Nothing If Not Critical: Essays on Art and Artists

Either you love Robert Hughes or you hate Robert Hughes. I consider him the greatest art critic alive and his insights on XX century art are irreplaceable pieces of wit and culture. This book is a sum of most of the author's articles published in Time Magazine and other medias and covers old masters as well as modern and contemporary artists.The articles on Warhol and Basquiat, as well as the one on the NY art scene, are brilliant. I bought this book when it came out and rereading it recently I saw how utterly modern it still is, considering today's art world.

An exceedingly thorough, yet entertaining, historical account of great painters of the past as well as of contemporary artists. Hughes is candid and not influenced by traditional art critique; thus in many cases he offers a new way of looking at painters and paintings.

This collection of magazine reviews and essays, first published in 1990, serves as a short course in the development of American and European art over the last few centuries. The eye is keen, the mind is thoroughly grounded in art history and tradition, and the writing is lucid and provocative. Hughes wrote the magazine pieces while working as the art critic for Time Magazine. They tend to be triggered by major exhibitions of modern artists or major retrospectives of dead ones. Hughes always starts from the work, and deals with the constricted space of the magazine format by isolating something essential about an artist: DeKooning's draftsmanship; Hopper's despair held in abeyance; Pisarro's decency; Pollock as aesthete instead of wild cowboy; the mismatch between Rothko's intellectual aims and artistic strategies. Sandwiched between whiskey ads and the pimping of NBC's new sitcom, Hughes' magazine reviews demonstrate an admirable ability to dissect major paintings and analyze artists without talking down to Time's mass audience. The longer essays first appeared in venues such as The New York Review of Books and The New Republic. In these pieces, Hughes lets his critical and rhetorical capabilities off the leash. The opening essay gives us Hughes' take on the 1980s New York art scene, which Hughes saw as a "low, dishonest decade," for several interrelated reasons. First, the art being produced did not serve or surpass the modernist tradition that preceded it; for Hughes, all serious art must grapple with what came before it, and figure out how to move beyond it. ("An artist's every action is judged by an unwearying tribunal of the dead.") Intelligent evaluation of the work produced by emerging artists became supplanted by hype. And it's easier to hype a work - and charge outrageous prices for it - if you unmoor it from any serious critical evaluation of what the work is actually achieving. He's right; it does seem like a very far way from Pollock and deKooning to Basquiat and Koons, and not necessarily progress. Some of the more memorable longer pieces include his take on Warhol's affectless self-promotion, and his dismantling of Baudrillard's bombastic drivel on the essence of America. There's an informative essay on art and money that shows how escalating art prices remove art from the public because museums can't afford to bid against private collectors for major pieces, and because the insurance costs on major works make comprehensive retrospectives fiendishly difficult to assemble. Denied access to visceral experience of a sculpture or painting, aesthetic consensus is increasingly derived from reproduced rather than actual objects. This makes the art world more vulnerable to brilliant promoters like Warhol or clever packagers like Hirsch. As Hughes puts it, "the art world looks more like the fashion industry than itself. . ." There's a wonderful essay on Goya that traces the connection between Goya's artistic output and h

Short essays, most of them published in Time magazine. Hughes'keen and witty look at several artists - from great masters to contemporary ones. We don't have to agree with everything he says, but he's always objective, concise and inteligent.

I don't know much about art and I'm not even sure I know what I like. But it's obvious that this book is intelligently - and honestly - written, and I'm writing this review mainly to recommend the book to other people who aren't terribly interested in the visual arts. Hughes has made me think more highly of painting in general and made me re-evaluate much of what I thought about the twentieth century. (Don't worry: he also confirmed much of it.) He isn't at all afraid to announce that the emperor has no clothes - so on those occasions when he confirms that the emperor is, in fact, fully dressed, I am much more inclined to believe him.Wittily written, too.