The tale of a $1.76 million abstract painting: an informative but uneven assessment...
Written: Sep 28 '05 (Updated Sep 28 '05)
Product Rating:
Pros: Informative essays displaying a wide variety of opinions; well documented.
Cons: The pro-purchase arguments are mostly underwhelming.
The Bottom Line: While not wholly satisfying, this book does present an interesting overview of a key event in Canadian artistic history.
platonism's Full Review: Voices of Fire: Art, Rage, Power, and the State
The book I'm about to review deals with what was probably the biggest art-related controversy to take place in Canada in the latter half of the 20th century. I assume that most readers are not too familiar with these events, and will thus begin this review with a few words about them (all of this information is included in the book).
The purchase of a controversial, $1.76 million painting
On March the 7th, 1990, the National Gallery of Canada issued a press release in which it enumerated its yearly acquisitions. Such announcements usually go unnoticed, but this time it was different. Among the Gallery's acquisitions was a 5.4-metre-high by 2.4-metre-wide painting by American abstract expressionist artist Barnett Newman (1905-1970) titled Voice of Fire (1967); this painting had previously been loaned to the Gallery by Newman's widow for almost two years, but now it had been bought. When it was announced that it cost $1.76 million, the Gallery came under attack; the main reason for this was not so much the price as the actual work, which consisted in three vertical stripes of color (you can see it here: http://cybermuse.gallery.ca/cybermuse/search/artwork_zoom_e.jsp?mkey=35828). Canada was going through a rough stretch at the time, following the dismal reception of the just-signed Free Trade Agreement with the US and a forthcoming new services tax. The Gallery's budget being mostly paid for by the taxpayers, the government was in a difficult situation. A federal minister even tried to cancel the purchase, but it was too late - the work had already been bought in August of 1989.
During the following months, the Canadian media was confronted with intense reactions of all kinds, some in favor of the purchase, others adamantly against it. Abstract art and Gallery curators were thus alternately applauded and ridiculed, while caricaturists had a field day detailing the ensuing battles. The whole situation brought forward a slew of questions about art in general and abstract art in particular, commerce, the widening breach between the public and "high art" pundits, etc. The 1996 book Voices of Fire: Art, Rage, Power and the State, edited by Bruce Barber, Serge Guilbaut and John O'Brian, addresses all of these points, with frequently interesting but uneven results.
About the book's contents
In his introduction, John O'Brian puts the Voice of Fire controversy in the perspective of other such events, both in Canada and in the US. While some of these controversies were based on moral grounds - such as when Catholics opposed an infamous image by Andres Serrano (here it is: http://www.renewal.org.au/artcrime/pages/serrano.html) -, those opposed to the acquisition of Voice of Fire were mainly offended by the work's utter simplicity and (by contrast) its exorbitant price. O'Brian goes on to further contextualize the purchase, stating that the Gallery had recently become an autonomous corporation free to select works of art as it wished.
The "Documents" section offers a wide variety of material on the Voice of Fire case: a detailed chronology (both of Barnett Newman's life and career and of the purchase itself); nineteen caricatures making fun of the painting, the artist, the Gallery and some politicians; numerous newspaper articles and letters sent by readers. This well-documented section might be the book's most informative.
The remainder of the book is formed by seven essays and/or lectures, and by a general discussion between some of the authors and the public. As expected, most of the essays deal with the reactions to the painting. In his article, Thierry de Duve writes about two Canadians - a house painter and an artist - who chose to reproduce Voice of Fire in order to satirize the Gallery's move; both drew different conclusions from their actions. In another piece, John O'Brian explains the trajectory of Voice of Fire: it made its first appearance during the Montreal-based world's fair Expo 67, in the US pavillon. The link between the work and Canada is crucial in other ways as well: Newman himself has spent a few months in Saskatchewan in 1959, and his work and theories influenced several artists working in Montreal. Strangely enough, little is made of this link in the writings of Brydon Smith, the man most responsible for the purchase (he also authored one of this book's essays, in addition to a two-page introduction to the painting distributed for free to those who went to the Gallery). While acknowledging that the sight of Voice of Fire in 1967 left him with a lasting impression, Smith doesn't seem to think that this "historical argument" has any weight in justifying the purchase, because he only rarely alludes to it.
A week defense...
As a whole, this is the book's main flaw: the defense offered by those on the "for" side is underwhelming. These authors mostly stick to overly defensive arguments ($1.76 million is not that much in the current art market; works that were misunderstood in their time eventually became recognized as masterpieces; etc.), and when Brydon Smith tries to elucidate the painting's power, he resorts to rather cold, formalist comments (an example: "Voice of Fire's soaring height, strengthened by the deep cadmium-red centre between dark blue sides, is for many visitors an exhilarating affirmation of their being wholly in the world and in a special place where art and architecture complement each other"). This very criticism is formulated by one of the contributors: Serge Guilbaut, in the closing general discussion, highlights the limitations of Smith's discourse, and, by the same token, the failure of the modern museum in trying to give adequate context to challenging and/or controversial artworks. Unfortunately, he does not really offer a true counter-argument, but only points to the weaknesses of Smith's analysis.
Thus, even though the great majority of the book's authors are on the "for" side, the resulting defense leaves a lot to be desired. I should add that the book is not excessively apologetic: in fact, many of the articles gather together a good number of reasons explaining why people should be surprised, and even shocked, by the acquisition. But the writers come up short in trying to actually defend the purchase.
Readers intrinsically opposed to abstract art might rejoice in this, and be even more convinced that the modern art emperor has no clothes. But readers like myself, who are at once fascinated by abstract art (hence my avatar) and suspicious of the art market and its self-appointed leaders, are bound to be somewhat disappointed. Still, the book should be read because it provides an informative overview of a key event in Canadian artistic history.
Epinions.com periodically updates pricing and product information from third-party sources, so some information may be slightly out-of-date. You should confirm all information before relying on it.