In this lively narrative, award-winning author Michael Kammen presents a fascinating analysis of cutting-edge art and artists and their unique ability to both delight and provoke us. He illuminates America’s obsession with public memorials and the changing role of art and museums in our society. From Thomas Eakins’s 1875 masterpiece The Gross Clinic , (considered “too big, bold, and gory” when first exhibited) to the bitter disputes about Maya Lin’s Vietnam War Memorial, this is an eye-opening account of American art and the battles and controversies that it has ignited.
Michael Gedaliah Kammen was a professor of American cultural history at Cornell University. He won the Pulitzer Prize (History, 1973) for his book, People of Paradox: An Inquiry Concerning the Origins of American Civilization.
A news item recently reported that a gallery in Los Angeles had received protests about an exhibition of 27 photographs of crying toddlers. The photographer offered a lollipop to each of her 2- and 3-year-old subjects, then snatched it away and snapped the picture. Some who saw the exhibition thought she should be charged with child abuse.
The obvious comment is that creating controversial art is as easy as taking candy from a baby. But that the story made the news also points up the symbiotic relationship between contemporary art and the media, which, as Michael Kammen puts it, “often function in their quest for hype and enhanced sales as agents of social indignation.”
That’s not an entirely fair characterization of the news media, whose function, after all, is to report on controversies, regardless of whether doing so “hypes” or “enhances” their circulation figures, Nielsen ratings or Web site hits. But the larger point of Kammen’s book, Visual Shock, is that art has a special character and special problems in a democracy saturated with mass media.
The book is a detailed and comprehensive survey of the history of artistic battles in the United States: skirmishes over monumental architecture and sculpture, nudity and sexuality, modernism, government-subsidized art, multiculturalism and the role of the museum. Some of the controversies are recent and familiar ones: the furor over Maya Lin’s Vietnam War memorial; the NEA grants to Andres Serrano, Robert Mapplethorpe and Karen Finley; Judy Chicago’s feminist “The Dinner Party”; and New York Mayor Rudolph Giuliani’s attempt to shut down the Brooklyn Museum’s exhibition of the Charles Saatchi collection known as “Sensation,” which featured an image of the Virgin Mary made in part from elephant dung.
But controversies over art extend back through the history of the republic. Kammen tells of the long squabble over the Washington Monument, which was designed during the administration of Andrew Jackson as something that might have been imagined by Cecil B. DeMille: “a massive, four-sided rusticated pyramid, a thousand feet square at the base, soaring to a height of 650 feelt, and supporting a ‘collossian’ statue of George Washington, the whole thing insanely envisioned as a thousand feet tall. … The proportions were simply mind-boggling, even by modern standards.”
No wonder the proponents of the monument had trouble raising funds. But even the comparatively simple obelisk that now stands as a D.C. landmark had trouble getting off the ground. Work began on it in 1848, but it remained unfinished until 1884. In the centennial year of 1876, Congress finally provided funds to complete the truncated monument, which was likened to a “big furnace chimney.” Similar battles were raged over the memorials to Lincoln, Jefferson and, more recently, FDR. The speaker of the House, Joe Cannon, denounced the site of the Lincoln Memorial as a “God damned swamp,” Frank Lloyd Wright hated the memorial’s Greek Revival architecture and Lewis Mumford said it had “the mortuary air of archaeology.”
Opinions, standards, tastes are not only ephemeral but malleable. Kammen examines how shrewd manipulation of public opinion turned an initially controversial sculpture, Hiram Powers’ pseudoclassical nude “The Greek Slave,” into one of the most popular works of art in the 19th century. But nudity continued to be a flashpoint, as Kammen shows. And the news still verifies that: A teacher from a Dallas suburb was recently fired for letting her fifth-graders see a nude statue while they were on a field trip to the art museum.
Political opinion, when applied to art, can be inconsistent. In the 1950s, a Michigan congressman, George A. Dondero, made it his business to denounce modern art as a commie plot, charging that modernism “essentially began with the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917, that all of the heinous ‘isms’ were foreign in origin, and that modern art was antithetical to the great beauty of traditional American art and values,” as Kammen summarizes. Dondero even called for a congressional investigation of subversion in modern art. On the other hand, the CIA, aware that the Soviet Union actually suppressed modern art and insisted on “Socialist realism,” saw to it that American Abstract Expressionist painters were prominently featured at the 1956 Venice Biennale. ”National pride could make some folks feel better about modernism, even when they didn’t much like the pictures,” Kammen observes.
Conservatives argue against public funding of art on the grounds that taxpayers shouldn’t be asked to pay for works they dislike or derive no benefit from. “Philistines are people too,” contended one article quoted by Kammen. Liberals say that public subsidy benefits the community as a whole, by encouraging the freedom of expression that is essential to democracy. The public, meanwhile, waffles somewhere in the middle: One poll that Kammen cites found that the people surveyed felt that the government shouldn’t be in the business of censoring art that might be offensive to some people, but on the other hand that it shouldn’t subsidize works that might offend particular groups: women, for example, or racial, ethnic and religious groups. “Artwork may be offensive in general but not in particular: that seems to be where we came out at the close of the twentieth century,” Kammen summarizes.
Kammen, a Pulitzer Prize-winning cultural historian, is skillful at putting all the pieces together. But though Visual Shock is well-researched and densely documented, its pace is plodding and its prose seldom engages the reader. Moreover, the topic is an intractable one. Kammen gives us no new and compelling resolutions to the dilemmas involved in subsidizing artistic freedom – the fact that artists often feel compelled to demonstrate their independence by biting the hands that feed them, and that a spirit of controversy for controversy’s sake often seems to hold sway in the artistic community.
It could have been much improved if there were more pictures of the artwork discussed, and in color, but overall I think I learn enough to show off in museums...
Perhaps the most grammatically perfect book I've ever read and surprisingly, six words that I had to look up. Ok, well perhaps that suggests a poorer vocabulary than otherwise but it hasn't happened to me in quite a while. Ok, well perhaps that suggests a more popular, less scholarly reading selection than otherwise, but again, it hasn't happened to me in quite a while. Enough about me.
Kammen's work is well researched, panoramic in scope and a delight to read. He covers the historic range from early monuments to contemporary art and example by example, constructs the scaffold of criticism, public acclaim and acceptance or rejection. I love the movement from expert imposition to community development that Kammen traces in the evolution of public art creation. Kammen suggests that great art must first be professionally criticized and popularly rejected in order for the work to have significant meaning and lasting memory. And he also infers that the healthiest communities might be those that can object and accept and negotiate a compromise. Kammen presents the censorship, public value nicely but this argument seems to be largely framed as government or popular opinion vs the artist's artistic freedom, which has me somewhat unconvinced. However, the detail on political censorship is revealing and somewhat frightening.
Kammen completed this work in 2006 and it is a natural extension of his earlier research and writing. I wonder whether the next work will be on the monument removals that have become endemic today.
You know you can't judge a book by its cover. Well, I judged this one and I was so wrong. The cover is blah but the content is amazing. At times it was a page turned. Having lived through seven decades, I was fascinated by things that were going on in the art world about which I was oblivious. Good book!
Don’t let the dry, academic tone of the introduction throw you off - this is an endlessly interesting book about art and American culture. Kammen is a wonderful narrator and as adept researcher and academic. The stories in here are never too long to bore but give you plenty on every theme covered. A great primer on 200 years of American fussiness.
“Visual Shock” purports to be nothing less than a history of art controversies in American culture. Its scope is extensive, dating all the way back to the beginning of the nineteenth century and the construction of the Washington Monument, coming up through the more recent contretemps over work of Robert Mapplethorpe and Andres Serrano. The chapters are organized topically, and cover much of the ground that you would expect such a comprehensive history to deal with: the introduction of modern art into the United States, public sculpture, murals, the politicization of art and art funding, and even changing aspects of American museology.
One of the problems with the book is that whole libraries have been written on any one of these subjects. Reading Kammen’s book, I was reminded of a distinction all too familiar to computer scientists: that of data and information. Data is raw, unprocessed, unfiltered, and if some serious work isn’t done on it, pretty useless. Information on the other hand, has had some sort of heuristic applied to it in such a way that it now can communicate something important. Unfortunately, Kammen’s book is all data and almost no information.
The sheer number of names, projects, commissions, provincial politicians, and kvetching letters to the editor that the reader encounters is impressive enough. You get quick, superficial accounts of Karen Finley, Judy Chicago’s famous “Dinner Party,” Chris Ofili, the huge metal pieces of Richard Serra, the bombastic denunciations against modern art by McCarthyist Michigan Congressman George Dondero, the protest art of the sixties and seventies, and the palpable drive for museums to put on more and more extreme exhibits, often sacrificing the quality of art shown, for the sole purpose of pulling in more money. Most of these take up perhaps a few pages – barely enough to introduce the reader to the piece being considered - before Kammen moves on to something else that catches his attention.
Even given Kammen’s distracting lack of narrative drive and insistence on including everything under the sun, there are some recurring themes and questions. When should taxpayer dollars be expended on art, and when shouldn’t they be? Should nudity or the “ability to offend” a section of the viewing public have any relevance to this question? (Kammen, to his credit, does include some interesting polling of the general public on these questions, but as with most everything else, he covers it breathlessly in a few sentences and quickly moves on.) He also discusses several commissions during the Great Depression, and some of the factors that determined how the public reacted to them – this was one of the most successful parts of the book.
One is left with the underwhelming and unsurprising conclusion that most of the public is at best befuddled and at worst disgusted by modern art. However, instead of building critically on that observation or going one step beyond what any relatively informed reader could have already told you, he leaves it there. The level of analysis or integrative thought behind the whole project is sorely lacking, which goes back to what I said about data and information earlier. Writing a book like this consists just as much in knowing what you’re not going to include as what you are, and that filter just doesn’t seem to be there.
On a more prosaic note, in the early chapters, pictures are included when necessary – for those of you who can’t visually conjure Hiram Powers’ “The Greek Slave” from memory (I know some of you are out there). However, Kammen also refers to the work of several names I mentioned above, and no pictures are included. Perhaps he couldn’t get the relevant artist’s or museum’s permission, but this is too sizable an oversight in a book that deals with art, much of which the reader may never have seen. For both this reason and others discussed above, it may be best to completely overlook this unless you’re looking for the most general, cursory discussions of the topic. And even then, I’m sure you can find something better than this.
Visual Shock centers on the history of controversy in American art. The book considers a wide scope of art including monuments, murals, the encroachment of modernism in painting and sculpture, public sculpture, and the transformation of the art museum. The book then takes a comparative approach to trends around the world.
Kammen's book is well organized and weighs the tendencies for art to push towards controversy in order to better serve the public. The author furthers that this has served the art institution very well as museum attendance has skyrocketed (and in turn, the value of the artwork shown). In art's break from formality; its accessibility beyond the museum through public sculpture and murals; its tendency to compel massive crowds through gimmicks, art has become more democratized.
The book contains 69 illustrations, which help when Kammen doles out examples. These illustrations are often crucial for referencing, so the book could have used more. So much art is discussed in this book that Google will be invaluable. In a few cases, the author lost focus by reaching for examples beyond the realm of art. These instances were not distracting, however.
I really enjoyed the book. Previously, I had not appreciated the variety of controversies that art could provoke. This book really deals with them all. The book was also educational in that it introduced me to new artists, some great and some...well not so much. Overall, I found the book thoroughly enjoyable.
Given the sheer scope in compiling a history of American art controversies, Michael Kammen’s “Visual Shock” is an impressive, successful attempt to organize hundreds of donnybrooks into a cohesive narrative. It’s clear that there are few cities in the United States that haven’t been subject to some kind of art-related brouhaha at one time or the other, whether it revolved around the design of a public building, the art commissioned for a public building, a monument, a work supported by a grant from a governmental agency or a work appearing in a museum receiving some public support. Everyone’s a critic, as they say, especially when their tax dollars are directly involved. Kammen is even-handed in his review, showing both sides of what have often been very emotional and political arguments. He deserves a medal for plowing through all those angry “letters to the editor” in so many newspapers. The questions Kammen raises about art, the role of public support of art and the role of museums are explored well in “Visual Shock.” The only real shortcoming of the book is the lack of photo illustrations of the works discussed; maybe only 1 in 10 works/exhibits mentioned have accompanying illustrations, probably due to copyright issues or production costs. This leaves a book with the title “Visual Shock” with very little visual shock itself. Nonetheless, you don’t have to be an artist to appreciate this excellent history. Recommended.
Nicely compartmentalized for those with adult attention deficit disorder...the first chapter is about Monuments - the size, setting and style, and of course the politics of the Vietnam Memorial, Washington Monument and other Monuments on the Mall. Good stuff.
The overall theme is that art was more shocking in the beginning of the 1900s, that each time a new controversy arises we become desensitized to the shock and it takes more to freak us out. The one variation was the idea about modernism, which was aligned with Bolshevism and anarchy - understandably, I suppose. It can be a bit disconcerting if you're used to seeing pretty trees and people and puppies. But those are photographs now. But now that we're comfortable, or at least used to, the idea of chaos and anarchy, we don't mind the modern stuff. I think the only thing that really sets folks off now is "indecent" and "obscene" material - and it only rates a brief mention in the news.
I liked the monuments best. I think a great project would be to have students describe a monument they would build to a person who is important to them - public or private (so Obama or gramma). That description would go to another person who would have to draw it - or even create a model of it. Interesting to see what elements people would use, and how it would be interpreted by someone else.
This book is exactly what its subtitle says it is. Any kind of art controversy you can imagine is probably addressed in its pages -- from questions of public decency to concerns about gender and racial inclusivity at museums, from accusations of gigantism in public sculpture to hostility toward elitist non-local artists painting murals in small-town banks and post offices, it's all here in Michael Kammen's nifty book. Kammen approaches the subjects with the no-nonsense tone of a news reporter, but occasionally some very dry humor will sneak into his prose. The main takeaway I got after reading this book is that America has a problematic relationship with the arts, and is not sure how to place them in context of the wider culture. A good read for students and critics, as well as any art lover who likes a good historical narrative. Read my extended review here: https://www.ruins.blog/p/michael-kamm...
Overall I enjoyed reading this book however it was fairly different than what I expected and much of it felt obvious. I had hoped to read something that described controversies in art an how they reflected the time, how they shaped art history and why so much "great" art is often controversial before it becomes accepted. The book did touch on some of these topics but more focused on how museum and cultural politics and journalists created art "controversies" and how these controversies reflected the era. The author also continually cited surveys of say 1000 Americans on if they felt that art should be censored, if museums should be censored, etc. For the most part these surveys seemed to conclude that some people feel strongly for artistic freedom even if it is offensive while others do not. (Probably didn't need a survey to tell us that!)
I'm still not sure how a book about art controversies in America could be so dull while examining such interesting cases. The book is in need of greater editing; there is a lot of repetition, and artists and controversies are mentioned at different times throughout the book to various degrees. The book also discusses museum exhibit controversies which is a different topic altogether. As other reviews have mentioned, it would have been very helpful to have illustrations for all of the cases discussed. I did learn a lot from this book, and won't go to an art museum in the same way, but am still disappointed.
Scholarly book about controversies in American Art. The Maier Museum has a Sally Mann photograph. I didn't realize she was critized for photographing (exploiting?) her young children. I find her 'The New Mothers' amusing. http://maier.randolphcollege.edu/Obj8...
Most of the controversial Monuments and Murals (Diego Rivera esp.)discussed were familar to me. I also remember the flap when the Smithsonian had an exhibit with Archie Bunker's chair. Some of the other controversies, such as the Maplethorpe pictures are still hard for me to look at.
Really enjoyed this, particularly the earlier chapters which dealt some unfamiliar brouhouhas, like the difficulties that beset the WPA mural program. (I always thought of this as really popular, democractic art, no idea how messy it was.) There's good stuff about public sculpture as well...heartening how well accepted some of these very abstract pieces have become after an initial backlash. Anyway, I did enjoy this and would recommend it to anyone who thinks about the boundaries of high and popular culture.
I read this with a book club and there was considerable disagreement about the quality or readability of the text. I enjoyed it. I think Michael Kammen did a good job of taking a dense subject and making it interesting. There were sections I found less interesting than others, but I gained a good perspective on many aspects of American art and the controversies that often surround it. If you're interested in purchasing this book, look for an independent bookstore here: http://www.indiebound.org/
This book won some sort of award. It is a history of controversies surrounding artworks in America. Although it is a decent source book on its topic, and although it has some obscure examples, it is kind of boring in contrast to the anecdotes in relays. Perhaps the accumulation of scandal and shock is too much for my weak mind.
An okay book reviewing visual art controversies (not musical, etc.). One thing sorely lacking was that for the vast majority of the artworks discussed, there were no pictures--curious in a book about visual art. I was able to Google quite a few of them but that gets tedious quickly.