How to See: Looking, Talking, and Thinking about Art

by David Salle

A master class in contemporary art by one of the preeminent painters of our time. How does art work ? How does it move us, inform us, challenge us? Internationally renowned painter David Salle’s incisive essay collection illuminates the work of many of the most influential artists of the twentieth century. Engaging with a wide range of Salle’s friends and contemporaries―from painters to conceptual artists such as Jeff Koons, John Baldessari, Roy Lichtenstein, and Alex Katz, among others― How to See explores not only the multilayered personalities of the artists themselves but also the distinctive character of their oeuvres. Salle writes with humor and verve, replacing the jargon of art theory with precise and evocative descriptions that help the reader develop a personal and intuitive engagement with art. The result: a master class on how to see with an artist’s eye. 30 illustrations

Genres: Art, Nonfiction, Art History, Design, Essays, Audiobook, Unfinished

288 pages, Hardcover

Published October 18, 2016

Reviews

[Stacey · Rating 1 out of 5]

Aw, what to say, what to say...

Correct me if I'm wrong but, as I understood it, this was supposed to be a book to help non-artists SEE art, and feel part of the country club. As a painter I can tell you there is no way this book will change anything for people who don't already know the art of the past five or six decades. In fact, once you get past some very intelligent and spot-on comments (which, though I should have known better, is how I got lured in but which is by no means an indicator of what awaits), you'll see it's just more us-and-THEM for non-artists and more Those-Guys-Again?! for the rest of us.

David Salle got very famous making lame but sincere paintings. In How to See (or 2. to 1. How 3. See) he goes into great detail about his number one art hero (Sigmar Polke... sweet baby Jesus...) and he speaks lovingly about the work of all his close personal friends - most of whom are/were equally lame and famous or maybe just a tad overrated but not totally sucky (Katz being the one notable exception... Don't know about Armitage but it really is time to move on, isn't it?). When, of all the brilliant films Salle chose to discuss, he picked (oh God, here it comes) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, directed by former king daddy of the Art mag cover boys (and presumed art legend), Julien Schnabel (not lame but definitely WAY overrated), you know everything you're reading is biased by personal friendships. If none of these people were pals who would have been left out? Who else might have been included?

I never liked Salle's work (I HATE Polke) and don't care for most of the artists he's serving up here but... Salle always comes off as such a nice guy I really WANT to like what he does. But I can't. Moreover, I was really surprised by the attachment to the old clique (STILL so insecure? After all these years?). Maybe there are readers who know Salle's work who will get something out of this. SOMEONE likes his stuff. But it's not a book for anyone who knows nothing about art or for anyone who isn't impressed. I really tried but just couldn't. DNF, sorry.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I was in art college in the 1980s, David Salle was one of Les Efants Terribles of the art world. His art was bold, brash and controversial. I went down a different path and pretty much lost interest in the artist.

So it surprised me recently when an artist friend passed on this 2016 publication of a collection of essays. Apart from making art, he wrote some very interesting opinions on the art world over the last couple of decades.

For an art lover, a young artist or even a seasoned one, there is some good stuff here. Salle can be very astute, funny, perhaps a tad snobbish and even brilliant as he surmises on “looking, talking, and thinking about art” (his tag line). The subjects vary from Alex Katz, Sigmar Polke, Jeff Koons, Frank Stella to John Baldesarri. Big name artists which most Salle can call as friends. Perhaps a little too much name dropping at times but this is his world. Of course there are a host of lesser known artists too.

What impressed me were his articles on the more historical artists like Picabia, Derain and Piero Della Francesca. He really has a keen observant eye. It’s always good to look back to where we are going forward.

Of course the article I related to the most was “The ‘80s - What were they good for?” A most thoughtful view on his world, but perhaps just as cynical. These artists made a great income and launched their careers. Flash in the pan or art darlings. They inspired a lot of others. And then art changed. Ah, that is art. Nothing stays the same.

I will leave it to a line Salle quotes by W.H. Auden, “We were put on this earth to make things.” As he notes, “a beautiful line. You can trust it.”

I agree.

[Anonymous · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is not very good.... and is not about "How to See." It's mostly a compilations of articles that David Salle wrote for various publications which has been crammed into some kind of structure about "How to Give Form an Idea" "Being An Artist" "Art in the World" and "Pedagogy and Polemics." The articles in the book hardly address these themes or "Looking, Talking, and Thinking about Art." This book is mostly David Salle telling us various things, mostly just describing works of art and he hardly shows us anything, certainly not showing us "how to see" as the title suggests.

This book might be a good intro for people who want an Art 101 of names and artists to know about, but aside from that the book was rather bland to me, written like how art is presented on NPR. I appreciate that it's not snobby and academic but overall it's rather flat, unenergetic, and delivers no revelations either. The train of his thought is very flimsy, whimsical, and almost random; and it usually goes nowhere. A chapter might start off with an interesting premise, and then doesn't even go on to discuss that topic. He probably imagines it does, illustrated by the artists he chooses to discuss but the connections are vague. (Example: "Painting is one of the few things in life for which youth holds no advantage." This could be a very intriguing topic - what it means to age as an artist, but he abandons the topic in about four sentences to talk about two specific older artists, and the work they made as an "older" person - but he talks about the way they depict edges in their paintings, hardly going into "Old Guys Painting" - as the chapter is called).

Almost every chapter reads the same - Salle describes art and how it looks, similar to reading a music review of an album. This never interested me - why do I need to hear someone describe what a song sounds like? I can just go hear the music. His descriptions are quite plain and about what the work contains, and makes a lot of well rounded, educated comparisons, but it's all rather safe and simple. Each chapter also is an opportunity for him to drop an anecdote about how he knew that artist (and of course, his acquaintance qualifies him even more to write about the subject). He repeats himself endlessly about themes that are very basic "inside energy" of a painting -- I don't know... I didn't get anything out of reading this. His personal "taste" seems entirely based on knowing all of the things he is "supposed" to know as an artist and producer/consumer of culture, rather than that of passionate interest. Thus my interest and excitement was hardly stirred at all.

This book should have just been called "David Salle: Collected Writings" and be directed towards people who like art and maybe make it but lack a basic foundation of knowing about many artists. Otherwise - this book will not teach you about "How to See" or provide any insight or depth into how to make artwork. Maybe it could show you how to write about art in an "earnest" way -- but please! Don't mimic his writing style. It doesn't achieve much.

[Anna C · Rating 2 out of 5]

What the book advertises itself as: A user-friendly guide to aesthetics. An instruction manual for non-artists or amateur artists on how to actually *look* at a painting and grasp what it's doing. Prose that is, to quote the back of the book, full of "humor and verve," free of "the jargon of art theory."

What the book actually is: A collection of overwrought essays on modern artists from 30 years ago that Salle knows personally and is good buddies with. Over-written, florid prose. Inaccessible to anyone who isn't already intimately familiar with the trends of modern art, especially the New York School. And a particular gripe: long, detailed descriptions of paintings you don't actually get to see. There are a few low-quality black and white reproductions at the start of every chapter, but you'll spend half your time on this book just Googling all of Salle's references and name drops.

There were some interesting bits I did highlight and copy down for later. And I also really appreciated Salle's critique of intentionality. However, all the bits I enjoyed were in the introduction and conclusion. The essays themselves didn't do anything for me, and all my margin notes are talking back to Salle about how out of touch and elitist his commentary sounds.

Read it next to your computer.

Or just read the introduction in the bookstore.

Or better yet, don't read it at all.

[Sophie · Rating 2 out of 5]

There were about 3-4 essays I truly enjoyed and found helpful to read as an artist. Otherwise I’d skip this book or make sure to skim for best content. It’s not a cover to cover book. Blah

[Claude Lingen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Salle’s book is an erudite personal consideration of Post Conceptual Art painting and is rather disdainful of Conceptual Art. He considers intention (intentionality) overrated. “When I hear an artist utter the words “ This work is about….” it makes my heart sink".
(Pg. 255-256). In addition, he does not agree with much of contemporary Installation Art or Presentation Art.

If you are a painter this book will bolster many of your ideas, if you work in contemporary multi media, conceptual oriented fields, you will not find any consolation. Nevertheless, it will give you an insight into what’s on the minds of many painters today.

[Bill Brookover]

meh. Part IV: Pedagogy and Polemics was the best part, especially "A Talk For the First Day of Class", real life advice for art students of all ages. Book needs good photos and a good editor.

[Jeffrey Bumiller · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was really enjoyable even though it was over my head at times (I don't know much about this world). I learned a lot about artists that I was already interested in (Frank Stella, Lichtenstein, Picabia). I also discovered some artists that I want to get to better (Amy Sillman, Christopher Wool, Vito Acconci). An eye opening book, Ha!

[Bernie Michalik · Rating 4 out of 5]

It assumes you know something of modern art but it’s worth reading with your computer nearby t look up references. You’ll learn so much about modern art by the time you are done.

[Tyler Horton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Worthwhile but not overwhelmingly good. If you want to give more modern art a shot on its own terms, this is a good way to do so. The material makes in tough, in some ways, to take this as an audiobook but it does allow you to look at the art in question while the narration carries on.

[Tobi ﾄﾋﾞ · Rating 2 out of 5]

you know those pieces of art that almost definitely cost a lot of money because rich people use them as a method to money launder and as a way to seem intellectually superior to the working peasants? this book could’ve been about how to see art and discussed amazing works by underrepresented groups of people (in the art word, that’s basically anyone except white european men) and how art is so diverse etc etc etc.

this book is not that.

[Grant Catton · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book should have been titled: "How I See the Work of My Friends." It's basically just David Salle going through artist after artist, that he knows/knew personally (most of the time), and saying why he likes them. Fair enough, I guess. But not what I expected.

David Salle is super smart and articulate, no question. And there are some choice nuggets of wisdom in here, but they are rare and they are interspersed between what is basically page after page of Salle just kind of pontificating in very ethereal terms about paintings not pictured in the book. So unless you're prepared to read it with your phone open, googling some new work of art every two paragraphs, it's kind of a slog.

I find Salle super interesting usually, and had high hopes for this book. But I rented it from the library rather than buying it, and I'm glad I did. I feel no need to revisit this book or keep it around.

[Kathleen · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is apparently a collection of Salle's essays and critiques on modern art. If you are not familiar with modern art and the artists that he has chosen to critique, it can be rather mind-numbing. The book needs more pictures along with the essays to fully understand his points. I found myself having to search the internet to view paintings he mentioned many times. So it felt more like a research project than an easy, enjoyable read. Also the book isn't really organized so well, I thought, probably because some of his essays don't fit well with others.

When I finished this book, I thought "meh". But a few weeks later, as I write these comments, I must admit that I have thought about his observations and insights. I'm looking forward to seeing the Picabia exhibit at the MOMA, and I'll probably reread that chapter before going.

[Ric Dragon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great book of essays. Many underlinings.

[Lisa · Rating 2 out of 5]

I picked up this book to learn more about line, form, light, and color to analyze artwork. I don't care for commentary and straight opinion. But this collection of reviews offers little information about interpreting art. The few author descriptions of the art include depicting color and line but the book has no color plates to help understand what he means. After a while, searching online to find images wasn't worth the effort. The reviews are out of context and not very useful without the works, which is especially a problem with the performing arts. His primary purpose seems to name drop. The author has no reason to refer to Roy and Andy except to make himself an insider and that distracts from the essay. He doesn't teach the reader how to see at all.

[Lauren Albert · Rating 3 out of 5]

I ended up skimming through this. I didn't know many of the artists and with, at most, one black and white picture, it was hard to make sense of his opinions. The essays on artists I do know just didn't do anything for me.

[M. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I won this book in a contest and I LOVED it. Easy to read. Highly recommended, especially if you love art and don't know why!

[Fraser Kinnear · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some great essays! On art today:

When I hear an artist utter the words “This work is about . . . ,” it makes my heart sink. I’ve always felt that intentionality is overrated—not that it’s irrelevant but that it’s been overstressed, and art schools have encouraged this approach. In the ’80s and ’90s critics routinely asked me, “Why do it in painting?” Which I felt was the wrong question to ask, because it assumes that one chooses painting and uses it to illustrate an idea. I don’t think the medium one employs necessarily defines the character of the art...

Art yesterday:

A brief historical perspective. Although my MFA graduating class of 1975 didn’t know it at the time, the decades-long hegemony of formalist, minimalist-inflected art that had been championed by Artforum and so-called advanced museums was coming to an end. Sometime around 1974 I overheard someone ask the poet and critic David Antin, “What have you been doing these past years?” To which David, always quick on the draw, replied: “Waiting for minimalism to die.” That’s what many of us were doing, and it took a long time. A clear power structure had dominated the New York art scene, and by extension the international one, for years, and it operated in a narrow, exclusionary, hierarchical, and isolationist manner.

Art forever:

Art history—what does it mean for a painter? Most painting is a conversation between continuity and novelty. The latter will get you attention, which can be habit forming. Some people seem to think that continuity, or tradition, is a narrowing down—what’s left over after the innovators have moved on. But in practice, it’s an enlargement of the painter’s sphere; a reweaving of the web of connections. It’s what most painters feel as their work evolves. Continuity is the dialogue a painter carries on with himself in the guise of his precursors. You push off from your forebears only to find yourself merged with them in the end. An example of what I mean is André Derain, an artist who was present at the birthing, so to speak, of the modernist movement—but who found it uncongenial to his nature.

And some jokes along the way!

[In Eric Fischl’s memoir, he] also shares his opinion of other artists’ work, and dares to break an unwritten code that holds that artists must not criticize other artists in print. This is something all artists do in private, of course. In fact, there are really only three types of conversation among artists: complaining about critics, bashing other artists, and real estate. I’d encourage you to not be like that, but you’ll find it hard to resist.

[Kendra Chubbuck · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reading for the Stonington Book Club. Really knowing barely anything about art this was really a hard read. Thanks to Goggle search I did get through the book. I was constantly looking up all the contemporary artists that were named in the book as I didn't know any of them. Between my PC and phone, I was able to get a history on each artist and actual see some of their paintings. I had to look up a few words as well. The artists Mr. Salle writes about were all quite interesting. I was reading the book on Kindle and a few prints were on it but not really great and didn't help improve the picture quality like the PC did.
I did giggle at a few places. Mr. Salle does have a sense of humor. Mr. Salle being an artist, art history teacher, and being in the art community for over 50 years or more is extremely knowledgeable. I have to say Mr. Salle has given me a lot to think about when it comes to looking at art. I have to think about and look at art in new and different ways than I have in the past. (Yes, I have been to a few art museums.) I guess I mean, how do we learn to really look at art or even things? It's good practice when looking at things or art, try to be aware of what you are thinking about. It could be different from what you know you are supposed to be thinking about. What does the artwork express exactly to you? Love? Suffer? Anything? If you love art, then this book is for you.

[Terry Pitts · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although David Salle is an artist, not a critic, he's a wonderful writer about art. One of his stipulations is that he generally won’t write negatively about an artist. “I think the task is to describe how the sensation evoked by a work of art emerges from the intersection of talent, formal decisions, and cultural context.” The perspective of an artist is always different from that of a critic or an art historian, but it really helps that Salle is a terrific writer. I enjoy his jargon-free pieces on his contemporaries, as well as on artists of earlier generation. Salle opens my eyes to things in works of art I had not thought about before, and I know this translates into how I read books now. It was fitting that he concludes this book with an essay that is essentially an homage to John Baldessari, the L.A. artist who died just as I finished the book.

[Cheryl]

Incestual. Artsy-fartsy vocabulary & referential recent history & neo-retro-anti-X everything. Not for the general public or even people like me who have been to several museums, taken a few courses, read a bunch of books.

Main theme seems to be that intentionality is overrated.
The only quote I feel worth recording is that an analogy is made to an "anchovy reduction." um...

(I note that the author was born in Oklahoma. [!] But his bio makes a point of saying Norman, which is one of the richest, most cultured satellite cities of OKC. I think he really wants to say something about how he overcame his provincial background and now he's all that.)

I stopped reading at p. 33 and skimmed the rest.
Most closely I skimmed "A Talk for the First Day of Class" as that looks pretty good for serious students.
Jan. 2024

[Kåre · Rating 5 out of 5]

Skøn bog af en af de bedste kunstnere. Jeg har levet med bogen igennem 14 dage, hvor jeg har læst og kigget på reproduktioner på nettet af de nævnte kunstnere.
Salle skriver levende om kunst og kunstnere, som han interesserer sig for. Han er en generøs kritikker, som stort set ikke skriver om uinteressant kunst, men kun om kunst, han begejstres af eller som han næsten begejstres af.
Ved ikke, om hans tilgang til at skrive om kunst adskiller sig så meget for kunsthistorikere. Der er vel ikke så meget historisk kontekst og mere process og direkte kiggen på værkerne.
Dejligt at læse en kunstner, som ikke er ond på andre kunstnere, men som hovedsagligt er imponeret og glad for andre kunstneres præstationer.

[Carolyn Halliday · Rating 3 out of 5]

Disappointing to me. It was no more illuminating about one critic's experience with an art work than any other review of an artist's work. Overall it had interesting information and comments but the title is very misleading. It did not inform how to see, look, talk, or think about art. It shares the author's opinions about the artists whose work he discusses. Salle had a personal relationship with many of the artists which adds personal intrigue. It covers a narrow selection of highly successful (mostly) men.

[Dylan · Rating 2 out of 5]

- Interesting artists I heard of for the first time in this book: Dana Schultz, Christopher Wool, Robert Gober, Barbara Bloom, Mike Kelly, Rosemarie Trockel

- Baldessari cremated many of his paintings in 1970 and documented it with photos and a sort of obituary in the newspaper

- Qs to Baldessari: which is better for an artist to be: to be loved or to be feared? [what artists are even feared, it's half a joke, talking about power. But I suppose a controversial and/or disturbing artist is feared in a way or at least hated, which is a kind of fear or distrust.]

[Samantha · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had high hopes for this book, but it turned out to be disappointing. The writing was intricate and artistic, which is why I gave it 3 stars. As a collection of essays and nothing else, it was good. But as a book that is supposed to help artists and non-artists “see” and understand art better, it failed in my opinion. I walked away feeling painfully out-of-the-loop and didn’t learn as much as I hoped to.

[Ogi Ogas · Rating 4 out of 5]

My ratings of books on Goodreads are solely a crude ranking of their utility to me, and not an evaluation of literary merit, entertainment value, social importance, humor, insightfulness, scientific accuracy, creative vigor, suspensefulness of plot, depth of characters, vitality of theme, excitement of climax, satisfaction of ending, or any other combination of dimensions of value which we are expected to boil down through some fabulous alchemy into a single digit.

[Chris Timmons · Rating 4 out of 5]

David Salle is an engaging writer. One has to read between the lines in order for this book to fully live up to its title. It is a tart commentary on the art world today. Salle is kind of old fashioned and though his taste is not unerring---his fine sense of what art does, its purpose, and what it means, gives his book gravitas.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked the parts I read - some general observations about contemporary art, art in general, how to approach art, etc. But the close readings of certain artists only appealed to me for artists whose work I had some familiarity with. I skipped the sections on the others. But I would definitely take a gallery or museum tour with Salle.

[Deanna-marie · Rating 4 out of 5]

perhaps a 3.5, as with a book of past essays and lectures, some are stronger than others. stand outside for me were essays on polke and schultz (interesting reading since my first exposure to her was the controversy of her emitt till painting) and acconci. I also love Alex Katz so to read about his work from the perspective of a friend was a treat for me

[Jocelyn Joubert · Rating 5 out of 5]

Art theory and history taught through the lense of artists ranging from 1940 to the early 2000s. It's wonderfully full of perspective making whether your analysis is of the edge of the canvas, the vantage point, the vanishing point, a unique medium like things used in performance art, the context of the cultural background of the artist, or the new culture an artist creates.