Kresge Prize ALMOST FAMOUS

DETROIT - In future years, during the build-up to the announcement of the winner, the Kresge Prize will receive intense attention from the media. Much of this scrutiny will be critical and the question often to be asked, "is this art?" These future shortlisted artists will all work in innovative media, including video, installation art and unconventional sculpture, though painters may also have a small place.

But this year, the very first Kresge Prize exhibition looks like a dud. The six shortlisted artists on view at Detroit’s Museum of New Art (MONA) struck me as unusually similar. Normally such outings try to create some variety or change of pace if only because the exhibition that accompanies any prize is made livelier when there is a good mix of painting and sculpture as well as film, photography and installation art in it. That means that this first shortlist, titled Almost Famous, focuses on one kind of art-making in Detroit to the exclusion of all others. And that would be painting.

An odd decision was made before the Kresge jurors even met: to make the work more palatable for this conservative art town, nearly all of this exhibit’s work has been digitally captured and transferred onto canvas, no matter what its original medium – all stretched, varnished and presented as rather traditional paintings.

Any concept art has been forcibly shunned here, unlike London’s Turner Prize which champions it to a fault. Oddly though the Kresge Prize, with this one absurdly restrictive stroke, calls into question all our current understanding of what constitutes contemporary art. Something the Turner has attempted since 1991, to often short-sighted effect.

By displaying all the entries as “art”, by presenting everything as “paintings”, the Detroit work is stripped of either the sensational or the difficult, and straight-jacketed from using arty gimmicks or look-at-me grandstanding. This gambit does uncomplicate the chaotic flux of contemporary art and trends, but at the same time casts an eerie quality over the entire exhibition.

ALMOST FAMOUS stands more like a crime scene recreation, with sketch artist renditions of the real thing. Mostly photography based, of mainly realistic scenes, deceptively nonchalant in composition and subject matter – but by way of its “pure” presentation emptied of implicit meaning or edge. The exhibit has unintentionally freed itself to become art that no longer depends on the obscure reference to be understood.

Altogether, it creates the kind of contemporary art spectacle you don't usually get anymore: room after room of miscellaneous paintings, everything very cleanly shown, and with clear space around it. The display is unobtrusive, though not exactly rousing. The works appear like a succession of solid trophies, each one asking above all to be noticed.

A woman perched on the toilet is vying with a man gunned down in a street – both works having once hoped to land the Kresge Prize, now the world’s largest arts award by ten.

Physically you move from piece to piece, from one place to the other, gallery to gallery, but, at the end of the day, you don't know where you've been – only that place where a once-heated debate about what you want and expect from contemporary art has been tethered and left you guessing like never before.

This first year's contenders are not "trying to be sensationalists," Cesar Marzetti answered, as to whether he viewed this exhibit as Detroit’s own version of the notorious Sensation show that a decade ago thrust so many young British artists onto the world stage.

"Detroit artists are just trying to deal with the issues of the 21st century. I'm confident that visiting the show will be a very interesting experience and one which will cause people to look at Detroit in a different way."

Love it or leave it, provocative or not, the coveted award and its companion fellowships will be instrumental in bringing what is arguably the best of contemporary Detroit art to a broader general public.

Marzetti added, “The winner is the winner. No further discussion needed. It's been decided in a room somewhere. Charles McGee gets it hands down.

"But having lost the prize, the shortlisters now become fair game. Their flimsy status as contributors to the discourse of art can now be officially challenged, not just by a Detroit audience but also by the international community. It isn't always about winning you know. More often it's who is making the best art, and what does that mean nowadays?"

Yet to put all the stress on a failed shortlist, as this show does, is strange. Although the main objective of the Kresge Prize isn't to foster talent through reward, the competitive aspect still becomes an enormous public lure. Obviously one the Museum of New Art could not resist to exploit by mounting this show. And so too, certainly, the Kresge Prize itself will be judged in coming years as an instrument of publicity: for the nominees, for contemporary art, and for the sponsor. Indeed, the prize has the potential to lift contemporary art onto an entirely new publicity plane.

After all, the Kresge Prize isn't so much about art, as it is about getting people to talk about art. Whether the public likes or dislikes the artists highlighted by the Kresge Prize is irrelevant. The Kresge is about the media in the end, without whose coverage it will cease to excite. It is destined to become the most prestigious art prize in the world. The media will not only trace the steps along this path; it will also play no small part in getting us there.

"Total impartiality was the premium set for distinguishing this talented group from the final winner,” one juror confided.

There will always be compromise voting and favoritism, but to best maintain the prize's impartiality against public scrutiny jurors were required: not to have viewed nor have any personal knowledge of the nominees' work over the past five years; nor, were they allowed to either speak with, interview or visit the artists nor their studios. All decisions were made from a simple viewing of twenty digital slides from each artist.

From the outset, the endgame set out to achieve a good public reception for the eventual winner and, most important of all, the Foundation’s safeguard: the caveat being that the final choice could be exhibited anywhere in the world without causing a ripple of controversy. In the end, everyone is happy when these decisions are solidly safe and meet community standards everywhere.

When the Turner prize was established in 1984 it had no age restrictions. At this point, neither does the Kresge. The greatest fear to many artists is that the Kresge Prize will become a lifetime achievement award of some kind; while the eighteen smaller but still-handsome "fellowships" given later in the year will address only the untried young.

According to Marzetti, "Such a separation within the major prize itself, only leads to the dissolution of its real impact and purpose. If it simply becomes a star search for the safe, the old and the established - it will totally cripple its ability as a benchmark that distinguishes the Detroit art scene. If it sets out to be the Nobel Prize for Detroit Art, all the top people will be used up in the first five years. It overshoots, and the overwhelming majority of Detroit's best will be rendered ineligible."

But has such a purpose even been defined yet?

"The Prize should remain open to any artist who meets their prescribed qualifications," Marzetti explained. "And that is to recognize artistic innovation and to reward integrity, depth of vision and singularity of purpose at any age and at any place in one's career.

"This prize shouldn't set out to be a career-ender, but to acclaim an artist at the height of his abilities. Not to attempt to decide Detroit's greatest living artist, but its most outstanding to date. It should be a moment-in-time celebrated, not a time capsule to be buried at night in the city square."

When London's Turner Prize briefly dropped their shortlist exhibition in 1988, critics and public alike hated being deprived of the opportunity to compare works, to approve or disapprove of the selections, and the fun of trying to predict who would – or wouldn't – win. In 1991 the Turner shortlist, and exhibition of work by shortlisted artists, was reinstated.

In Detroit there are many who argue that a similar competition is the best way to attract widespread interest, but that the Kresge administrators are half-hearted about attracting media coverage. Such a competition would possibly achieve the impossible here: establishing a Detroit contemporary art event as something of national concern and importance.

Jef Bourgeau, director of the Museum of New Art, holds a slightly different view: "The whole idea of a race and a winner is demeaning to art. I also have particular concerns about the shortlist, since all but one would be seen as losers in a race they hadn't chosen to enter. There is also uncertainty at this early point as to what the Prize is actually for: is it to acknowledge the work of Detroit's most reputable senior artists? Or should it highlight younger but transformative talent? And if you have both types of artist on one shortlist, how do you possibly decide between them? "

Having said that, Bourgeau explained why he eventually agreed to this exhibition: "The shortlisted artists for this prize were told that they should feel honored just to be nominated. For me, an honor is a token of public esteem bestowed on someone for notable work or actions. Without such recognition, there can be no honor bestowed. Detroit's art and artists have been kept secret and hidden too long. I see Almost Famous as giving the shortlist some small acclamation for their commitment to Detroit and their laudable contributions to its culture.

"And for the general public, such a notable award should be more than a mere announcement. It should allow us all the occasion to see some of the best art being honored in Detroit." But Bourgeau didn't stop there, "And I believe even more fervently that, as the winner, Charles McGee should also be given his own exhibition. That's a no-brainer."

When asked whether MONA would also be the institution to organize such a celebratory exhibit for McGee, Bourgeau responded quickly: "The DIA should step up. Only their prestige validates art here. Those of us in the art community have waited too long to pass on such a happy convergence: of real attention from the Prize and validation by this grand institution. Detroiters need to come to know its artists, young and old, untried or true. And I firmly believe the Kresge Prize and its fellowships will be a first step at correcting this lapse."

With such little fanfare raised during this first selection, there is small hope. And, for some, that means the Kresge Prize has failed its larger purpose: that Detroit art will be discussed in a way it hasn't been for decades.

		December 14, 2008 ALMOST FAMOUS: a shortlist exhibition Detroit's Kresge Prize Finalists Go Down for the Count by Richard Krug for The Times Sunday Magazine courtesy Wallace Ford. DETROIT - In future years, during the build-up to the announcement of the winner, the Kresge Prize will receive intense attention from the media. Much of this scrutiny will be critical and the question often to be asked, "is this art?" These future shortlisted artists will all work in innovative media, including video, installation art and unconventional sculpture, though painters may also have a small place. But this year, the very first Kresge Prize exhibition looks like a dud. The six shortlisted artists on view at Detroit’s Museum of New Art (MONA) struck me as unusually similar. Normally such outings try to create some variety or change of pace if only because the exhibition that accompanies any prize is made livelier when there is a good mix of painting and sculpture as well as film, photography and installation art in it. That means that this first shortlist, titled Almost Famous, focuses on one kind of art-making in Detroit to the exclusion of all others. And that would be painting. But are these even paintings? An odd decision was made before the Kresge jurors even met: to make the work more palatable for this conservative art town, nearly all of this exhibit’s work has been digitally captured and transferred onto canvas, no matter what its original medium – all stretched, varnished and presented as rather traditional paintings. Any concept art has been forcibly shunned here, unlike London’s Turner Prize which champions it to a fault. Oddly though the Kresge Prize, with this one absurdly restrictive stroke, calls into question all our current understanding of what constitutes contemporary art. Something the Turner has attempted since 1991, to often short-sighted effect. An object reduced only to an art context – Is IT STILL ART? By displaying all the entries as “art”, by presenting everything as “paintings”, the Detroit work is stripped of either the sensational or the difficult, and straight-jacketed from using arty gimmicks or look-at-me grandstanding. This gambit does uncomplicate the chaotic flux of contemporary art and trends, but at the same time casts an eerie quality over the entire exhibition. ALMOST FAMOUS stands more like a crime scene recreation, with sketch artist renditions of the real thing. Mostly photography based, of mainly realistic scenes, deceptively nonchalant in composition and subject matter – but by way of its “pure” presentation emptied of implicit meaning or edge. The exhibit has unintentionally freed itself to become art that no longer depends on the obscure reference to be understood. What’s left you might ask. Altogether, it creates the kind of contemporary art spectacle you don't usually get anymore: room after room of miscellaneous paintings, everything very cleanly shown, and with clear space around it. The display is unobtrusive, though not exactly rousing. The works appear like a succession of solid trophies, each one asking above all to be noticed. A woman perched on the toilet is vying with a man gunned down in a street – both works having once hoped to land the Kresge Prize, now the world’s largest arts award by ten. Physically you move from piece to piece, from one place to the other, gallery to gallery, but, at the end of the day, you don't know where you've been – only that place where a once-heated debate about what you want and expect from contemporary art has been tethered and left you guessing like never before. DOWN FOR THE COUNT This first year's contenders are not "trying to be sensationalists," Cesar Marzetti answered, as to whether he viewed this exhibit as Detroit’s own version of the notorious Sensation show that a decade ago thrust so many young British artists onto the world stage. "Detroit artists are just trying to deal with the issues of the 21st century. I'm confident that visiting the show will be a very interesting experience and one which will cause people to look at Detroit in a different way." Love it or leave it, provocative or not, the coveted award and its companion fellowships will be instrumental in bringing what is arguably the best of contemporary Detroit art to a broader general public. Marzetti added, “The winner is the winner. No further discussion needed. It's been decided in a room somewhere. Charles McGee gets it hands down. "But having lost the prize, the shortlisters now become fair game. Their flimsy status as contributors to the discourse of art can now be officially challenged, not just by a Detroit audience but also by the international community. It isn't always about winning you know. More often it's who is making the best art, and what does that mean nowadays?" Yet to put all the stress on a failed shortlist, as this show does, is strange. Although the main objective of the Kresge Prize isn't to foster talent through reward, the competitive aspect still becomes an enormous public lure. Obviously one the Museum of New Art could not resist to exploit by mounting this show. And so too, certainly, the Kresge Prize itself will be judged in coming years as an instrument of publicity: for the nominees, for contemporary art, and for the sponsor. Indeed, the prize has the potential to lift contemporary art onto an entirely new publicity plane. After all, the Kresge Prize isn't so much about art, as it is about getting people to talk about art. Whether the public likes or dislikes the artists highlighted by the Kresge Prize is irrelevant. The Kresge is about the media in the end, without whose coverage it will cease to excite. It is destined to become the most prestigious art prize in the world. The media will not only trace the steps along this path; it will also play no small part in getting us there. TIGHT SECURITY "Total impartiality was the premium set for distinguishing this talented group from the final winner,” one juror confided. There will always be compromise voting and favoritism, but to best maintain the prize's impartiality against public scrutiny jurors were required: not to have viewed nor have any personal knowledge of the nominees' work over the past five years; nor, were they allowed to either speak with, interview or visit the artists nor their studios. All decisions were made from a simple viewing of twenty digital slides from each artist. From the outset, the endgame set out to achieve a good public reception for the eventual winner and, most important of all, the Foundation’s safeguard: the caveat being that the final choice could be exhibited anywhere in the world without causing a ripple of controversy. In the end, everyone is happy when these decisions are solidly safe and meet community standards everywhere. THE PRIZE FIGHT When the Turner prize was established in 1984 it had no age restrictions. At this point, neither does the Kresge. The greatest fear to many artists is that the Kresge Prize will become a lifetime achievement award of some kind; while the eighteen smaller but still-handsome "fellowships" given later in the year will address only the untried young. According to Marzetti, "Such a separation within the major prize itself, only leads to the dissolution of its real impact and purpose. If it simply becomes a star search for the safe, the old and the established - it will totally cripple its ability as a benchmark that distinguishes the Detroit art scene. If it sets out to be the Nobel Prize for Detroit Art, all the top people will be used up in the first five years. It overshoots, and the overwhelming majority of Detroit's best will be rendered ineligible." But has such a purpose even been defined yet? "The Prize should remain open to any artist who meets their prescribed qualifications," Marzetti explained. "And that is to recognize artistic innovation and to reward integrity, depth of vision and singularity of purpose at any age and at any place in one's career. "This prize shouldn't set out to be a career-ender, but to acclaim an artist at the height of his abilities. Not to attempt to decide Detroit's greatest living artist, but its most outstanding to date. It should be a moment-in-time celebrated, not a time capsule to be buried at night in the city square." When London's Turner Prize briefly dropped their shortlist exhibition in 1988, critics and public alike hated being deprived of the opportunity to compare works, to approve or disapprove of the selections, and the fun of trying to predict who would – or wouldn't – win. In 1991 the Turner shortlist, and exhibition of work by shortlisted artists, was reinstated. In Detroit there are many who argue that a similar competition is the best way to attract widespread interest, but that the Kresge administrators are half-hearted about attracting media coverage. Such a competition would possibly achieve the impossible here: establishing a Detroit contemporary art event as something of national concern and importance. Jef Bourgeau, director of the Museum of New Art, holds a slightly different view: "The whole idea of a race and a winner is demeaning to art. I also have particular concerns about the shortlist, since all but one would be seen as losers in a race they hadn't chosen to enter. There is also uncertainty at this early point as to what the Prize is actually for: is it to acknowledge the work of Detroit's most reputable senior artists? Or should it highlight younger but transformative talent? And if you have both types of artist on one shortlist, how do you possibly decide between them? " Having said that, Bourgeau explained why he eventually agreed to this exhibition: "The shortlisted artists for this prize were told that they should feel honored just to be nominated. For me, an honor is a token of public esteem bestowed on someone for notable work or actions. Without such recognition, there can be no honor bestowed. Detroit's art and artists have been kept secret and hidden too long. I see Almost Famous as giving the shortlist some small acclamation for their commitment to Detroit and their laudable contributions to its culture. "And for the general public, such a notable award should be more than a mere announcement. It should allow us all the occasion to see some of the best art being honored in Detroit." But Bourgeau didn't stop there, "And I believe even more fervently that, as the winner, Charles McGee should also be given his own exhibition. That's a no-brainer." When asked whether MONA would also be the institution to organize such a celebratory exhibit for McGee, Bourgeau responded quickly: "The DIA should step up. Only their prestige validates art here. Those of us in the art community have waited too long to pass on such a happy convergence: of real attention from the Prize and validation by this grand institution. Detroiters need to come to know its artists, young and old, untried or true. And I firmly believe the Kresge Prize and its fellowships will be a first step at correcting this lapse." With such little fanfare raised during this first selection, there is small hope. And, for some, that means the Kresge Prize has failed its larger purpose: that Detroit art will be discussed in a way it hasn't been for decades.

		ALMOST FAMOUS: a shortlist exhibition -- will open Saturday, December 20th at the Museum of New Art (MONA), and will close January 17th, 2009. A reception will also be held on Saturday, December 20th - from 6pm until 9pm. The Museum of New Art is located at 7 North Saginaw Street, Pontiac.
		The Shortlist:
		Clara Beckmann - is the grand-niece of German painter Max Beckmann. She was born outside London in 1978, and has recently served a residency at Detroit’s Museum of New Art. She lives and works between London and Detroit. Throughout her young life Clara Beckmann has traveled the globe immortalizing art figures of the early 20th century with her camera. In the Face of Art: Famous Dead Artists, Beckmann's lens is focused exclusively on these early innovators of modern art. Beckmann’s portraits are known for their dark clarity and simple texture. Her lack of personable knowledge and insensitivity toward her subjects combined with her self-taught technical skills allow us to intimately view some of the outstanding personalities of our era. The power of Beckman's portraits lies in the fact that they are memories of our existence. They reveal something of the nature of our age.

		Hanne Bloot - was born 1980 in Maastricht, Netherlands. She attended art school in Michigan, and currently is living in Detroit with her American husband. Bloot discovered photography in her early teens, beginning her studies at Ritvald Academy in Amsterdam at just seventeen. By the age of nineteen she was a P.S.1 grant recipient, where her series My Life As A Film (2000) was created and first exhibited. Alongside her photographic works such as the series Alone And Not Alone (2004-present) and Hidden (2007), over the subsequent years she also made many short films. Hanne Bloot’s application of light and color in her photography is painterly and yet contemporary at the same time, hinting at dark emotions. There is a sense of forced isolation, of two people sharing space yet disconnected, of a room within rooms. Her work is a quiet poetry of understatement and misdirection. As our eyes drift across Bloot’s photographs in search of a resting point, we invest the dark spaces between with a symbolic value: the alienation of life in an increasingly urban world.

		Stig Eklund - was born in Bergen, Norway in 1976. He has lived and worked in Detroit since 2004. An undiagnosed dyslexic, Stig Eklund left Secondary education at the age of sixteen. He spent his remaining teen years working at a cardboard factory in his home town. During that time, utilizing the materials at hand, he began to make and experiment with several pinhole cameras. The work from these rudimentary cameras developed into dark, moody photographs. He has remarked that he can only see "right" through a camera lens. Eklund's mature camera style is so strong that it can even shroud a street lamp, so that, instead of light, it seemingly emits darkness and shadows. His vision drapes geometrically clashing urban beauty with the sooty persona of its denizens, succinctly captured by a Norwegian artist who spends much of the year in Detroit's glowering twilight.

		Ford Wallace Ford - was born in 1950 and grew up in Michigan. When he was four years of age Ford's mother, unable to financially care for the child, had the young boy declared a ward of the state. He was interned at the Coldwater State Hospital until he was legally of age, then released to a half-way house in Pontiac (where he has lived off and on for the last six years). Although no real relation to the automobile family can be proven, Ford’s mother had worked as a seamstress at the family’s Rose Terrace mansion. She was released from the household when it was discovered that she had become pregnant out of wedlock. Destitute, she quickly found herself in a home for teen mothers, through which she subsequently relinquished custody of her infant son. The artist’s name soon took on the double Ford appellation due to a lifetime in institutions, where each morning’s roll call began “Ford, Wallace?” and was responded to: “Present, Wallace Ford.” It was only at the age of forty-one, while spending hobby time at a drug rehabilitation center, that Ford taught himself to paint. His life has been magical since that discovery of unbounded talent.

		Missy Wiggins - was born in Detroit, 1982. Her family moved to London when she was five, and where she received her schooling. She currently lives and works in Detroit Her series of portraits and cityscapes represents the explosive effects of post 9/11 fear and neo-urbanization in the 21st Century, both in our environment and psyche - observed by the artist in Detroit and London.

		Shen-Ba Wong - was born in the Fujian Province in the year of the horse 1978. Wong’s father a Shanghai professor of art and her mother a doctor were victims of the Cultural Revolution, forced to relocate to the countryside as manual laborers in 1967. Her father worked at a farm distribution center, and would bring home broken planks from shipping pallets with which both he and eventually the young Wong would carve their first woodcuts. Later at Xiamen University, she reacted violently against the Xiamen Dada movement founded in 1986 by embracing still older techniques (the blockprint) combined with newer Western ideas (abstraction). She is now at the vanguard of those younger Chinese artists emerging today.

		Two for one Cesar Marzetti, the museum’s curator, has written two versions of the same essay for the catalogue: one for those over 50 years old, and one for those younger. When cornered about simply recycling an old essay he'd written a few years ago, Marzetti responded angrily: “All of modern art is recycled. Since the beginning of the 20^th century. Artists cannibalize each other and regurgitate. After 100 years the same spew tends to get thinner yet more seductive at the same time.” “Our audience,” he explained, pulling his gray-tinged hair back into a ponytail, “they are of two distinct groups. One is the young academically avant-garde. Academic because for them art is made not to communicate but to be explained. The other is the old school. Those who take it all at face-value, simple technique and vision. One is hip, one is not. And my intention with one essay for both, was to address each in a language that they are familiar. While maintaining the integrity of the overall essay and my own reputation among both camps.”

		Catalogue Essays: 1 & 2
		1 (click here)
		(Important note: if you are under fifty years old, please skip down to the second essay below.)
		2 (click here)
		(Important note: read only if you are familiar with current art trends and aged under fifty)

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