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Rothko is boring, and most people pretending to get some great emotional response from his work are faking it.
have you ever seen his work in person?
I have and I agree with tuna noodle.
With the exception of historically/culturally significant pieces in their respective medium, museums are nothing more than institutions for visually scamming rich morons and art charlatans.
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I haven't been to the chapel, but have seen his work in person. I like the work in general, and can appreciate it. All these people claiming to be moved to tears and whatnot, I just don't get it. It doesn't speak to me.
I don't like Basquiat either.
I feel ya. White yuppies like to get into a religious fervor about paintings to seem smart and deep and it's annoying.
If you hear these people spouting in real life about their artistically-inclined gift of perception and what they claim each painting represents/makes them feel, you'll fall over laughing at their horseshit.
How said scam works - once someone is "disovered", the market value of an artist's "work" is established through proper protocols. Then it's about manufactuing as many shitty pieces of art while maintaining the illusion of scarcity and exclusiveness. I don't care for Banksy in general but Exit Through the Gift Shop does an excellent job at displaying the process, and the importance of the audience needing to be fooled. Be it shitty stencil "street art" or another hack like Rothko, the process is the same. Listen to how the believers talk about brush strokes on a piece of shit canvas with some random lines and a few wonky squares. Rich. Criticism involving common sense when it comes to contemporary art is always loaded, so if you don't agree with their dumb rhetoric, you're instantly labelled as someone who "doesn't get it". It's as hilarious as off-putting and asinine. Contemporary art is for kooked dedicated liars.
Basquiat should've stuck to just writing poetry on the streets, some of his words were actually moving. Then Warhol the hack saw him as dollar signs and turned him into an insufferable hip dood under the false pretense of guidance. Typical in the art world. Any world, really.