[Note: This is post #1 in the Blogiversary II series.]
“How did we go from Rembrandt to Kinkade?” I asked, in a post marking the reopening of my weekend feature, The Gallery. I knew that even a mildly critical mention of Thomas Kinkade, the Painter of Light, would spark controversy and it didn’t take long before admirers of his work came to his defense. In the second comment, Bevets added an interesting perspective:
Suppose you had never heard of Kincaid and you saw one of his paintings in a respectable art gallery. Suppose you found out that Kincaid cut off his ear and died a long time ago without any money. Can you say with certainty that your opinion of his aesthetics would be the same?
That’s an excellent question. Can I be certain that my opinion of his aesthetics would be the same?
Absolutely.
To show why I am confident in my opinion, let’s examine two works of art on similar themes. Both are images of the Water Tower in Chicago. Both have a carriage, trees, and people with umbrellas. In fact, the paintings are almost identical in theme and content.
And yet the first is unquestionably technically superior. The use of texture and shadow puts the viewer within the picture. You can almost feel the cold Chicago air and hear the sounds of the serene yet bustling city. The second painting, however, distances the viewer from the scene. Light is overused (notice the light coming from every window and the background lights that resemble a brushfire), presenting a faux golden glow that is unrealistic and dull. And the carriage, though more sharply drawn than in the other painting, is two-dimensional and distracting. While the first work is worthy of gracing a museum wall, the second is only worthy of garnishing a cheap greeting card.
As you could probably guess, the second painting is by Thomas Kinkade, circa 2004.
But what about the first painting, the more aesthetically superior rendition of the Water Tower? It too is by Thomas Kinkade. He painted it in 1998.
This is what is so distressing about Thomas Kinkade: he is both a creator of some of the most inspiring paintings of the past two decades and a producer of some of the worst schlock ever manufactured by a talented artist.
Both the harshest critics and the keenest admirers of Kinkade’s work, however, tend to be unfamiliar with his more meritable paintings. But it is his oft-overlooked cityscapes and early mountain scenes that truly reveal his keen eye, technical brilliance, and aesthetic sensitivity. Take, for example, his use of various shades of red in San Francisco, 1909 or his subtle use of white light in his depiction of the Yukon town of Dawson.
Kinkade is at his best when he captures the human side of cities, such as in New York, Central Park at Sixth Avenue. But just as a baker can ruin a suburb dessert by adding to much sugar, Kinkade can lose the sense of a place by attempting to romanticize a scene. His San Francisco, Late Afternoon at Union Square perfectly captures the mood of a city street after a rain. Yet three years later, painting the almost exact same scene, he clogs it with color until it loses the magic of his previous work. The first street scene was about a place, San Francisco; the second scene is about a different place, the consumer’s living room wall.
But Kinkade is best known for his cottage and nature scenes, so it is there that the bulk of critical attention must be placed.
It was nine paintings into his oeuvre that he attempted his first cottage scene. The Blue Cottage differs from much of the later variations on the theme because of its simplicity in its use of light and color. But it also contains something missing from almost all of his later cottage paintings: humans.
Kinkade justifies the absence of people in his picturesque scenarios because he doesn’t want to exclude any viewers from being able to step into the fantasy. "When you paint people, you limit people," Kinkade explains, offering the example of a hypothetical Vietnamese-American family. "Why would they want to look at a picture of a dozen white people sitting around a Thanksgiving table?"
What the artist fails to understand is that Vietnamese-Americans (as well as African-, Mexican-, Chinese, and other hyphenated Americans) probably do not share the Anglo-American cottage fantasy. And his cottage scenes are precisely that: fantasies. Adults hang paintings of Kinkade’s paintings of cottages in their living room for the same reason that little girls put posters of unicorns and rainbows on their bedroom walls. It is a pseudo-referential nostalgia, a longing for what does not exist in reality but exists in the fantasy realm of possibility.
No other painting epitomizes this nostalgia for a place that never existed better than Cottage by the Sea. As Kinkade explains:
Though this cottage doesn't exist anywhere but in my painting, I think for many of us it represents an ideal seaside getaway. Of course, I had to paint the scene at sunset. After all, what would a seaside cottage be without a beautiful sunset to watch?
What is so dispiriting about this painting is that rather than being created in order to be challenging or even inspiring, it's intended only to be comforting. It invites the viewer to enter a world of unnatural nature, a world where the “light” comes from within, and the warmth comes not from the receding sun but from inside the walls of the perfect Anglo shelter. The cottage is a self-contained safe place where the viewer can shut himself in and get away from the harsh realities of creation, particularly away from other people. The Cottage by the Sea offers a place where the viewer can enter the perfect world of Kinkade's creation -- and escape the messy world of Kinkade’s Creator.
Related:
David Bruce of the Hollywood Jesus News also admires Kinkade as a person and artist yet notes:
Kinkade's paintings represent the problem with Christian art in the postmodern era. Most of his paintings are of isolated family cottages with gorgeously lit windows filled with light coming from within the home. He is called the painter of lights. Most of his paintings are devoid of people. On those rare occasions, when he does depict people, they are usually from some by gone era -the so-called good old days. All his paintings are pleasant, and peaceful, yet devoid of any kind of conflict or connection to the real world. This pleasant non conflict style is why the Evangelical Christian community has not produced one single world-class painter in the 20th century. Not one. And, there are none on the horizon.
1
Kinkade definitely has a place within the art pantheon, right next to Andy Warhol on the wall of a Motel 6 room. Besides, the Motel 6 corporate slogan is perfect for him.
posted on 10.10.2005 7:22 AM2
Oh NO! You're bring up Kinkade again! People, run for you lives!
posted on 10.10.2005 8:24 AM3
What this curious about the two paintings is that the superior one came first. I think it is called "guilding the lilly." I do it all the time in my scrimshaw art.
posted on 10.10.2005 9:12 AM4
It is well known that as Kinkade became an industry, more of his paintings literally became mass produced. You can't do that and not lose something.
I disagree strongly that there are no world-class Christian painters in the 20th century. I own some world-class art by world-class Christian painters. They are powerful, stunning works by accomplished artists who not only painted, but taught at the collegiate level in highly respected art schools.
The problem is that Christians--once the biggest benefactors--no longer support the arts, so Christian artists labor in obscurity even as they are producing works every bit as good or better than what is out there in the secular ranks. That's the real crime here.
posted on 10.10.2005 10:25 AM5
In the preface to Screwtape Letters, doesn't C.S.Lewis talk about a similar change in the depictions of angels (and presumably the supernatural in general) in art?
From "FEAR NOT!" to "There, there..."
posted on 10.10.2005 11:51 AM6
The problem is that Christians--once the biggest benefactors--no longer support the arts...
Christians do support the arts -- sort of.
As long as "the arts" mean Chick Tracts, Kincade Cottage Paintings, Bible-story retellings, altar-call conversion stories, or End Time Prophecy fiction (aka Left Behind: the Knockoffs).
It's a lot like Socialist Realism under Comrade Stalin -- toe The Party Line in every jot & tittle or be damned.
Or like Furry Fandom, where the fanboys will swallow anything as long as the characters have fur and tails. And only characters with fur and tails.
Me? I'd rather go mainstream.
posted on 10.10.2005 11:55 AM7
I saw the 60 Minutes story about Kincade and that was really my first exposure to the painter. I was disgusted by what I saw. I saw a man take a mass-produced print, dab a couple of dots of gold and sell it for tens of thousands of dollars. I saw a man scrawling a well-honed half second "autograph" onto the back of a painting and likewise sell it for an exorbitant sum of money. The thing that angered me the most was when he said that he was a better artist than Picasso because he had made more money than Picasso, and that is what really counts.
Art is a complicated thing, but at its core is an understanding that beauty can exist for its own sake. The reason that many of the greatest artists die poor and ignored is that they created their art not for money or for acclaim, but because there was a vision of beauty and an understanding of reality that existed within them that demanded expression in their work. Technical skill allows an artist to find the perfect way to express this, even when their work completely ignores the rigors of skill (my high school art history teacher, a wonderful Christian woman, said that we learn the rules so we can then break them). Good art makes you think, makes you stare and wonder and have a deep longing to understand what the artist was feeling when s/he created the work. Thomas Kincade's paintings make you smile for a moment and then walk away.
Kincade's obsession with making money and painting happy scenes to be reproduced ad infinitum is a repudiation of what art is at its best. I will say I had never seen those earlier works and I felt them to be interesting at least and far more engaging, but I'll stick to Rembrandt (the best painter who ever lived, in my humble opinion), Renoir, Klimt and Mondrian.
posted on 10.10.2005 2:44 PM8
Kinkade fills a niche. Frankly, both my wife and I can appreciate some of Kinkade's work (we're particularly fond of "Christmas at the Ahwahnee"). Our fondness for this piece in no way stifles her love for Van Gogh's "Starry Night" or mine for Moreau's "Salome Dancing Before Herod".
To paraphrase Solomon, there's "a time to be challenged and a time to be comforted."
The childish scream of all critics is, "They don't like what I told them they should!"
posted on 10.11.2005 9:10 AM9
Is there any good Christian Fiction being written? Outside of Fantasy (Tolkien, CS Lewis, Stephen Lawhead) most of the Christian fiction is like a Fanny Crosby hymn - good, not great.
I think that you hit upon it with the absence of conflict. As Christians we are tired tired tired of the gritty realism of most of the world's art. I really could have done without Mel Gibson's scene of putting his gun in his mouth (Was that in 'Lethal Weapon'?).
But without conflict there is no art. Unfortunately, the only conflict that most Americans can imagine is the temptation of lust - is that because they are consumed with lust. And I will absolutely not read another book with a explicit bedroom scene.
When a truly cutting edge Christian artist arrives, he will be able to describe conflict without dragging us through the filth that the world spews out.
posted on 10.11.2005 12:03 PM10
There are Christians making good art - I happen to know a few personally. One is Doug Merkey, a man I went to seminary with. He has done some good sculpture which can bee seen at his site. Check out "Forgiven and Restored"
And the Fancis Schaeffer Institute at Covenant Seminary in St. Louis works hard to bring a Christian worldview to the arts through art exhibits, lectures and concerts. You can check it out here.
posted on 10.11.2005 4:47 PM11
Sorry - "bee" = be and "Fancis" = Francis.
Preview is my friend.
posted on 10.11.2005 4:52 PM12
Greg Olsen is a favorite Christian artist of ours...
http://www.gregolsengallery.com/
posted on 10.12.2005 1:24 PM