04 LOVE/HATE: On the Necessity of Hate

SYNOPSIS. In which passion starts to get boring. On the loveliness of hate. On the value of said hatred. Where the author name-drops Virginia Woolf, James Joyce, and Marina Abramović for Google’s sake. In which the typical cries for integrity, honesty, etc threaten to drown out the hatred in the previous 350 words.

OKAY, HERE'S WHERE THINGS GET A LITTLE DODGY

I love art. Or did. I speak about it with passion and a general good nature. But that can get boring.

So I don’t keep quiet about my hate. I hate a lot of art. Deeply. This means I won’t always be friendly towards an artist or a work that many people love. That’s just how it goes. For instance, Andy Warhol? Yeah. Hate that guy.

Here's one reason why:

Heinz Tomato Ketchup Box, 1964, Andy Warhol

silkscreen ink and house paint on plywood

© The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc.

Naturally, the fact I hate him will have no effect on his place in art history or his influence on other artists. I think what he did was stimulating, but in a cheap way. He’s the three-penny vibrator of the artworld. 

If I hate something, that doesn’t mean that the art or artist in question has no value. On the contrary, it’s the things we hate the most that often give us insights into who we are, what we value, and where we are lacking (clearly I’ve never used a three-penny vibrator or I’d change my mind about it/him). For instance, I hated Jackson Pollock for most of my adult life. I now have more respect for him. But the respect I have for Pollock wouldn’t have had the solid basis it has now if it weren’t for that lovely, offensive baseline of hate. Also, I finally engaged his work. For real.

I AM NOT ALONE

I know that many people have similar feelings. I love Henry Miller. Others hate him. I love/hate James Joyce. Others are indifferent to him. I adore Virginia Woolf. Others find her insufferable. The list goes on and on and applies to genres as well. I hate most performance art (but am fascinated by Marina Abramović). That doesn’t mean it has no value and I will engage with performance artists at every opportunity in order to discover something of what makes them valuable or interesting to others. You know what they say. A half-billion people can’t be all wrong. (I also don’t believe that) 

If my work is to have any value, it must be undertaken honestly, with integrity and with a willingness to engage with things that repulse me. After all, humanity may be nice, but it’s pretty ugly as well. That’s what art engages and that is what I, as an artist, a father, a man, and a human being must do as well.

POSTSCRIPT. In addition to all of the above, I've discovered that feelings of Love and Hate tend to shortcut thinking. The pesky (and lovely) thing about thinking is that it often complicates these feelings. It's the complication itself that is delicious.

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