The Emperor's New Clothes

Once upon a time... there lived a miscreant who called himself the (scam) "artist." He would use chicanery to seduce snobs and elitists to purchase his "art." Some of his "art" would look like enlarged balloon animals ... or perhaps a massive jewel bauble ... or even a heart-shaped ornament ready for a giant-sized Christmas tree of 100 ft or more. What they all have in common is that they are bright, shiny, and highly commercialized objects.

This "artist" was clearly not creative enough to have come up with the idea of duping highfalutin art enthusiasts into appreciating and purchasing a "concept" rather than actual artwork. The story comes from Hans Christian Anderson's "The Emperor's New Clothes." Here is the summary of the plot according to Wikipedia:

An Emperor who cares for nothing but his appearance and attire hires two tailors who promise him the finest suit of clothes from a fabric invisible to anyone who is unfit for his position or “just hopelessly stupid”. The Emperor cannot see the cloth himself, but pretends that he can for fear of appearing unfit for his position; his ministers do the same. When the swindlers report that the suit is finished, they mime dressing him and the Emperor then marches in procession before his subjects, who play along with the pretense. Suddenly, a child in the crowd, too young to understand the desirability of keeping up the pretense, blurts out that the Emperor is wearing nothing at all and the cry is taken up by others. The Emperor cringes, suspecting the assertion is true, but holds himself up proudly and continues the procession.

Living in an art world that has become heavily commercialized, I find that pretense has the potential to run rampant among some of those who live in it. Those who think that Jeff Koons is a "visionary" by making a killing on nothing other than "pretty" objects, heavily underscores the pretense.

While I can respect Mr. Koons for attempting to "beat" the system and pulling the wool over the eyes of spectators, collectors, and art historians alike, there is still the idea that some are being left with egg on their faces.

At a "Contemporary Art Post 1970" lecture at the MoMA with a very scholarly art historian, the group was shown Koons' basketballs floating in a tank of water. Great time was spent on explaining this work and finally one of the visitors asked the lecturer, "What are your thoughts on Jeff Koons?" After a few moments of thought, the lecturer responded, "Well, I am fascinated by Koons. He knows how to work the system and has almost beat it. His work is not my favorite, but he certainly knows how to confuse and baffle, while intriguing the art world. For this reason I love him."

While I respect her answer, because honestly that's how I probably would have answered, there is still a big question in my mind. When did the artist's showmanship abilities come to be valued more than the actual artwork? J.A.M. Whistler was also a great showman, but his work was meaningful and filled with a transcendental presence. Koons' work has me grounded so deeply in a superficial reality that it makes my head spin.

Are patrons who buy his work walking around naked... or rather are they dressed  in sartorial elegance?