creative rallying point for a community that feels like outsiders in the contemporary art scene.
Take a look at these fine examples of Redneck Art, and ask yourself why this unique form of artistic creation is denied it’s own Eurocentric niche.
Mailbox Gun
Assquatch
Beverly Mobile
El Mansion
Butt Doorbell
