Don't Believe The Hype

The Charlie Finch story continues in the New York Observer. If you want a full recap of the whole ordeal I suggest you read Edna V Harris blog. I've mentioned the conflict in a brief, sarcastic, post earlier, but I haven't bothered with any detailed examination of it.

I won't do that now either, but what I have tried to do is form an independent opinion about the painter in focus, Natalie Frank. Of course, that isn't possible, but I feel it's necessary to try. And the blatant sexism aside in Finch's review, I can only come to the conclusion that he does have a point. Or at least half a point.

Natalie Frank's work is bordering on kitch, and the Self Portrait is in a class of it's own. Working in a neo surrealist style she is also bordering on semipornography, but in a rather innocent version. Not like, for instance, the outright obscenities of Odd Nerdrum, but still playing on uncomfortable sexualized symbolics.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it takes skill to perfect this approach. A skill that Frank isn't - yet! - in possesion of. She is still young, and it's to early in her career to predict how she will develop, and I find no reason to judge her work harshly.

But there is also the question of hype. As mentioned in my post on Swedish artist Anna Finney the risks with over selling developing artists are obvious. Not necessarily for the artist herself - often paternalistically regarded as a powerless victim - but for the critics. This kind of exposure of a single artist is, to put it mildly, bad for our judgement. And very few artists are more hyped than Natalie Frank right now.