There are many feelings in art criticism today. Reviewers from major cultural broadcasters “missed” at least as much as they “wanted” – or “hoped” or “wanted” (“I wanted a novel with a simple lead sentence”) – followed by a regret: “that the main character was not described in more detail”. The film expert from the cultural broadcaster felt “not picked up” and even art lovers felt “left alone” when looking at his series of paintings.
Is this pedagogy of emotional expectations, reminiscent of parents who, when looking at a half-yearly report card, make it clear that they are “not angry, just disappointed” an appropriate style for art criticism? I miss our dog who is now dead. A friend told me about his regret over the breakdown of his marriage. And wishes? So, this inconspicuous, almost childish, dreamy desire should be used for a cowardly and self-blaming tool? Someone who disguises dominance through sensitivity, which also leaves the critic unassailable (“I’m just saying what I feel”). The bland, bland formulation, steeped in the subjunctive II and often supplemented with “I personally” (yes, who else? The New Zealand Shoveler?), creates emotional air pockets and avoids responsibility.
What appears to be a simple first-person message that gives the impression that one has entered the treatment room of a couples therapist (“I miss your regret that my wishes were not fulfilled”) contains egocentrism and arrogance: Anyone who “misses” something in a work of art seems to know perfectly well how it could have been done better and places themselves above the autonomy of the work.
Just a missing person report
With so much privacy, it’s easy to cross state lines. Recently, the editor of an art magazine lectured the Büchner Prize winner about what he considered “gestures of power” and explained to him what the magazine “missed” – the questioners themselves behind their duality – in his novel, published 24 years ago. When he finally answered the two’s arrogant tone, the question arose whether the author was not “projecting”.
Additionally, these linguistic cues reveal consumerism and transform artists into personal service workers. A few days ago, representatives of film funding agencies called for more attention to be paid to the “desires of the audience,” who want films like “The Canoe of Manitu.” This is not art’s job; As is known, this can cause irritation, annoyance, illogicality and failure to fulfill continuously.
In this unaesthetic mix of pseudo-humility and implicit authority, I – that is, me personally – lose the ability to analyze, erudition, and objectivity and hope that those who see themselves in a position of being able to defend the flag of cultural quality will have a more developed sense of style than Amazon reviewers. A start is to actually take ownership of what you give yourself – and send your personal wish list to Santa.
Kirstin Warnke is an actress, director and writer. He recently published “Don’t be like that” (2024).
