Ranting versus reviewing

“The unexamined life is not worth living” or so the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates supposedly said–and I am willing to bet that if he were alive today he’d add something like, “and bitching doesn’t count”.  Socrates was a proponent of critical thinking, which is often confused with criticism.  

I’ve been pondering the topic of critical thinking because I am currently involved as a mentor in a critical art writing project organized by CARFAC Saskatchewan.  Decades ago, when I first starting writing art criticism there was much more of a cult of the critic.  Print media encouraged coverage of the novel and the controversial and that certainly rubbed off on art critics.  “Painter paints picture” is hardly news nor were most journalists trained to analyze fine art.  What happened is that we ended up with human interest stories about artists, often with a regional slant, or articles that focused on the financial aspects.  It was a narrative approach or story telling, if it was an outrageous story or an extraordinary event all the better.  Think of finding a Maud Lewis at a flea market for a fraction of its market value.

What troubles me most is that the negativity that is sometimes attached to criticism has morphed into something more potentially sinister.  Ranting is replacing reviewing.  The well reasoned argument has changed into a seductive sound byte or a punchy tweet.  Now that we are equipped with phones that rival professional video and audio capacity combined with near-immediate access to digital broadcast platforms there is little to hold back the unfiltered “really, really stupid” comments.  Everyone can become a critic of almost any topic–and one without an editor. We live in a visual culture and unfortunately lots of finger waving and fast paced, loud talking mixed in with animated exclamation marks can be convincing to a surprising number of people.

http://www.wordchowder.com/

Perhaps we are vulnerable to caustic ranting because we live in a society that is equal parts anxious and distracted.  We are over-stimulated and our attention span is splintered. We consume flashy headlines but not balanced debate. The more uncertain the future becomes the more attractive is a romanticized version of a slow-motion past.  We are bombarded with tragic and frightening events both at home and globally. A dose of gallows humour may relieve stress but it is no match for the roar of the rant.

A Transfusion of Colour

Susan Parson's painting on the traffic box was a welcome boost.

My Mother's Day was not turning out the way I had hoped.  Without going into details, my plans and expectations went awry but I knew better than to complain.  I didn't want to feel sorry for myself.  Instead, I prescribed myself a walk in the sunshine.  At least I could count on a Newfoundland breeze to clear the cobwebs from my mind.  Instinctively, I reached into my closet to put on the brightest piece of clothing I had.  No black outfits today.

Colour has been my remedy on many occasions.  When I first moved to St. John's, I couldn't get over the persistent grey skies and fog, which I knew would affect my moods and my comfort with my new home town.  So, I painted the living room yellow.  I couldn't change the weather but I could change my immediate environment.  It's like the Russian expression, "there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing".  I've always been amused how men will wear navy blue business suits but women's power suits were usually a bright red.  Take charge…I decided I would also paint my toenails, what I call, rich girl red.

Fortuitously, the sun came out for my Mother's Day stroll and I was rewarded on what could have been a day of drudgery.  When I went to Churchill Square to do some errands I was greeted by an eye-catching piece of traffic box art by Susan Parsons.  It was a giant sunflower against a vivid blue sky.  The yellow and blue painting sings with optimism. 

Katie Voutour's Crayons appeals to the kid in me.

The traffic box program is a project of Clean St. John's and has the goal of local beautification.  The transformed box I encountered is one of forty nine in the city; the project started in 2012.  With at least 100 boxes in the city there is plenty more "canvas" for local artists. Each year, a call for artists goes out and eight proposals are selected.  Most of the imagery is upbeat but is definitely not ho-hum.  Encouragingly, I have never seen any of the artwork on these boxes defaced.  The success of the St. John's project has spread to nearby Mount Pearl and Torbay.

And on a positive note, my Mother's Day ended with two of my favourite young servers giving me three red and three yellow roses.