Saturday, August 11, 2012

Summer homework

This summer, an artist I know came up with a project in which a number of people shot photos using disposable cameras and sent the unprocessed images to one another. I pre-visualized mine with a digital camera...I am looking forward to seeing what the disposable camera got, but wanted to share the project's images here...



















Thursday, June 14, 2012

Three-Letter Literature


A few days ago, using Facebook, I sent out an appeal for three letter texts I could use in the work I'm now making in the studio (an example is above...). This blog entry got me thinking. I wanted to anthologize the responses, and I need to make good on my promise of drawings for the contributors...keep an eye peeled for those...more contributions welcome!

Jeff Buddle:
"Ode"
Why not try?
Who can say?
The old man?
Fie! Let him
rot. Try now!

Tony Bures:
You may ask who led who?
How did bee and owl die?
Why the red sky?
The air run out and our pen now dry?

Kristan Campbell:
may eye
one fly
the one
not yet
you die
our fix
not let
you cry
the mix
lip fun
can dye
our ash
can run
the sky

Emily Cobb:
Bee not sad
Sis, wee fly
Fox our day
Bat the sky!
Eye per owl,
Rat out foe,
Lie, jaw, yak,
Ilk nor doe.
Matthew Parrish:
"Out"

Hmm, hum, aha!
Sip rum and see the sun
set sky. Dry off,
pet the dog, toe tap,
hit the bed,
end the day,
her age.

Cecilia Snyder:
Cat has fun fur and
will let you tug and pet him
now rub his shy tum

Sunday, June 10, 2012

The Abstract Engine


It must have been a slow news week because the Wall Street Journal gave over space to Terry Teachout for an essay on "The Seductive Lure of Abstraction.”

Teachout takes the occasion of a travelling exhibit of Richard Diebenkorn paintings as an opportunity to muse on why people care about abstraction in the first place. This may be a question that still stumps readers of the Wall Street Journal, and as much as I admire Teachout for trying to answer it, I found his response a little tired. He couldn’t stick to the problem at hand, often wondering away from the subject of painting to dance and music – as if imagery and narrative were really the same thing. Let’s take another go.

Richard Diebenkorn, Yellow Porch, 1961, oil on canvas,70 1/2 x 67 in.
Anyone who looks at a 60’s Diebenkorn ‘landscape’ and a mid-70’s ‘abstraction’ like one of the Ocean Park paintings will immediately recognize how fragile the wall that separates the real form the abstract can be. Why is abstraction framed as ‘seductive,’ as if to succumb to it is to be, in some way, unfaithful to representation?


Richard Diebenkorn, Ocean Park #83, 1975. Oil on Canvas, 100 X 81 in.
Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, DC.
Realism as we know it didn’t exist until the mid-19th century when certain artists started to portray subjects familiar to the growing middle class and to cater to that audience’s interests (which often included a voyeuristic interest in poverty and hard circumstance)…things that seemed ‘real’. Compared to what? To the religious and historic subjects supported by the patronage class of the late 18th century, of course. Concurrently, many artists of the late 19th and early 20th century were drawn to abstraction by growing certainty that painting could be like music – that it didn’t need to refer to stories to be moving, that it could be beautiful based on its own formal properties. The fact that such views constituted a shift from the previous generation – a means of making two generations distinct from one another and thus creating a new market where none had existed before – seems like something no one wants to address. One sometimes wonders if the imperative to ‘make it new’ wasn’t really motivated by a horror of being seen as old…

But painting has – even when it carried water for its political or religious sponsors – always been driven by an abstract engine. One need only think of the legendary battles of skill between ancient Greek artists over who could paint the thinnest line. Or of Leonardo’s advice to seek the landscape imagery in stains and shadows on the wall. A hundred examples could be offered, and I invite you to add yours to the comments.

An artist like Richard Diebenkorn (or, for that matter, his mirror image Philip Guston) who slides across some perceived barrier between real and abstract ought to remind us of how entwined those things are – how artificial our ideas of reality actually are and how abstract the world actually is.

What makes Diebenkorn’s paintings worth talking about is their quality of specificity – of being so certainly about something that words seem to fail. (Teachout takes up the wordless defense that is so tired…artists are always saying that their works are outside of language. Such artsits should read more to see what people who use language can do with it…there’s a difference between something being beyond words and being beyond my words...) In Diebenkorn’s pictures, that sense of specificity comes in part from the way the artist reveals the process of making the picture. One sees lines drawn and drawn out, colors scumbled over colors, as if each decision were being made and then questioned. As if something had been seen and then recognized as mistaken…the pictures depict a world of second- and third-guesses.

When I go to see Diebenkorn’s Ocean Park paintings at the Corcoran, it won’t be to cast a vote for the real or the abstract. I will go because the paintings show me how false such a division is, and how much of the world they allow me to see.

Thursday, June 07, 2012

Stephan Sagmeister @ ICA | Erin Rose Boyle @ UArts

 Stephan Sagmeister at the ICA.



Little jokes like this are abundant in the gallery...
 Erin Rose Boyle's show Two Moms, Three Boys, Two Dogs is in an office at the University of the Arts.







Wednesday, June 06, 2012

Art Seen - Ellen Harvey @ Locks Gallery

Ellen Harvey's Arcade/Arcadia at Locks Gallery

The etched mirror images reflect and echo...


a small image of Tuner's original gallery (?) is tucked into a corner, easily overlooked. It is, in may ways, a kind of key to the show. Thanks, Carmina, for pointing it out.

Apparently when installed in Margate, the pavilion was skinned with walls and ceiling. Here is it more skeletal, allowing the viewer to see in through the structural frame. It is especially interesting to see the guts of the work - its wires and joints.

Sunday, June 03, 2012

Art seen, June 3


I've been looking forward to seeing H. John Thompson's work at Napoleon. It was worth the wait...


A snapshot from the group exhibit Intramural at Tiger Strikes Asteroid. The clearing sky threatened to outshine any shows.


At Grizzly Grizzly, high-contrast paintings by Mark Sengbush and tiny sculpture by John Chewkun

I've also been looking forward to a chance to see Scott Kip's work, and was pleased to see the show at Marginal Utility.



Friday, March 30, 2012

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Things that annoy me, volume 1,964


The other day I promised I would go through this and address its most irritating moments. I should stop making promises like this. They exhaust me.

Where to begin? How about at 35 seconds, where entrepreneur Steve Blank begins a riff on van Gogh's Starry Night, suggesting that when a painter sets out to make a picture s/he has "no idea what's going to come out". Let's put aside romantic ideas for a minute and just think about this...we'll assume that the painting Blank is talking about is the one in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art, painted in June, 1889...thirteen months before van Gogh's death of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. It's also worth noting that by the time he painted this picture, van Gogh had been working on his craft for nine years. Van Gogh was an astonishingly prolific painter, and some 800 canvases (and many, many more drawings) in his short career. In that short decade, his work underwent considerable transformation from early, gloomy works like the 1885 Potato Eaters. Such changes came - if one trusts art historians (or, for that matter, the artists' own letters, instead of the myths one prefers to invent because they make things so much more interesting...) - after van Gogh started thinking about Seurat's use of color, about the nature of Japanese art and prints, and through exposure to the pictures and ideas of Paul Gaugin.

The point here is that van Gogh didn't just randomly toss canvases on his easel and hope for the best. as Blank implies. At this moment in his reverie, Blank is trying to make a point about how entrepreneurs are not like scientists (rational operators? people who can achieve predictable results under controlled circumstances???) but rather that they are like "artists...but a special breed of artists [...] composers"

Mixed metaphors (artists/composers...what's the diff?) notwithstanding, let's move to 1:16 in the tape, where Blank, with infuriating smugness, observes, "we've been teaching art for hundreds, probably thousands of years in our society [...] yet we still don't know what makes world class composers." Please, Steve, don't include yourself in that 'we.' I don't see any studio teaching in your resume. But, for the sake of argument, let's pretend for a moment that over those thousands of years, no one had identified any principles about harmony, about form, or about any other aesthetic properties that could be passed down from generation to generation so as to constitute a tradition. Let's imagine that every artists figured it out for herself or himself...that no one ever successfully offered advice or considered how another generation might approach an art form. Let's say, because if I get Blank's meaning, that knowledge of how art has been made in the past is of no use to an artist in the present because the circumstances have changed. Then what does it take to make a work of art (or, a successful business, because Blank is really talking about entrepreneurship, not art, about which he evidently knows little)?

Well, duh, it takes an appreciative audience.
The creative act is not formed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds his contribution to the creative act. ~Marcel Duchamp

But acknowledging that works of art come not from brilliant, inspired (or loony) individuals but from our collective interest in what brilliant, inspired (or even, occasionally, loony) individuals make would seriously undermine a motivational speech whose primary message is that it's who you are not what you do that matters. I mean, who cares what you do anyway? It certainly doesn't matter in the arts, where all you really need is a name that can become your brand...why should it matter in business?

Anyway...at about 1:50, Blank talks about the 'irony' of giving scientific tools to people who are artists (note that entrepreneurs are no longer like artists, they are artists...Barthes would have something to say about the way myth is being used here...but fortunately the reader doesn't get any harder than Malcolm Gladwell). Steve Blank, meet Stephen Wilson, and David Edwards. I am as excited as anyone about the possibility that artists in the 21st century can all hang up our velvet smocks and do something new and innovative and (gasp!) relevant outside of the museum/gallery universe, but that doesn't turn every creative act into a work of art, and it doesn't mean that everyone who create something is an artist.

What I really left Blank's short and grating talk with was a strong sense of the self-loathing that entrepreneurs must have. If I understand it correctly, it's necessary for people starting businesses to come up with some alternate universe in which what they do is more important than what it is - in which the design, manufacture, and marketing of a new widget is of the same cultural consequence as a symphony. How about letting things be what they are? Entrepreneurship requires vision, organizational skill, risk-tolerance, and a host of other traits (that are, coincidentally, valuable for artists to possess as well) but dressing it up as an expression of a culture's values and achievements - turning it into a work of art - is a recipe for making fun of art and commerce.

Monday, November 07, 2011

Copyleft sing along


Thanks, Terri for this addition to the copyleft song book. It's like an updated version of Jefferson's comment about whoever lights his candle from mine...Remember, sharing doesn't hurt.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

New work

I put a few new images of things I'm working on for my show at Tiger Strikes Asteroid up on my site. Hope they amuse you...

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Back to writing about teaching


Now that I'm teaching this large lecture class with a handful of other people, it seems I am getting a lot to think about and will try to use this blog as the place to put it...

Today we were talking to our huge section of about 180 students about research. We had done a poll at the first class meeting and found that huge majority thought research was an important part of art and design practice, but in another question we saw that they were not necessarily so comfortable doing it. So we asked them why they didn't feel comfortable in class today and the answers came back in high school, research was a highly prescriptive process and that it relied heavily on secondary sources and received wisdom.

We kind of expected this - and that's why we were about to launch a project that addressed observational research tactics - but my colleague, Sneha Patel of Tyler's Architecture program - made this really interesting observation at that moment. She pointed out that the students seemed to be hampered by the interface of research.

This struck me as really important, as if I had been confusing the substance with the means of recognizing that substance...as if there suddenly was some sort of wall between information and informed. Observation seemed like a useful way to pull down that wall, and to stand in direct relation to the thing you're trying to understand.

Of course, primary sources are that sort of thing, too, and they may be the only available way to 'observe'' someone or something remote in time or space, but I thought that image - of a wall - was a keeper...


Monday, June 20, 2011

Artists - opportunity


NAPOLEON CALLING!


We'd like to welcome you to apply to be an original member of a new artist run project space.  In the blossoming 319 N. 11th Street building which is home to popular galleries such as Vox Populi, Grizzly Grizzly, and Tiger Strikes Asteroid, comes NAPOLEON.  NAPOLEON's mission is to give artists complete freedom to conquer space through experimentation and risk taking.  NAPOLEON offers members free reign in the space for a month a year on a rotational basis.  Members will be free to present their own work or curate a show in space 2L (225 sq. foot gallery).  Once members are chosen, there is no more jury process.

Aside from showing at NAPOLEON, members will also help run the space by attending monthly meetings, gallery sitting, maintaining the space, and helping with various administrative tasks.  While the gallery itself is the primary focus of the group, NAPOLEON could be much more. First year members will mold the reputation of the collective and set its agenda.  NAPOLEON will be a group from which artists can find community and an artistic outlet.  So, come be a NAPOLEON.


Eligibility:
  • must reside in the Philadelphia area
  • must be out of school (to avoid conflicts)
  • must commit to one full year (August 2011 to July 2012)
Dues:
  • $45 a month membership dues
  • commitment to one full year membership
  • commitment to meetings and gallery sitting
  • Application: Please email napoleon.philadelphia@gmail.com
  • 3 examples of your work (jpgs or short video)
  • an artist statement
  • a current resume
  • 3 - 4 sentences about why you'd like to be in an artist run project space (may be written in the body of the email)

Application due July 20th.  Email widely.
Thank you,
Daryl Bergman and Leslie Friedman, co-founders of Napoleon

COMING SOON!
napoleonnapoleon.com

July Show: Christopher Hartshorne, "Stark Matter." Two opening receptions! Friday July 1st and Friday July 8th. Come check out the space!

Character is victory organized 
-- Napoleon I

Monday, June 13, 2011

Some new images

These are some images from a notebook of idea for an upcoming show...more to follow soon.


Friday, May 20, 2011

Virtual Studio Tour - Slideshow

I've been meaning to put this up forever - hope you find it interesting...

Friday, April 08, 2011

Interesting participatory design project...


Thanks to Polly McKenna-Cress for posting this link to the Center for the Future of Museums, who I will now be following.

I promise to one day write something original again (though I've notices that the sun continues to rise in the east even if I don't...). For now, thanks for checking in on this blog from time to time.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Friday, February 25, 2011

Suggested readings

It's been very busy - too busy to keep up with this blog's housekeeping. I wanted to point to two things that interested me.

One was in the February 24 Washington Post Classical Beat blog. Anne Midgette makes a plea for critics to connect to others idea when publishing on line. This is a great idea - and its value to all of us comes into focus when she writes about how
A new work, in particular, is in the position of the blind men and the elephant: everyone who was there can give his or her own piece of the experience, and readers, seeing them all together, can try to amalgamate them into a larger, and more accurate, picture.
Critics' varying descriptions and assessments can offer readers a multi-dimensional view of a work. And I need that when I read...as I can't get away to see anything these days.

The other thing I wanted to link to is The Guardian UK Theatre Blog, which had an exhortation for artists to write more about their work. Not more self promotional bloggiy crap, but
a messier kind of writing, more vulnerable and yet more declamatory. Writing that is the product of a desire to speak as well as an obligation to communicate. A more restless kind of writing, devoid of neatness, riddled with ambiguities and rhetorical flourishes. Writing that expresses the same wants and preoccupations as that artist's other creative output, without needing to comment on that work. Writing suffused with generosity and fragility. The page as a canvas or a stage, as well as space for programme notes.
I have been teaching writing in art schools for a while, and I welcome this idea wholeheartedly. Writing is not something one does merely to promote oneself - it's something that can explain one's self to one's self. It is the mind at work... and that's a pretty exciting thing to read (whereas boring, jargon-laced, self-promoting 'artists' statements' are not...)

More soon. Really. I want to write about this book club I'm in and the book How Learning Works: Seven Research Based Principles for Smart Teaching. It's been interesting to think about learning instead of teaching...

Friday, October 15, 2010

Coming attractions


If you're going to be in Richmond next week, come see:

Gone But Not Forgotten: Recovering History int he 21st Century
with panelists
Jane Irish, University of Pennsylvania
Consumed By Painting: Commemorating + Reenactment +Internalitzation
Wendy Deschene, Auburn University
My Latest Inheritance
Christine Colby, The University of the Arts
The Allure of the Fantastic: Reflections of the Past...in the Present


9:45am Harrison Meeting Room of the Jefferson Hotel in sunny Richmond, VA.

Details: Curiouser
Publish Post

Monday, September 13, 2010

Found

"There is a book (or at least a glossy catalogue) yet to be written, not on the art of the '80s but on the ramifications of the art of the '80s on all of us who were too young to actually participate but old enough to be schooled in it. My sense is that much of the work produced by this group today is the visual equivalent of the poor soul who was really smart in school but never fit in socially -- you know, the one you would always get drunk at parties just to see him do something stupid and completely out of character. Hovering precariously between a critical knowledge that has resonated so loudly and for so long that it is impossible to forget and a new world that says a big whatever, we go through our art life like a conflicted Fred Flintstone, angel and devil Freds popping up out of the blue to whisper conflicting truths in our ears."
~Charles Kissick, Border Crossings, August, 2009

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Sometimes, information doesn't want to be free

(Preface: I should know better to get involved in something like this, but you can call it a weakness. On ArtFag City,  comments from Elizabeth and Ken have been very perceptive and done more than I expect to here. I posted this on a blog I use for teaching graduate seminars, but here it is again...you comments are invited)

So I wanted to talk about writing for a minute. I came across an interesting little kerfuffle online this weekend as I read ArtFag City. It seems that Paddy Johnson has been mixing it up with a writer who posts as Tremblings. At issue is Johnson's sense that Tremblings' writing engages in "linguistic privilege — the practice of using big words as means of ensuring the reader (and typically the author) doesn’t know the essay lacks substantiated ideas".

In an effort to restrain this sort of excessive privilege-taking, Johnson proposes changes, and asks a 'friend in academia' to propose further edits. In the process, words are changed, avenues of investigation are pared down, and whatever they essay's original content was is redirected in the interest of some unarticulated ideal of 'readability'.

Johnson's bias against academic writing is so obvious (the story ran under a headline "The Problem with Academic Writing Isn't Big Words") as to be not worth discussing. What is interesting is the notion - proposed here by a writer in a popular media - that an idea occurring in writing should be accessible to readers. This is opposed to another idea - that what is being written should be understood by those for whom it is written. Tremblings gets at this fine distinction in a very interesting passage:
I have to be incredibly specific in the words I use because remembrance means 35 different things to the scholars in my field. Same goes for memory, repetition, performance, etc. I have to take the time to say more than what might be necessary in some circles in order to not be perceived as misrepresenting the people I cite or the theories I believe in.
Much of this semester, I have tried to wave the banner of readability and be an advocate for prose that engages the reader. I have recited the journalistic dictum, "You are writing for an educated and curious reader who has no idea what you're talking about" as a model to which one might subscribe. But that model applies well to criticism, especially of the journalistic stripe, and not so well to other forms of academic writing.

I spent much of the day fuming about this problem inclusive and exclusive writing because it is so easy to attack exclusive practices as elitist that their value has become obscured. At the end of the day, not everything is for everyone. Some writing is for 35 peers and colleagues who are going to take issue with the ideas it contains and use those as grist to teaching seminars of 10 - 15 graduate students. Subsequently, those 350-525 graduates are going to go into their profession talking about these ideas and their audiences, students, and peers are going to form opinions about them. Gradually, the idea will move through the culture, growing and diminishing in importance as it does. All too rarely, a truly gifted scholar (a Louis Menand or Lewis Hyde or Lawrence Weschler, for instance) will figure out how to communicate directly with a larger community.

Communicate - which is to say, figure out how to make subjects relevant to that larger community so they will engage in discussion. Honestly, when is the art world going to be okay with the fact that there are differences among our interests and that not everything  is okay with everybody? Somethings may never be relevant to some people (I am struggling to figure out why Marina Abramovic, whose exhibit at MoMA started the Johnson/Tremblings argument, matters in the first place).

So what we have in academic writing (aside from the obvious allusion to Cool Hand Luke) is an opportunity to define and address one's audience, to think about community in narrower terms than the art world usually does (a dear friend of mine laments the way the artists always say 'community' when 'industry' is more appropriate) and to speak to the people who need to understand what you're doing because they're invested in the same conversation. Academic writing is not intended for everyone, but when it's done, its ideas can be examined, evaluated, disseminated, or critiqued. It is - in the most real sense - writing for a community because communities have boundaries, shared interests that place them in genuine opposition to other communities' interests. Such writing requires precision, insight, depth, and conviction.

Readability can be helpful, too. But there's a time and place for it.

Sunday, July 04, 2010

Interesting to see something you've been thinking about for a while online...


Graffiti Analysis: 3D from Evan Roth on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/12881763)

I love the cross over between 2- and 3-D, between the very straightforward and the embedded in computer technology. It reminds me of these amazing wire sculptures photographed by Marcus Raetz.



Schatten (Shadows), 1991, published by Crown Point Press

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Cannibalism

I will be doing a lot of my writing this summer on my Criticism Seminar's blog. If you want to follow it, you can take a peek over there...

Criticism Seminar Summer, 2010: Beyond the pale (some thoughts on the craft of writing)

Friday, June 11, 2010

Dangerous minds - part 2

In the first post on Dangerous Minds, I think I was too general when I moved away from exaggerated emblems for intelligence (big brains) to scientists...so here's a new attempt to get to the point.
First, a disclaimer. Most of these images were suggested by Fernando Vidal's essay Ectobrains in the Movies in the Getty's The Fragment: An Incomplete History. The above image comes from a 1953 film called Donovan's Brain (a trailer is on YouTube). In a nut shell, the brain of a deadman goes looking for a body to rule. Good times.
I've not yet seen the Brain that Wouldn't Die, but it sounds like a winner in this genre. Part of what I think creeps us out about brains is tied up in mortality. And if your decapitated girlfriend's brain must be kept alive at all costs, well there's a potent symbol for you...


 I'm sooo into this image from The Fiend without a Face (Science gone wild!). Too bad it seems the brains tend to go invisible when they hunt.

...one could only wish the brain in The Brain were a little less visible. I can see a few Spanish dub versions of the film have made it online, but it may be time for some Netflicks research...


Finally, when Vidal mentions Steve Martin in The Man With Two Brains, all I can think of this this more recent analog....



I have a few more up my sleeve, but they will require some video rentals. Meanwhile I hope you enjoyed this installation of Dangerous Minds....

Okay, back to thinking about writing...

Time to get ready for the summer seminar, and to think about writing a little more...both in the traditional sense and in the expanded way I was trying to get at in the last post.

I was interested in Laura Miller's Salon post, The Hyperlink War, that some how came to my attention yesterday. Now that I only write once in a very blue moon (I mean for people to read...), I have missed the raging debate she describes between those who feel that incorporating hyperlinks into the body of the writing is beneficial and those who find it too distracting and prefer them clustered at the end of the text.

There has been a lot in the media about being distracted lately, and about how the way information is coming to us is 'changing' us as a species. Steven Pinker poo-poos the idea in today's New York Times, the same paper that started the debate a few days ago with a review of The Invisible Gorilla (by Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons) that made it sound like we have no freaking idea what's going around us. Another winner was Matt Ritchel's story of a profoundly distracted and horribly over-privileged family in San Francisco that cannot unplug for five minutes.

My personal favorite entry in this debate came out in the stone age - I mean, in 2008 - when the Atlantic ran an essay by Nicholas Carr that asked if Google was making us stupid. I like Carr's essay because I identify with his description of the Algernon-effect (notice I didn't stick a link there???) that comes with using the Internet to get at information. I think this is what Miller is bothered by, too - the way the texture of a piece of writing is disturbed by the inclusion of pointers beyond the boundaries of that piece of writing. (Okay, specifically, Miller thinks that using hypertext links in writing is lazy because it alleviates the responsibility to explain things in your own writing...but I see these things as connected.)

And while I can share in Carr and Miller's pique, I wonder if maybe writing (and therefore, reading) ought be recognized as fundamentally different from speech, just as pictures of spaces are fundamentally different form the spaces they depict. When I teach writing, I try to impress upon my students that 'good' writing works like perspective in visual art - it seems to rationalize the space in the text and make it continuous with our world, not to call attention to itself. I'm fascinated by style in writing and visual art, but more interested in it when it creeps up on me - when fantastic ideas and images are teased out of a world that seems connected to the one I know and understand, where the progree toward the strange and wonderful is barely noticed. When things begin in a strange and stylized space, they can seem mannered and thin. But I digress.

Clearly, we need better writing, better art, things that can capture our attention and hold it - not more that can apparently be consumed in seconds, making room for the next thing. Which brings me to an idea Robin Rice floated in a review of the Bravo's Work of Art.

Already, judges have floated the suggestion that successful art (like a successful television show) should clearly communicate something specific or should be marketable. This trivializes the potential of art; some of the best art, indeed, is murky and contradictory. The show is not likely to favor artists who are oblique or subtle or conceptual.
What is good writing, what is good art? These questions matter because writing and art matter to us - they embody our culture, the are the ways in which we pass things on to one another in our own time...nevermind future generations. We all have a stake in figuring out what is 'good' and why.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to do some work.