More Defense of Mumbling.
From April 17, 2006
One of my favorite PICA lectures last year was Hans Weigand and Raymond Pettibon. More theater than theory - these friends, band-mates and killer artists - are not defined by their chattering but by their work.
Crinkum Crankum - Pettibon and Weigand
Pettibon inflamed some people- we were accused of making him our "minstrel" and professors at local art schools were horrified that their students might be influenced by incoherence. There was however an equally powerful group in the crowd who worshiped him and were filled with glee that he was who he was. My favorite moment in the Pettibon "lecture" was when he flipped to a slide showing a drawing of a Dollar bill- there was a pained silence, and then a shuffling of the feet, and he said- "This is a swastika (pause pause - really long pause) Oh, I mean a dollar bill".
His look doesn't matter: Everyone loves Raymond
The reluctant Pettibon shows up at his opening in dirty clothes. But he's a star in the art world.
By James Verini, Special to The Times
April 15, 2006
There are two types of people at a typical Raymond Pettibon opening. One type is drawn to the epigrams and discomfiting punch lines buried in Pettibon's seemingly blithe drawings and paintings - serious folks who like to be seriously poked in the eye by art. Then there are the cheerier souls who come to see another beach bum play with cartoons.
Both were out in force at the Regen Projects gallery last Saturday for Pettibon's new show, which is up until May 6. A mix of the grave and the merry sipped glasses of cheap white gallery wine and walked in slow circles around Regen's big atrial room, some glowering, some smiling at Pettibon's waves, trains and baseball players, which were pinned to the walls as though they'd just been torn from his sketchpad (his preferred style of presentation).

Pettibon loomed in the corner, looking as if he'd just been torn from something himself. Judging from his dirty white Jamaica tourist T-shirt, stained plaid-patterned trousers and sooty slip-on Vans, it might have been art or possibly something refuse-related.
<< | Posted on April 17, 2006 at 10:13 AM | >>
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I'm just goint to post my same comment from below (the Jim Drain entry) up here, since it seems apropos and this is the current thread. At the risk of aggravating Adam Forkner, I'll point out that his post (about which he is ambivalent, but which I think was excellent) appears below at the top of the Jim Drain thread. So:
I just came upon this. I thought Adam's first comment was really insightful. Jim's beautiful art should not oblige him to be historic or theoretical or a lecturer. It is strange to ask him to be these things, and I think Adam rightly locates the presumptions or orthodoxies that invite, or force, an artist to function this way in "silly, backwards thinking modernist responsibilities (origin of a singular style, individuality of voice, etc etc)." I'm perfectly happy for Jim, or earlier in Harrel's series, Chris Johansen, to shirk these responsibilities and just go on making awesome art, and I don't understand why we ask these artists to lecture. It seems to be a standard academic convention. Asking someone to lecture is the way a school expresses its interest and (importantly) passes a paycheck to deserving artists. But can't we think of something more relevant and productive to do with these resources (the school, the artists' smarts and time, our time and intellects)? This is 2006 and we should think of something better.
Public speaking can be great. There are people, including many artists, who are superb speakers, who think and articulate complex thoughts while standing in front of an audience. It's fucking awesome to be at a great lecture. Has anyone seen Rem Koolhaas speak? His talk is so moving and so relentlessly thought-provoking, a lot like Chris's art, or Jim's performances. But I wouldn't ask Rem to play in Forcefield. That would just invite a ridiculous cult of personality, which is what the veneration of a great artist's inarticulateness seems like to me.
I hope we can make up some new conventions for bringing the artists among us into public discourse. If they don't like speaking to crowds, don't make them lecture. Don't ask audiences to sit through performances of inarticulacy. I'd like to see lectures by artists who believe in speaking and aspire to do it well. I'd like to see support for other great artists to do other things. Maybe the money for lectures could be used to commission work that's public or occassion-specific, but that isn't a lecture. Maybe the artists can be given an honorarium and allowed to pay part of it to a speaker he or she admires.
Posted by Matthew Stadler @ April 18, 2006 10:21 AM