On the Death of Ken Danby
The Globe & Mail story opening line read: "As an artist, Ken Danby's work was loved more by the people than it was revered by the critics." This conflictive response to his work was mentioned in many of the testimonial obituaries on the artist and it was also known to Danby's fans. On a blog dedicated to Danby's memory, James wrote: "... a fabulous talent that I don't feel was treated quite as well as he should have been in the Canadian 'art scene.'" Another thing mentioned in almost every article was the sentiment expressed by Louise on a blog dedicated to Danby's memory: "His art helped me identify with what it is to be Canadian." And Jane Leach wrote: "The grief is reminiscent of how I felt when hearing about Terry Fox."
Mr. Danby, even in death, is a symbol of the rebel artist – the artist beloved by "the people" but "shunned" by critics. His Lana Turneresque story of quitting the Ontario College of Art and being "discovered" by Toronto Gallery owner Walter Moos, has made Danby the poster boy of the Canadian public art "outsider." His rejection of the College's focus on abstraction in favour of a realistic style, and his success with the sales of his paintings and reproductions have given him a kind of "outlaw" popularity.
He is Wyethlike in Canada; his In the Crease the iconic equivalent of Wyeth's Christina's World. And Wyeth, like Danby, found disfavour amongst critics in spite of enormous popular appeal. "Formulaic stuff; not very effective even as illustrational realism," wrote Peter Schjeldahl, art critic for New York's The Village Voice, about Wyeth's work.
Representational (figurative, realist) artists suffer the sentiment popularized by comedian Rodney Dangerfield: they often don't get respect. And representational artists who sell well all seem to become known as much for their critical rejection as for their talent. Commenting on Robert Bateman, the CBC television program "Life and Times" said in the opening statement of his biography: "He is likely the wealthiest and certainly one of the most popular artists in Canada, but Robert Bateman's work has been ignored by most of our country's major galleries."
This issue of critical versus commercial success was a component of the September 07 editorial on the subject of art sales that provoked so many responses from readers. In that editorial I wrote: "Many artists see catering to the marketplace in an unfavourable light." The key word in this sentence is "catering" because the artists I talked with differentiated between artists who pander to the market and artists who enjoy healthy sales but who remain "true" to their muse.
To see the "sales/reviews" dichotomy referenced in the eulogies to Danby disturbed me because I sensed a connotation of failure or "second classness" in their reporting and it is present in much of the media coverage of Bateman, Wyeth, and Danby. Their lack of critical success is part of the myths of these artists. Why is this? Is it because they chose the representational form or because they chose to commercially exploit their images by selling reproductions? Does society prefer that artists be "starving?" Critical success is clearly good. Is success in the marketplace bad?
So let's see... Ken Danby did not have major shows in Canada's elite galleries. And okay, neither did he enjoy critical acclaim. So what? When I think of iconic Canadian images, included in my inventory is Ken Danby's In the Crease. The man had a masterful talent. He liked what he did and he was very, very successful. And if you read the comments on his blog from his friends, you realize that he was born to do what he does. His creative voice defined him. And the fact that thousands of people loved him for what he did and who he was makes him an artist worthy of our eternal gratitude, respect and love.
What does it matter what critics think? "The critics" hated van Gogh. Critics do not define artistry. Ken Danby deserved eulogies that were free of reference to critical shortcomings. Danby blog: www.kendanbyart.com/blog/index_blog.htm
"Please, please, please do not call reproductions of artwork 'prints,' Terry Vatrt wrote to me. "They are not prints; they are photocopies or posters. Yes, I am a printmaker... and the confusion about what is a print has been very detrimental to printmakers. I recently spoke to an owner of two galleries who told me, 'We don't sell prints. There is too much confusion in the marketplace.'"
I'm sorry Terry. I knew the difference between what is an art print and what is a reproduction when I used it in the September 07 editorial. And you're right; it is artists who have muddied the waters with their practice of signing what are, in fact, reproductions. And Gliclée prints – an invented name for the process of making fine art prints from a digital source using ink jet printing (the Wikipedia definition) – have further muddied the field. I apologize for using the term "print" in a way that caused you concern, Terry.
Right or wrong, I use the term print (meaning "fine art print") for a multiple that is created by an artist's hand. Some painters hire expert printmakers to work with them to create art prints from their original paintings. The resulting prints carry the painter's signature when they are sold; the printmaker is not credited.
This distinction does not affect my definition of what is a fine are print: if an artist made it by hand, it is a print.
If you haven't heard of it, you might want to catch the Knowledge Network program, "The Private Life of a Masterpiece." It is a wonderful series on the world's greatest paintings, full of insight and revelation.
Knowledge Network: www.knowledgenetwork.ca
ctyrell@shaw.ca
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