ARTICLE-Outcasts: Post Elitist Art

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Past the Point of No Return: Elitist Art is Dead. What Comes Next?

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In my compulsive reading of the ongoing analysis regarding post election consequences and hysteria, I came across this insightful article (clink on the link to read the whole thing):

TRUMP AND THE RAGE OF THE BRAHMANDARINS, by New Class Traitor

The piece makes an interesting comparison between the power struggles of various factions of American society and the Indian Caste system. I see a similar dynamic at play in the art world, which will result in a whole new field of consequences and hysteria to explore.

India makes for an intriguing parallel for the United States after our decades of divisive establishment politicking. A melting pot no more, we’ve been encouraged to divide ourselves into competing niche interest groups, sorted out by race, class, region, religion, and genders actual and imaginary. In this, we now share much in common with the Indian subcontinent, which packs multitudes of distinct ethnic groups, belief systems, and languages into one technically unified country.

In response to the chaos inherent in so many striving factions, over time India developed a controlling system of social stratification and segregation, the caste system. It is a hierarchy where everyone was assigned their role from birth.

The article from New Class Traitor provides these definitions of the four major caste groupings (called varnas, “colors”) and a notable subset:

From top to bottom, the varnas are:

1.  Brahmins (scholars)

2.  Kshatryas (warriors, rulers, administrators)

3.  Vaishyas (merchants, artisans, and farmers)

4.  Shudras (laborers)

5.  Finally, the Dalit (downtrodden, outcasts — the term “pariah” is considered so offensive it has become “the p-word”) are traditionally considered beneath the varna system altogether, as are other “Scheduled Castes” (a legal term in present-day India, referring to eligibility for affirmative action).

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A schematic of India’s Caste System

Don’t read the “Brahmin” here as actual religious figures. In our context it means our new self-aggrandizing aristocracy of the well-connected: the globalists and their various functionaries, lackeys, and minions.

His article goes on to describe connections between this model and the current American experience:

American society used to be a byword for social mobility (“the American dream”) — but a stratification has set in, and it takes little imagination to identify strata of Dalit, Shudras, and Vaishyas in modern American society. The numerically small subculture of military families could be identified as America’s Kshatryas. So where are the Brahmins? (No, I’m not referring to the old money Boston elite.) And why am I using the portmanteau “Brahmandarins” for our New Class?

In India one was, of course, born into the Brahmin varna, and they actually delegated the messy business of governance to the varna below them. In China’s Middle Kingdom, on the other hand, not only was the scholarly Mandarin caste actually the backbone of governance, but in principle anyone who passed the civil service exams could become a Mandarin.

Originally, these exams were meant to foster a meritocracy. Predictably, over time, they evolved to select for conformity over ability, being more concerned with literary style and knowledge of the classics than with any relevant technical expertise.

Hmm, sounds familiar? Consider America’s “New Class”: academia, journalism, “helping” professions, nonprofits, community organizers, trustafarian artists,… Talent for something immediately verifiable (be it playing the piano, designing an airplane, or buying-and-selling,… ) or a track record of tangible achievements are much less important than credentials — degrees from the right places, praise from the right press organs…[emphasis mine]

The New Class should be more like the Mandarins rather than the Brahmins, as in theory (and to some degree in practice) 1st-generation membership is open to people of all backgrounds…

In practice, however, this class is highly endogamous, and its children have an inside track on similar career paths. (Charles Murray’s “Coming Apart” made this case to a fare-thee-well.) Thus one finds 2nd and 3rd generation New Class members, whose outlooks on life tend to be much more insular and collectively self-centered than that of their 1st-generation peers. (It is important not to over-generalize about one’s fellow human beings: some of the fiercest fellow ‘renegades’ I know were to the manor born.) In that respect then, the New Class does resemble the Brahmins. Hence my portmanteau “Brahmandarins”.

He concludes with our last election acting as a kind of coup against the entitled “Brahmandarin” class which has dominated the establishment for decades now:

Fast-forward to the present. In the last several Presidential elections, Brahmandarin D candidates (Obama, Hillary) were pitted against Kshatriyas (McCain) or Vaishyas (Romney, Trump). Unsurprisingly, Brahmandarin presidents tend to appoint cabinet and senior aides from among the Brahmandarin caste, while Trump’s appointments came almost exclusively from the Vaishyas (Exxon CEO Tillerson for State, various other execs), and Kshatriyas (Mattis, Flynn, Kelly). It doesn’t matter that most of these people have real-world achievements to their names than a Robbie Mook type can only dream of: they are “ignorant” (read: insufficiently subservient to New Class shibboleths), “hate-filled”, etc. — All short-hand for “not one of us”.

For those same people who keep on prating about how open they are to foreign cultures (the more foreign, the better to “virtue-signal”) are completely unable to fathom the mindset of their compatriots of a different caste: they might as well come from a different planet as from a different country.

In the last election, with the smug “basket of deplorables” wisecrack, the anointed figurehead of the priestly/scholarly clique let the mask slip, and revealed the very unAmerican conceit that those who dared disagree with the establishment agenda were irredeemable Outcastes. The voters returned their verdict on that attitude.

“It isn’t so much that liberals are ignorant. It’s just that they know so many things that aren’t so.”

-Ronald Reagan

Judging from the terrible real world results of their chronic mismanagement, our governing, self-anointed “smartest people in the room” have turned out to not be smart at all. Their system of “meritocracy”  has been exposed as a racket, serving up only cronyism and a lack of accountability.

If these people had been truly educated, they would have learned from the ancient Greeks that hubris leads to nemesis. However, it’s hard to conceive of a greater collection of ignorance and nonsense than what passes for the coursework of contemporary academia, and so all the supposed best, brightest and most powerful were incapable of adapting to a changing world.

The assumption is the art world is about to rally, and put a stop this shocking turn of events. “What Does It Mean To Be An Artist In the Time Of Trump?” huffs the Huffington Post. Based on the interviews within, nothing new. These insider artists intend to offer the same old cryptoMarxist litany that has kept our contemporary cultural institutions unpleasant and irrelevant for at least 50 years. The luvvies of the establishment art markets declare they will bring you their rage. They will keep having futile tantrums launched from unstable platforms of identity politics, make lots of threats to keep subverting and questioning and denouncing, and use even more tactical buzzwords describing their various chew toy -Isms.

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Fight the Power!

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What these artists don’t see is they are defending the shabby shadows from a dead dinosaur of a political philosophy, one that has caused a century of suffering and oppression. They’ve been so well indoctrinated they don’t even realize how ineffectual they are. I won’t dignify their cheap efforts at propaganda and third rate activism with the meaningful status of art.

All art intuitively apprehends coming changes in the collective unconsciousness.

-Carl Jung

War was already declared on the excesses of establishment art, at the turn of the current century. And not only the ideological, virtue signalling style of art, but also the self-absorbed, alienating products of the Ivory Tower approach, status symbol art made to cater to the expectations of elitist curators, trophy hunting collectors, and other art snobs.

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Miro, Miro on the wall…

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In 1999, before there were recognizable populist movements aimed at stripping authority away from the incompetent and arrogant ruling political classes, there was a revolution in art. In England, a grassroots group of painters who called themselves the Stuckists launched attacks on the powerful but corrupted arts institutions of the UK. They blew apart the facade that the art world did anything but serve the agenda of the establishment. “Brit Art, in being sponsored by Saachis, main stream conservatism and the Labour government, makes a mockery of its claim to be subversive or avant-garde,” their manifesto accurately observed.

In their later masterful overview of the coming changes in collective unconsciousness, The Remodernism Manifesto, co-founders Billy Childish and Charles Thomson stated: “It is quite clear to anyone of an uncluttered mental disposition that what is now put forward, quite seriously, as art by the ruling elite, is proof that a seemingly rational development of a body of ideas has gone seriously awry.”

You can take the words “as art” out of that statement, and it summaries the abuses and failures that are coming to a head now in our culture now quite succinctly. With its distrust of received authority and emphasis on spirituality and personal responsibility, Remodernism was a harbinger of greater movements taking form across the globe.

Just like the “Brahmandarins,” the know-nothing educated classes who fancied themselves privileged and entitled, are being toppled from their positions of power in administration, so they will be cast out of their gatekeeper status in the arts. Their particular brand of “scholarly” art has had a hundred years to gain traction in our civilization, but has failed to do so. Without their endless partisan support, this stuff will vanish quickly, only notable as artifacts of a bygone era.

Who is on the wrong side of history now?

Cutting away the presumptions of the existing arts establishment is liberating. The possibilities are limitless. We are the latest iteration of the American character: optimistic, ordinary people working as explorers and inventors, self-reliant and productive. We make a complex art for complex times.

Welcome to Remodern America.

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Richard Bledsoe “Side Saddle” acrylic on canvas 24″ x 30″

 

 

PAINTINGS: A Year Later in Tangier I Heard She Was Dead

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Richard Bledsoe “A Year Later in Tangier I Heard She was Dead”

acrylic on canvas 12″ x 12″

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The genre was once referred to as History Painting, and it was considered the highest form of artistic expression. For hundreds of years, ambitious artists poured their skills into epic works which depicted scenes from not only history, but from religion, mythology, and literature as well.

The Modern Art era did a lot to sever visual art from this traditional engagement with story telling. This was a huge mistake.There’s nothing to be gained from trying to substitute theoretical intellectual stylings for the passion, drama and resonance of imagery inspired from narrative, whether derived from reality or imagination.

The Remodernist artist is a story teller, visually defining essential moments in the never ending action of the world, the mind, and the spirit.

A few years back I launched into a series of paintings inspired by a favorite book: Naked Lunch, by William S. Burroughs. Its controversial reputation obscures many of the elements that I really enjoy about it. It’s totally disjointed and incoherent compared to a conventional novel, but amongst the fragments it is built from are elements of hard boiled noir mysteries, adventure tales, paranoid science fiction, wicked humor, cheap porno, and most poignantly, autobiography.

Burroughs was the black sheep son of wealthy parents. His drug habits and homosexuality kept him in trouble and on the run in the 1940s and 1950s. He and his common-law wife Joan Vollmer wound up in Mexico City. In 1951 an awful event occurred. While they were wasted and partying, Burroughs suggested to Joan it was time for “their William Tell routine.” Joan put a glass on top of her head. Burroughs tried to shoot it off and missed, hitting and killing Joan instead. It was a stupid spontaneous act that haunted Burroughs for the rest of his days. He fled to Morocco and sank into severe addiction. It was in this deranged state he wrote the rambling pages that his friend  Jack Kerouac later assembled at random and typed into the manuscript that became Naked Lunch.

Many of my “Naked Lunch” paintings are crude, rough, and unfinished, which suits the subject matter. I flipped through the book, and just like Burroughs wrote by scrambling random words together, I pulled out random quotes to base my paintings on.

“A Year Later in Tangier I Heard She was Dead” is the best of the series, so far. Painted a few years ago, I remember how moved I was by the quote when I read it. I read into it the futility of denial, and how truth and remembrance must have kept getting through to Burroughs even through his drug haze. It’s haunting, and I feel this painting captures the same sense of sadness and accusation.