We seem to spawn subcultures at a dizzying rate these days, and those subcultures, as cultures tend to do, create art, music, fashion and lifestyles in their own image. As far as the goth culture goes, we’ve all seen the teenagers dressed in black doing their best to look gaunt, we’ve heard music groups such as Dead Can Dance (a number of which, by the way, have created some excellent music — I’m a Dead Can Dance fan from way back), but I don’t recall having seen a systematic look at the art produced in this milieu, a lack that Jasmine Becket-Griffith has attempted to rectify in Gothic Art Now.
First, the art itself. As someone who is fairly well in tune with what has been termed “the art of the fantastic,” much of the imagery struck me as somewhat old hat: elements of the supernatural, especially vampires, coupled with images of death and decay, a focus on the creepy, sometimes unexpected juxtapositions of moods, and a fondness for the grotesque. We find a range of styles and approaches here, from the tactile, painterly quality of works such as Joachim Loetke’s Divine Heresy or Caniglia’s Her Future Has Already Begun to the sharply detailed, realistic renderings in such as Myke Amend’s Hope (The Light at the End) or Martin McKenna’s Talisman of Death. There is a full range of media at use here, as well, from acrylics and oils on canvas to colored pencil, graphite, and photography. What is notable is the seeming omnipresence of digital media: Photoshop, Corel Painter and other graphics software are heavily represented, sometimes with stunning results. Three-dimensional media are represented as well, from cast metal to assemblages (Christopher Conte’s creations are especially intriguing, with their insect imagery and combinations of organic and mechanical forms) to soft sculpture.
All in all, it’s a survey on the order of the Spectrum annuals, but with a much tighter focus. Needless to say, like those anthologies, there is a range of quality and interest in the images, some of which — although, alas, few — are arresting, but most of which are good but not exceptional.
I do, however have some sharp objections to this book, not to the images themselves, but to what the editor has attempted to make of them. I find, after a lifetime spent in the arts, that I’m extraordinarily accepting of various forms of cultural expression. I’ve said often enough, “It’s all just music.” That applies to any medium, and carries the implication that each work holds its own justification, if it is to succeed as art. I also find that I’m much more interested in whether it does what it purports to do, and does it well, than whether it rises to the realm of high art. By the same token, if one is attempting to establish a pedigree for works in the vernacular (or any place, for that matter), one had better be on bedrock, and that’s where I find both the Foreword, by the illustrator Brom, and the Introduction, by editor Becket-Griffith, lacking: better not to have made any such attempt. What’s astonishing to me is that nowhere in the book have I found a reference to gothic romances, that nineteenth-century literary genre that gave rise to modern horror/dark fantasy, which as much as anything else could be credited with exerting an influence on the goth subculture.
For starters, to anyone with a passing acquaintance with the history of Western art, “Gothic” denotes a specific period in late medieval Europe that reflected a culture that has nothing to do with late-twentieth-century Euro-American society. Pointed arches in the background do not a Gothic painting make. As Becket-Griffith points out, “labels can bring confusion and controversy.” Alas, that’s really only true when the labels are inappropriate and sloppily applied. Neither Becket-Griffith nor Brom really make a case for truly “Gothic” roots for this movement — their attempts strike me as tokens, and no more, like their attempts to build a link to the English pre-Raphaelites (although they just might be on firmer ground there): it’s argument by assertion, with which I have no patience at all. (It’s not helped by the fact that Becket-Griffith almost immediately slips into a discussion of the “goth” subculture, leading to my reaction: we have a perfectly serviceable and unambiguous term to use — why not just use it?)
I also have little patience with the implicit snobbery in Becket-Griffith’s reference to most gothic works (and note that the capital “G” has suddenly disappeared) being dismissed as “mere ‘illustration.'” Frankly, they are illustrations: they are in desperate need, most of them, of context, an outside narrative that will support what they picture and give us some point of entry to the image. (Take it as definitive that if you have to publish a caption that explains the image, something’s missing.) There are some that transcend that limit (Laurie Lipton’s Family Reunion comes to mind, with its wickedly mordant humor, as does Kimberly Myatt’s Watcher — ravens are a universal and highly evocative image, although I don’t see why it has to have four legs: it’s a perfectly good drawing without that), but few of them reach outside their own set of references to create the kind of universal resonance that one expects from those works we are pleased to elevate to the realms of high art.
OK — that was enough to put me in a spitting rage. (I’m funny that way.) You can imagine my reaction to the blatant sexism displayed, not only in the images themselves, but in the organization: Leading off is the chapter titled “Femmes Fatales,” and sure enough, we are treated to a panoply of scantily clad women-as-objects — some with dripping fangs, but objects nonetheless — followed by “Men in Black,” in which men appear as actors — or threats. Do I really need to say more? (I will refrain from remarks about Heavy Metal and hormonally supersaturated teenagers.)
So, I’m still waiting for the book that is going to put the visual art of the goth subculture into perspective, without pretension and with some attempt to provide a solid basis for analysis. It deserves that, I think, as well as documentation that gives us some sense of historical context (it would have been nice to have dates for the artists and dates of creation for the works). Sadly, I’m forced to the conclusion that this is not that book.
(Collins/Design [Harper/Collins], 2008)
