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Artoday
This text is an illustrated survey of movements in world art since 1960. The Modern Movement - unchallenged for the previous six decades - has lost its dominance, but has not been replaced by any single new orthodoxy. Artists, critics and the public alike are now confronted by a situation of unprecedented variety and complexity. Lucie-Smith's earlier "Art Today" was a survey of post-war art. This revised edition reflects the changes that have swept across the art world since 1960, challenging all the old assumptions and certainties. As he reviews the new work worldwide, his central argument is that the art world is no longer hierarchical but plural, and that its structures - if they exist at all - are provisional. He charts the progress of contemporary developments and points out their sources and interrelationships. The work of nearly 500 outstanding contemporary artists is analyzed and illustrated in colour.
- GenresArt
512 pages, Hardcover
Published January 1, 1995
1 person is currently reading
59 people want to read
About the author
Edward Lucie-Smith
452 books29 followersJohn Edward McKenzie Lucie-Smith, known as Edward Lucie-Smith, is an English writer, poet, art critic, curator and broadcaster.
Lucie-Smith was born in Kingston, Jamaica, moving to the United Kingdom in 1946. He was educated at The King's School, Canterbury, and, after a little time in Paris, he read History at Merton College, Oxford from 1951 to 1954.
After serving in the Royal Air Force as an Education Officer and working as a copywriter, he became a full-time writer (as well as anthologist and photographer). He succeeded Philip Hobsbaum in organising The Group, a London-centred poets' group.
At the beginning of the 1980s he conducted several series of interviews, Conversations with Artists, for BBC Radio 3. He is also a regular contributor to The London Magazine, in which he writes art reviews. A prolific writer, he has written more than one hundred books in total on a variety of subjects, chiefly art history as well as biographies and poetry.
In addition he has curated a number of art exhibitions, including three Peter Moores projects at the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool; the New British Painting (1988–90) and two retrospectives at the New Orleans Museum of Art. He is a curator of the Bermondsey Project Space.
Lucie-Smith was born in Kingston, Jamaica, moving to the United Kingdom in 1946. He was educated at The King's School, Canterbury, and, after a little time in Paris, he read History at Merton College, Oxford from 1951 to 1954.
After serving in the Royal Air Force as an Education Officer and working as a copywriter, he became a full-time writer (as well as anthologist and photographer). He succeeded Philip Hobsbaum in organising The Group, a London-centred poets' group.
At the beginning of the 1980s he conducted several series of interviews, Conversations with Artists, for BBC Radio 3. He is also a regular contributor to The London Magazine, in which he writes art reviews. A prolific writer, he has written more than one hundred books in total on a variety of subjects, chiefly art history as well as biographies and poetry.
In addition he has curated a number of art exhibitions, including three Peter Moores projects at the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool; the New British Painting (1988–90) and two retrospectives at the New Orleans Museum of Art. He is a curator of the Bermondsey Project Space.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
May 31, 2015
At smart gallery openings I might well have booed
And my gallery brochure surreptitiously chewed
When those art critics drooled, billed and (yes) cooed
And babbled forth theories increasingly pseud
(And later made purchases financially shrewd)
Over the great and the not so great American nude
(Private parts not so private and expressions so lewd
And with disturbing symbolism imbued)
And the many unlovely paintings of food
(pizzas, burgers, all multihued)
And the slapdash portraits, deliberately crude
Because a lot of this stuff should be harshly poo-poohed
Instead of feted and crated and bought and woo-wooed
There’s a grumpy grandma in a really bad mood
There’s a wolf (!) with a walking stick who’s completely unglued
There’s a vampire who looks like she’s just been shampooed
There’s a still life with lemons, there’s a demonic brood
The hysterical, the camp and the pleasantly subdued
There’s op, pop and crap and a girl in a snood
But then there’s a lot here which has to be viewed
It’s a Babel, a hotch potch, a blaring multitude
It’s a beautiful verisimilitude
This stuff is us, it’s our lives, so it does not exclude
The ugly and the trivial and the horribly rude
It's our memento mori and our beatitude
And on that banal note I shall finally conclude.
And my gallery brochure surreptitiously chewed
When those art critics drooled, billed and (yes) cooed
And babbled forth theories increasingly pseud
(And later made purchases financially shrewd)
Over the great and the not so great American nude
(Private parts not so private and expressions so lewd
And with disturbing symbolism imbued)
And the many unlovely paintings of food
(pizzas, burgers, all multihued)
And the slapdash portraits, deliberately crude
Because a lot of this stuff should be harshly poo-poohed
Instead of feted and crated and bought and woo-wooed
There’s a grumpy grandma in a really bad mood
There’s a wolf (!) with a walking stick who’s completely unglued
There’s a vampire who looks like she’s just been shampooed
There’s a still life with lemons, there’s a demonic brood
The hysterical, the camp and the pleasantly subdued
There’s op, pop and crap and a girl in a snood
But then there’s a lot here which has to be viewed
It’s a Babel, a hotch potch, a blaring multitude
It’s a beautiful verisimilitude
This stuff is us, it’s our lives, so it does not exclude
The ugly and the trivial and the horribly rude
It's our memento mori and our beatitude
And on that banal note I shall finally conclude.
just-for-fun
March 24, 2017(I have not read this book. However, there's very interesting poetic dialogue going on in Paul's thread which I felt, should be preserved for posterity. It's akin to Plato.
I state here that the copyright for the poems are with the posters - I am only the scribe. If you like this, please like Paul's review, not mine. :D)
Paul:
At smart gallery openings I might well have booed
And my gallery brochure surreptitiously chewed
When those art critics drooled, billed and (yes) cooed
And babbled forth theories increasingly pseud
(And later made purchases financially shrewd)
Over the great and the not so great American nude
(Private parts not so private and expressions so lewd
And with disturbing symbolism imbued)
And the many unlovely paintings of food
(pizzas, burgers, all multihued)
And the slapdash portraits, deliberately crude
Because a lot of this stuff should be harshly poo-poohed
Instead of feted and crated and bought and woo-wooed
There’s a grumpy grandma in a really bad mood
There’s a wolf (!) with a walking stick who’s completely unglued
There’s a vampire who looks like she’s just been shampooed
There’s a still life with lemons, there’s a demonic brood
The hysterical, the camp and the pleasantly subdued
There’s op, pop and crap and a girl in a snood
But then there’s a lot here which has to be viewed
It’s a Babel, a hotch potch, a blaring multitude
It’s a beautiful verisimilitude
This stuff is us, it’s our lives, so it does not exclude
The ugly and the trivial and the horribly rude
It's our memento mori and our beatitude
And on that banal note I shall finally conclude.
Lilo's cat:
Stupid human, can't you see,
I am creative when I pee.
I am keen to do my part
In what is now considered art.
Manny:
I look at this poem and think to myself, Dude!
Can I possibly find a rhyme that Paul has eschewed?
I supposed that in the Arctic there are Eskimos iglooed
And I don't see a mention of The Mystery of Edwin Drood.
Paul:
nor yet aluminium they love to extrude
I guess I just wasn't in that kind of mood
Manny:
If I could speak Hebrew I'd now possibly say Likud
And I just can't help wondering where Lilo's cat has pooed?
Nandakishore:
Even though in poetry, I'm no prude
Some of Paul's lines do sadly protrude;
And some together are rather ungainly glued-
Yet altogether, it does a charm exude.
Terri:
Your perspectives are pleasantly skewed
and hilarity therefore ensued.
Ivonne:
The doggerel is quite rude,
And yet I see five stars obtrude.
What's up, dude?
Lilo (in response to Manny's question):
In order to save you a sleepless night,
I’ll tell you the spots our Sugar Babe thinks right
To use for a loo
—For pee, not for poo.
His favorites are plastic bags left on the floor.
That’s why we don’t leave them there anymore.
Sorry, this poem is rather shitty.
Well, it’s about a not-too-clean kitty.
Paul:
O don't let me be misconstrued
Let my intention not elude
If I was a cow I would have mooed
On your TBR shelf it should be queued
Manny:
Zaphod Beeblebrox would call you a cool frood
While Marvin would wish a pox on you and your brood
Over these last rhymes, I have too long stewed
Dammit, I give up! I think I'm screwed.
Paul:
If you continue so charmingly to collude
This thread will reach infinitude
Nandakishore:
Paul, it's already multi-hued,
And does show a certain attitude. :)
Terri:
Say it straight out where others allude
When it ends Paul we'll all have boo-hooed.
Manny:
This is the most toxic piece you've ever reviewed!
Surely this madness can't be further pursued?
Before things go too far, I recommend that you'd
Best draw a line so it doesn't end in a bloody feud.
Nandakishore:
Manny,the poet's aptitude
Once unleashed, can hardly be subdued;
These lines shall continue to be spewed:
We'll persist, even though we be sued.
Ian:
It was once haiku'd,
Op art's more apt to delude
When you quaff what's brewed.
(After a quiet period of two days)
Nandakishore:
All is quiet. Can it be construed
As the end of this poetic interlude?
Or would it be more logical to conclude
That before the storm, this is just a prelude?
Manny:
Lennon might say, "Don't be afraid, Jude"
But I'd rather put that in the subjunctive mood
No matter how many rhymes we've now accrued
We surely must be close to a plenitude?
Terri:
when it's ended we'll all have boo-hooed.
Barbara:
but did it declare as Art the tattooed?
was it just Western Art or including Mahmood?
For it surely must be politically 'good'
if they hope for high sales once it has been reviewed
Nandakishore:
The question is whether this tome does include
Art across the globe; or does it willingly exclude
The non-Western world? Well, the query, though rude
is better asked... (Damn! Can't find a word ending in "ude"!)
Fionnula:
First prize for first and only reviewed
First prize for rhyming booed and cooed, dude
First prize for reversing a sceptical mood
First prize for this threadfull of versipitude
(...and it goes on...)
I state here that the copyright for the poems are with the posters - I am only the scribe. If you like this, please like Paul's review, not mine. :D)
Paul:
At smart gallery openings I might well have booed
And my gallery brochure surreptitiously chewed
When those art critics drooled, billed and (yes) cooed
And babbled forth theories increasingly pseud
(And later made purchases financially shrewd)
Over the great and the not so great American nude
(Private parts not so private and expressions so lewd
And with disturbing symbolism imbued)
And the many unlovely paintings of food
(pizzas, burgers, all multihued)
And the slapdash portraits, deliberately crude
Because a lot of this stuff should be harshly poo-poohed
Instead of feted and crated and bought and woo-wooed
There’s a grumpy grandma in a really bad mood
There’s a wolf (!) with a walking stick who’s completely unglued
There’s a vampire who looks like she’s just been shampooed
There’s a still life with lemons, there’s a demonic brood
The hysterical, the camp and the pleasantly subdued
There’s op, pop and crap and a girl in a snood
But then there’s a lot here which has to be viewed
It’s a Babel, a hotch potch, a blaring multitude
It’s a beautiful verisimilitude
This stuff is us, it’s our lives, so it does not exclude
The ugly and the trivial and the horribly rude
It's our memento mori and our beatitude
And on that banal note I shall finally conclude.
Lilo's cat:
Stupid human, can't you see,
I am creative when I pee.
I am keen to do my part
In what is now considered art.
Manny:
I look at this poem and think to myself, Dude!
Can I possibly find a rhyme that Paul has eschewed?
I supposed that in the Arctic there are Eskimos iglooed
And I don't see a mention of The Mystery of Edwin Drood.
Paul:
nor yet aluminium they love to extrude
I guess I just wasn't in that kind of mood
Manny:
If I could speak Hebrew I'd now possibly say Likud
And I just can't help wondering where Lilo's cat has pooed?
Nandakishore:
Even though in poetry, I'm no prude
Some of Paul's lines do sadly protrude;
And some together are rather ungainly glued-
Yet altogether, it does a charm exude.
Terri:
Your perspectives are pleasantly skewed
and hilarity therefore ensued.
Ivonne:
The doggerel is quite rude,
And yet I see five stars obtrude.
What's up, dude?
Lilo (in response to Manny's question):
In order to save you a sleepless night,
I’ll tell you the spots our Sugar Babe thinks right
To use for a loo
—For pee, not for poo.
His favorites are plastic bags left on the floor.
That’s why we don’t leave them there anymore.
Sorry, this poem is rather shitty.
Well, it’s about a not-too-clean kitty.
Paul:
O don't let me be misconstrued
Let my intention not elude
If I was a cow I would have mooed
On your TBR shelf it should be queued
Manny:
Zaphod Beeblebrox would call you a cool frood
While Marvin would wish a pox on you and your brood
Over these last rhymes, I have too long stewed
Dammit, I give up! I think I'm screwed.
Paul:
If you continue so charmingly to collude
This thread will reach infinitude
Nandakishore:
Paul, it's already multi-hued,
And does show a certain attitude. :)
Terri:
Say it straight out where others allude
When it ends Paul we'll all have boo-hooed.
Manny:
This is the most toxic piece you've ever reviewed!
Surely this madness can't be further pursued?
Before things go too far, I recommend that you'd
Best draw a line so it doesn't end in a bloody feud.
Nandakishore:
Manny,the poet's aptitude
Once unleashed, can hardly be subdued;
These lines shall continue to be spewed:
We'll persist, even though we be sued.
Ian:
It was once haiku'd,
Op art's more apt to delude
When you quaff what's brewed.
(After a quiet period of two days)
Nandakishore:
All is quiet. Can it be construed
As the end of this poetic interlude?
Or would it be more logical to conclude
That before the storm, this is just a prelude?
Manny:
Lennon might say, "Don't be afraid, Jude"
But I'd rather put that in the subjunctive mood
No matter how many rhymes we've now accrued
We surely must be close to a plenitude?
Terri:
when it's ended we'll all have boo-hooed.
Barbara:
but did it declare as Art the tattooed?
was it just Western Art or including Mahmood?
For it surely must be politically 'good'
if they hope for high sales once it has been reviewed
Nandakishore:
The question is whether this tome does include
Art across the globe; or does it willingly exclude
The non-Western world? Well, the query, though rude
is better asked... (Damn! Can't find a word ending in "ude"!)
Fionnula:
First prize for first and only reviewed
First prize for rhyming booed and cooed, dude
First prize for reversing a sceptical mood
First prize for this threadfull of versipitude
(...and it goes on...)
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews