We’re still working out a lot of Andy Warhol’s ideas, I thought, as I looked at several of the images on MainStreet Truth or Consequences’ Facebook page, which sponsored a second virtual Art Hop in the ongoing shut-down of galleries in the age of COVID-19.
Is this the same strain of nostalgia for the Pop Art of the 60s and 70s I see in K-Pop? South Korea’s boy bands, such as BTS, EXO and NCT, are taking cultural quotes from the Beatles, Bruce Lee, advertising of that era, as well as comic-book imagery as they soar to the top of music charts all over the world.
Or maybe Warhol was so accurately predictive—mass culture and fine art would become indistinguishable—that we have arrived. Artists swim in the same international mass-media soup—Campbell’s Soup—and their imagery partakes of it, from Seoul to Truth or Consequences.
There are several works with a Pop look among the Art Hop submissions, but three were especially notable.
Crockett, (no first name given), submitted a series of seven paintings, acrylic on board, of a cartoon-like man in a face mask, titled “We’re a Tight Group, We Stick Together.”
Serializing imagery is a Warhol signature, subtly changing each frame to suggest a machine is churning it out while a human hand edits and refines the end product and Crockett’s work has the same effect.
He has what looks like newspaper print and other graphic textures in the background, similar to Warhol’s car wreck series or Pop artist James Rosenquist’s paintings, expressing the ubiquitousness of media and our “horror vacui” if this noise is removed.
Crockett also consistently spray paints a pink streak, recalling the rise of graffiti art of the 60s and 70s that literally brought art into the streets. Those older styles of graffiti art are enjoying a revival as well by the way.
Also akin to Pop Art is the depersonalization of the subject matter. The Pop Artists of the 60s and 70s were reacting against the Abstract Expressionists’ subjective emotionalism. Crockett’s men are so similar they look like the same man, similarly eradicating individualism for the “Tight Group” in the title.
Lindsay D. Williams’s “Jornada del Muerto” does not give the materials in her submission, but it may be acrylic and gouache on paper, as listed in other works.
She contrasts the plastic density of acrylic with the chalky brightness of the gouache, land and sky respectively. Williams’s sky reminds me of cheerful Pop artist Peter Max. Her land elements use comic-book techniques, which Pop artists, such as Roy Lichtenstein, also lifted and quoted in their fine-art paintings.
Williams’s clear graphic simplification of each element is pure Pop, as are the contrast of bright colors and black outlines. She has refined her aesthetic into a brand, instantly recognizable, which is extremely hard to do and very rare. And she’s done it by courting mass-media-looking techniques. Somehow she has captured Warhol’s same dichotomy—a no-man, anonymous authorship which could only have been done by one author. Bravo.
I may be stretching the Pop Art analogy a bit with Martye Allen’s “Labs make the best bird dogs,” but hear me out. Consider the square format and white border, which nearly mimics a polaroid-photo format, with its simplification of color and form.
Pop Art also used the same simplification, harsh cropping and severe foreshortening (in the dog’s nose), imitating comic-book frames and advertising.
And doesn’t the yellow bird sitting above the dog’s head look like a comic-book thought bubble?
The brushwork and texture are undoubtedly more painterly than Pop, I’ll grant you. But the humor in the dog-bird juxtaposition and tai chiing the bird-dog function from hunter to befriender of birds is Pop, which rebelled against heavy art lectures and loved humor and irony, which are sorely needed now.