Professional Documents
Culture Documents
TV, Art, and the Postmodern
Art is a simile of the Creation.
—Paul Klee
I’ve come to understand that TV is a primal force in the American home. Sealed off, timeless, self
contained, selfreferring. It’s like a myth being born right there in our living room, like something we
know in a dreamlike and preconscious way. I’m very enthused.
—Don DeLillo, White Noise
My favorite show is Cops. I like when the police shout “Police! Search warrant!” and bust
through a door, and people, screaming, are arrested. A man with a dead hummingbird and
tagged butterfly was taken into custody for punching his mother. “They’re just playing dead,”
he said. Later, the police found his bottom drawer full of ladies’ wigs and heels. I’ve seen
gored arms, bruised heads, disorderly men. I say words like “blackandwhites” and “perps,”
and I trust the detectives on TV. “That one, he’s a good man,” I said once. Instead of the news, I
watch Cops.
Cops is what I call Postmodern television, or pMTV. Postmodern TV differs from modern TV, in
that the former is less moralizing, more ironic (i.e., selfreferring), more freeform, and more real.
On pMTV, the Huxtables are dispensed with in favor of the antiheroes of America’s Most Wanted
and the Simpsons. Predictable plots and twodimensional detectives give way to the dystopic
setting of Twin Peaks. Modern television is no longer sufficiently complex, interactive, or
fantastic to satisfy the lust for quick gratification peculiar to our younger, twentysomething
generation.
Television is an analog of culture as a whole. The aggression of the modern era — replete with
environmental slaughter, two World Wars, countless political and corporate colonizations of
unwilling peoples, and the defeat of the community — is at last making way for a new
movement, a new Zeitgeist, a new fall lineup that will better fulfill our needs and hopes. The
nature of this postmodern movement is still indefinite, but the trends seem at once communal
and iconshattering. It is time to rebuild and redefine our values. This is mostly because people,
especially within our generation, have begun to realize that modernism’s focus on the individual
(a focus which may have peaked in the 1980s) has left a world and an America scarred by battle
after battle for personal gain. We, unique among generations, do not have a brighter future to
eagerly await. Most of us do not expect to be more successful than our parents, to escape the
burden of the national deficit, or to avoid terrorism in our cities. Already there is talk that as a
result of our economic fate, we are a lost generation. Real life having failed us, good TV is the
best available alternative.
TV as antidote. We might consider it one goal of our generation to counter our economic
sullenness with a renewed cultural vigor by injecting our lives with a new and improved reality,
a televisionbased reality. Such an effort would be the perfect tool to approach the postmodern
phenomenon Umberto Eco has termed “hyperreality.” We can use TV, and its related
technologies to enhance the world around us, without the nagging side effects of drugs, without
endangering ourselves at all. That is to say that although people in my neighborhood do not
punch their mothers or crossdress, those who do may move into my community (even my
living room) via TV in general, and Cops in particular. This makes my life more adventuresome,
more glamorous, more real. Although TV is most rewarding when considered as nothing more
than deintellectualized entertainment, it has planned and built our global village. As such, TV
should not be subject to disdain and snobbery. Perhaps TV seldom fulfills our hopes or
expectations, but it does occasionally make us laugh, teach us, and move us. This we should
consider a bonus, not a rule.
There is a close relationship between our generation (born 19611981) and TV. Two previous
generations have grown up with television, but that was when TV was mostly considered a
forum for broadcast vaudeville and things that moved. When the elders of our generation were
toddlers, TV brought us the visually and morally stunning assassinations of Kennedy and Lee
Oswald. Five years later, Americans for the first time watched a war from their living rooms.
Both events gained greater pungency as a result of their nation and worldwide broadcast, and
TV’s significance swelled with each disaster for the next 15 years. As children and adolescents,
we watched the defrocking of the Presidency and the development of the Cold War. Then, in
1982, came MTV.
MTV and the avantgarde. From its inception, MTV was the most innovative enterprise in
television history. It changed television, the record industry, the way we conceive of music.
MTV created Madonna, the Eve of our hyperreal Eden. MTV is now and ever has been
entertainment — pure, but not simple. MTV in many ways seems to have connected our
generation, to have provided millions of young Americans with a common ground, a refuge
from other generations. Our culture, at this age, is defined mostly by the music we listen to and
the products we buy, and MTV, for ten years, has heavily influenced both. The imagistic assault
of MTV may have reduced our attention span, but with apparent irony and some minor
didacticism, it exemplifies the speed and aesthetic sensibility of our generation. It entertains
quickly and well. Antiimperial, communitarian, hyperactive, and often politically correct,
MTV is the model of postmodern television.
One could further argue that MTV is the model of postmodern culture. Having eschewed the
imperialist trends of the past 500 years, fueled the Madonnadriven sexual revolution, and given
our generation its first cultural thrust, MTV has owned mainstream American youth culture for
a decade and has established itself as perhaps the world’s first commercial (even corporate)
avantgarde. Joining corporate economic power with political rectitude and a hypnotic visual
barrage, MTV has insinuated itself into many spheres of contemporary America. Its more recent
foray into political activism and its attempts to build a community of the young, for example,
have had an undeniable effect on the contemporary higher art world. MTV and “higher” artists
temulate the other’s visual style and political values. Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” video, for
instance, shares a message and shockvalue with Andre Serrano’s “Piss Christ.”
Art in recent years has taken a distinctly political tack. It has been confrontational, personal, and
occasionally preachy. Only five years ago, artists attacked conventional morality and symbolism
with such vehemence, that US Senators loudly berated the National Endowment for the Arts and
the individual artists responsible. The controversy continues today, but perhaps with more
sensitivity. The incidents a few years ago engaged more people in the discussion of art and
politics, and the avantgarde which inspired it has moved slowly into the mainstream.
Meanwhile, the young liberals who defended the artists five years ago have now had five years
to develop their own longterm, communitybased political agendas in response to the outdated
modernist beliefs of their elders.
Even with MTV as something of a guide, the political and moral values of our artists and of our
generation seem peculiarly elusive and disjointed. This is not because we are the first generation
to have an ambiguous moral code, but rather because for the first time people other than white
males with media access are engaged in the conversations that will define us. We include men
and women of color, of differing economic, religious, and educational backgrounds. From these,
we cull an array of values and an unprecedented tolerance and freedom. We make it difficult for
academics and pundits in other generations to label us, and names like “the
Twentysomethings,” “Blank Generation,” “13th Generation,” and “Generation X” stick briefly,
then fall. Our enigmatic identity is a direct result of our diversity, our openness, but many also
see it as a defense against the Beats and the Boomers (now largely entrenched in corporate
America) as though the inability to name us were tantamount to the inability to market to us.
This may not be the case, however, and our own generation’s proclivity towards consumerism is
the one element that seems to prevent us from being wholly postmodern. In the future, perhaps,
as we get older and poorer, our avid consumerism will fade, to be replaced by a renewed
fascination with elegant simplicity in the midst of a technologicallyamplified reality. In keeping
with our precedent, such a movement would ensure a cooperative, progressive wellbeing
without issuing a universal mandate of moral behavior.
Community ties will be the key to both the aesthetic and ethical value systems of our
postmodern generation. We will not be far from the crowd, but of it. The discipline of public art
— sculptures in the subways, murals, landscape architecture, etc. — involves interaction with
the community and a technologicallyaided return to natural origins. This technique is a
cooperative, postmodern one, not an aggressive and devastating modern one. The King Street
Gardens Park in Alexandria, VA, for example, is a park designed by a landscape artist, an
architect, a sculptor, and an artist, and alludes to the site’s history as a marshy grassland, before
modern developments paved it over. The work is a sitespecific place of community. Solitary
figures with fragmented identities, remnants of modernism, will gather on benches to admire
flora and each other.
This effect is now and will continue to be true in public art projects across the country, across the
world, and the themes of our art will permeate culture — corporations will replace their
hierarchies with new horizontal networks, churches will increase their openness and their
spirituality, our heroes will not be tycoons or generals, but communitybuilders and
philanthropists. Generations will be evaluated not by their economic helplessness, but by their
cultural innovation. Our own generation, schooled in MTV, Cops, and multiculturalism, will
open the global community and redefine the postmodern aesthetic. It is a shifting.
j!: Lately, there’s been a lot of talk in academia about the defeat of modernism, and the
subsequent rise of postmodernism. Art is no longer the exclusive realm of professional
artists and intellectuals. Are artists responding to this change?
j!: So the disconnection between artists and the general populace is decreasing?
BK: There’s less of a disconnection as time progresses. People are beginning to realize that
there is no place, however unsophisticated, that can’t have a spectacular work. If both
are willing to dream, the artists and the community can develop the skills to connect.
Twenty years ago, the NEA’s panelists bemoaned the American public for not realizing
the importance of good designers. The public is much smarter now, and the artists are
learning ways to involve nontraditional artists. The Public Art program will fund
anthropologists, musicians, and poets to engage in creative planning with the public.
j!: And out of this planning, this conversation, comes the work’s meaning?
BK: To an extent, but I think time gives the work meaning as well. The first project we
funded, in September 1969, was a Calder mobile in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It’s very
abstract — I don’t know what it means. But the city of Grand Rapids has given it a spe
cial meaning. Time has made the piece sitespecific.
j!: Has the ability to assign meaning to public arts bolstered the general populace’s defense
of some controversial artists, even as other members of the community are attacking it?
BK: Earlier this afternoon [3 Ag 1993], Jesse Helms was on the floor of the Senate seeking to
eliminate funding for individual artists, and of course he’s raised many objections in the
past. That he hasn’t won is really amazing. It shows that Americans do support the arts,
and are willing to face opposition to show that support.
j!: One critic recently argued that many young artists believe if they are spectacularly of
fensive, “Jesse Helms might declare them enemies of the state and so rescue them from
the pit of anonymity.” Is this truly the motivation behind contemporary art?
j!: You mentioned artistic evolution. Does that involve progress from one generation to the
next? Is the 13th generation building on or improving the art of the baby boomers, or is
it slacking off?
BK: As I said earlier, both the artists and the audiences are better educated now. And the
younger artists are open to anything. They can use feminism, civil rights movements,
and most recently, multiculturalism, in ways that have not been tried before. The
young are looking for channels to focus their idealism, they are looking to change things.
j!: You seem genuinely pleased with the younger generation of artists.
BK: The young can accept information from any direction. They can translate the constant
flow of information into knowledge. They are not locked into one mode of thinking.
The young have fewer blinders than anyone else, and see art where no one else has.
Children today are being taught to think about art, to use art in solving arithmetic
problems. They don’t get confused, or block ideas — they just increase their skills.
When they are older, they will know engineering, math, acoustics, and use it all to create
art.
j!: Finally, what role has television played in the opening or closing of the younger
Americans’ mind, and how does that relate to the art world?
ClipnSave! A Guide to the PM world
Modern Postmodern
Radio TV
CHiPs Cops
Elvis Elvis
Leno Letterman
NBC MTV
Men Women
Hetero Bi
Wasteland Wetland
Anonymity Fame