Last week brought the extraordinary news that the National Gallery of Australia had acquired an animatronic sculpture by Jordan Wolfson for $5 million. One might think this is hardly the time to be spending such a vast sum on a single work of contemporary art, but the choice of artists makes the purchase even more surprising. I saw a show by Jordan Wolfson at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2016, and felt it wouldn’t be a tragedy if I never encountered another work by this artist.
Wolfson has made a career out of being as brash and offensive as possible, and – according to a profile in The New Yorker – this is a pretty accurate reflection of his personality. He comes across as a grade-A narcissistic dickhead who has managed to alienate many of his friends and supporters. Should the NGA be rewarding him for his bad behaviour? Or, more to the point: Is the work so profound and important that it will stand the test of time and justify the price tag?
At least NGA director, Nick Mitzevich didn’t conceal the price, like the AGNSW has done with last year’s Takashi Murakami purchase. He’s prepared to take responsibility for this acquisition, which he obviously hopes will draw crowds and stir controversy. Frankly, I think this is sheer optimism. The money he has spent on one work might have funded two major exhibitions, which would stand a better chance of attracting audiences. I doubt that Wolfson has the recognition factor to draw a crowd, even if we lavish publicity on him.
Speaking personally, I have a real dislike for those artists who make provocative works simply to draw attention to themselves. One can dress almost anything up in some kind of social or political rationale, but in Wolfson’s case it’s hard to believe he’s thinking of anything but his own gratification. Maybe I’ll be surprised. Difficult as it is, I’m obliged to keep an open mind until I’ve seen the Nick’s new investment.
All this has led to an art column reflecting on work which is intended to shock and offend. The Wolfson purchase is my starting point, but there are plenty of other examples worth considering – so many in fact that I could write a whole series rather than a single article. Fortunately there are deadlines and word limits to protect me – and you – from over-indulgence.
The film column looks at The HBO mini-series, The Plot Against America, running on Foxtel. Made by the people who gave us The Wire, and based on a novel by Philip Roth, the series provides an imaginary re-write of history, in which Nazi sympathiser, Charles Lindbergh, runs as Republican candidate in 1940, and defeats Roosevelt. The stength of the story is its plausibility, especially in the era of Trump, when the President has all the pretentions and ambitions of a dictator who treats the Constitution with contempt.
Meanwhile, downunder, we find Scummo trying to convince world leaders they should imediately investigate whether the Chinese created the coronavirus in a laboratory – and then presumably infected themselves in order to cover for their fiendish plot to destroy the world economy. This is pretty much the Trump line, and is intended as the same kind of grandstanding distraction. Resources might be better employed investigating whether the Australian Prime Minister wasn’t created in a lab.