Communication Devices: Part II

            To continue with the thought of how communication devices work great for machines but not so for humans:

            “Spain has tried to shrug off a comparison with Greece and Portugal — but markets were dubious following comments by EU Economy Commissioner Joaquin Almunia who said Wednesday that high wages and low productivity in all three make them less competitive against other European nations. Changing that would mean wide economic reforms — such as making labor conditions more flexible and opening up markets for goods and services. Greece is promising to do this but markets doubt that it can in time to generate growth. In the meantime, hefty public spending cuts could wreck any chance of economic recovery. “The reason why investors are so scared is that they find it difficult to see how these economies are going to return to reasonably robust growth or any growth,” said Tilford, adding that a devaluation usually accompanies such cuts. Euro countries no longer have their own currency to devalue, which boosts exports and makes them more attractive manufacturing destinations. So instead they have to force wages down by other means, in part by cutting them for public sector workers.”

Europe Debt Crisis Intensifies Feb 5, 2010 By AOIFE WHITE and PAN PYLAS, AP Business Writers

            Another AP article from the exact same day:

“JPMorgan Chase & Co. CEO Jamie Dimon received a stock bonus valued at nearly $16 million for 2009 after steering the big bank through the aftermath of the financial crisis, the company said Friday…. Like other big bank CEOs, Dimon received no cash bonus for 2009. Instead, he got $7.8 million in restricted stock and 563,562 in restricted stock options, JPMorgan said. The options are valued at about $8.1 million, bringing his total 2009 bonus to $15.9 million. Also on Friday, Goldman Sachs Group Inc. reported that CEO Lloyd Blankfein is getting a $9 million stock bonus for 2009. The bank said in a securities filing that Blankfein will receive more than 58,000 shares of restricted stock. Blankfein can’t cash in the shares for five years.”

            I guess the article that is missing, that we will probably never see from the AP or any other corporate news source (Rupert Murdoch owned or otherwise), is the interviews with folks in Greece, Portugal, or Spain as to how they feel about their wages going down, the loss of their jobs, and the disappearance of vital public services. Joyfully they will reply that “We need to guarantee that investors like Mr. Dimon, Mr. Blankfein, and other CEO’s will make good on their investments.” Machines get it, do we?

            So where does that leave practicing artists? The arts don’t exist separately, in a vacuum. They manifest what is already included in the world they find themselves in. With a Giacometti stick figure being fetched by the likes of Jamie or Lloyd, it gives us some inkling as to a ditto structure for artists. I guess what it says is that second (and third) tier artists should be prepared to dedicate and sacrifice themselves even more for the success and accomplishment of their first tier compatriots. It all seems so natural, almost Darwinian, doesn’t it?

“In other words, the problem is not simply that success and efficiency have become the supreme values of our late capitalist society (as we often hear from critics of this society) – there is nothing particularly new in this; social promotion of success (defined in different ways) has existed since time immemorial. The problem is, rather, that success is becoming almost a biological notion, and thus the foundation of a genuine racism of successfulness. The poorest and most miserable are no longer perceived as a socioeconomic class, but almost as a race of their own, as a special form of life. We are indeed witnessing a spectacular rise of racism or, more precisely, of “racization.” This is to say that we are no longer simply dealing with racism in its traditional sense of hatred toward other races, but also and above all with a production of (new) races based on economic, political, and class differences and factors, as well as with the segregation based on these differences. If traditional racism tended to socialize biological features- that is, directly translate them into cultural and symbolic points of a given order- contemporary racism works in the opposite direction. It tends to “naturalize” the differences and features produced by the sociosymbolic order.”

Pg. 5 and 6, The Odd One In: On Comedy  By Alenka Zupancic MIT Press 2008

Communication Devices: Ode to Marlene Dietrich

            Communication works real well with machines. If this weren’t so, reading this would not be possible. Machines can supply information as well as accumulate it. We call the exchange of this information “communication.” They can also respond immediately when the exchange has taken place, announcing or verifying that this has been so. Can as much be said for human interaction?

            When the monthly job statistics come out, do those who are hanging on with part time gigs consider themselves amongst the unemployed? When information is supplied showing a sharp increase in teen pregnancies, does Sarah Palin consider her family complicit? Human interaction differs markedly from machines. “Sharing” information doesn’t come as readily (capitalists will rock on their heels and gloat that it is more “give and take,” depending more on who is doing the giving, and who is taking). Responses are often assumed, existing in some “transcendent” nether world of nuanced body language, cultural etiquette, or norms of “good faith.” Whatever it is that folks do, it ain’t the same as machines.

            “Bouncing ideas off someone” is heard so often that it is now ubiquitous. Its meaning may invite an interpretation of what people do that isn’t what machines do. Of course, this is not for the squeamish since the phrase assumes that actually, I’m only speaking to myself; you are there only to echo my thoughts, to let me hear what I’m saying as it comes back to me, materially, sensually through my hearing capacity (Jenny Sanford says as much with her new book). So then, when do we actually want someone, other than ourselves, to receive information that we are supplying or return our inquiry, respond to our demand? The ancients believed such interaction was all only a matter of persuasion. But then, that again returns us to the solipsism of only interacting in order to get what we want in the first place (whether it be with the eloquence of words, or a gun).

            Folks constantly whipping out their cell phones and looking at them bring to mind the black and white Cagney-esque movies of the 1930’s and 40’s where women were always taking out compacts to view themselves in the mirror, partially to see if they were still all there (or at least the way they wanted to believe themselves to be), partially to block out those surrounding them so as to be alone. We miss you Marlene.

The Persistence Of This Semblance Of Persistence

            To say the words “Wexner Center For The Arts” in conjunction with “tradition,” “the arts tradition,” or “traditional art” doesn’t come trippingly to the tongue. Indeed, the mind recoils at the thought of the Wexner being implicated with traditional art (say it ain’t so, Les). The Columbus Museum of Art, no problem. But not The Wexner. The Wexner Center For The Arts continues a long line of institutions who pride themselves precisely on being distinguished from the traditional. When New York MOMA began, it originated the line of institutions dedicated to including only the current within their exhibition space. The opening of the Wexner Center coincided with the “updated “ versions of the MOMA original- the plethora of Museums of Contemporary Art (MOCA’s) that sprouted like Starbucks all over the place in the past 30 years. If it’s happening, if it is now, it’s us.

            But a short distance down the road from this international center of current culture is the Roy G. Biv Gallery For Emerging Artists. Their monthly exhibitions exclusively feature only recent work (1-2 years old). Even a shorter distance away (also on the same street) the Ohio Art League shares a gallery space. Its upcoming spring juried show requires that work submitted be done in the past 3 years. Here’s how The Wexner describes one of their current exhibitions (Hard Targets, running January 30 thru April 11):

            “70 thought provoking artworks created over the past 25 years by 21 different artists”

            25 years! That is more than a single generation, a quarter of a century (roughly the time from J. Pollock’s emergence to A. Warhol’s ascendency). It is not difficult to imagine the Wexner Center For The Arts describing their show as being 70 thought provoking artworks created within the past 3 years by 21 different artists. After all, the Roy does it all the time.

            “It may be that the continuity of tradition is mere semblance. But then precisely the persistence of this semblance of persistence provides it with continuity.”

Quote attributed to Walter Benjamin, page 486 of The Arcades Project, appearing in an essay entitled The Schmittian Messiah In Agamben’s The Time That Remains by Brian Britt, Critical Inquiry, Winter,2010

Emptiness And Jouissance

            The notion of emptiness is most intriguing. Though definable, like the empty set in Math, it still leaves one with a “miffed” sense of understanding (like the old saw about the two sailors on lookout duty upon the open water. One asks what the other sees. “I see nothing” she answers. “You see a lot” replies the interlocutor). Folks involved with meditation will often promote emptiness. Many texts on historic Eastern Philosophies (Chinese, Japanese, etc.) include it. Creative folks recount being empty, dry, “in the desert.” Emptiness and creativity do not appear to exclude each other. Rather, they appear to be intimately entwined. Emptiness seems to involve the in between, being without interest, without meaning or significance, detached. Within our positivist culture, these descriptions would be enough to immediately find oneself located among the depressed, lonely, or sad. That would be misunderstanding emptiness completely, as emptiness does not bear any taint of emotion (for then it would not be “empty”).

            Within Kant’s aesthetic, disinterest plays a major role in the consideration of beauty (quality). This was seized on by postmodern cultural theorists. Perhaps Kant was trying to say that emptiness was requisite to the apprehension of beauty? Assuming that Kant would have flat out come and said this (if that were the case) isn’t necessarily so. After all, the zero was never part of the historic Roman enumeration, and thus wasn’t able to be described as such at the time. Perhaps it was his way of trying to posit the necessity of emptiness (being without interest, in between, without meaning) in order to generate a space for quality. Perhaps it was a way for him to indicate that what is involved with the apprehension, let alone critique, of beauty is without meaning, without the incentive, the itinerary and agenda of interest. This as opposed to the sublime, where an event or experience is contained, limited by nature, but is unable to be explicated; explicitly, precisely defined (The Perfect Storm comes to mind as well as the current “too big to fail”). The relationship of jouissance to Kant’s sublime is that, by nature, it also is contained, limited, occurs within an envelope of space and time – yet it cannot be explicitly, completely, precisely or adequately defined. This lack of consistent definition makes it appear “like” it is without meaning, “like” it is disinterested (leaving one miffed as to its understanding). This is not the lack of meaning, in between-ness, or interest found with emptiness. Jouissance is never detached.

Quickie Opening Review

            Denison Museum opened a contemporary art show on January 22 which runs through the 22^nd of March. It consists of two shows, Close Encounters 2: Acts of Social Imagination (Curated by Donald H. Russell and Niels Van Tomme) and reimagining the distaff toolkit (Curated by Rickie Solinger). The first originates from Provisions Library, Resources for Arts and Social Change, Washington D.C., the second is from Wakeup/Arts.

            The Denison Museum is housed in Burke Hall and originally co-inhabited that part of the building with what was the Denison Art Gallery. The art gallery comprised several spaces, one of which was a very large, multi story, open room that served as the main gallery. Overtime the museum overwhelmed their contemporary art co-tenants and utilized all the spaces (the Denison Art Gallery vanished mysteriously). With this show the formerly large space is now utilized as a solely contemporary art venue.

            Admission to the show was like entering a Barnes and Noble, or Borders Books. As with these commercial spaces, one could visually take in the offerings but only partially. Physically one was challenged to negotiate a maze to approach the works themselves. This felt even more so given the crowded conditions of the opening. The residue of the vastness and continuity of the former gallery space could only be found by looking up at the ceiling. Below, renovation had “updated” the facility with room dividers, magazine racks, couches and coffee tables. The first show literally “was” all the vertical surface of the front section. Close Encounters 2 is a large show, both in physical space, innovation, and artists. It is comprised of celebrity art stars like Jenny Holzer, Cory Arcangel (14 in all). These folks believe themselves to have a lot to say and insist on being heard (obviously at that). This was accomplished through an “internet” format (one page after another with no neutral space in between); one artist’s presence immediately next to the other artist all along the walls and dividers without a break of any kind, each practically elbowing its neighbor for attention. The interactive component of so many of the works seemed to incarnate the lines “Eat me. Drink me.” cried out in Firesign Theatre’s How Can You Be In Two Places At Once When You’re Not Anywhere At All.

            The back section of the remaining contemporary art gallery was divided up into even smaller spaces. Here was the object culture part of the two shows – reimagining the distaff toolkit (in the first show, that media appliances are “objects” is “conceptually” elided). This show is comprised of discrete objects – found objects and memorabilia reprocessed, reconfigured, re-contextualized, rearranged. Because of their very nature (as objects) there is a separation, an innate neutrality between the individual works though they are confined in a much smaller space (the neutrality being that which is not the object). There are more works by twice the number of artists (27), none of whose celebrity has achieved celestial stardom as of this writing. Only a few of the works were interactive, their demands quite modest at best.

            Overall impressions: Folks were “socializing” (talking about career opportunities, family achievements, holiday vacation experiences, etc.) in the midst of the Close Encounters 2 presentation. Things were a bit subdued with the distaff toolkit, almost reflective (“how would this be with me, my life?”). I had the sense that the wallpaper of works by distinguished artists in Close Encounters provided a background distraction (like the TV being on all the time in so many American households), a sort of mall Muzak scenario that comforted people into visiting while the distaff section was visceral, and thereby keenly attuned to sensual resonance. Here textures, object histories, and the residue of human interaction connected immediately without the demands of extensive texts to read or interactive commitment found within the former show. The format of the first show invited, enhanced, and practically demanded solo interpretation (due to the preponderance of signifiers) while the distaff show allowed for a dialogic understanding of the works presented (by being grounded in the visceral).

            Final impression was sadness for the loss of the large, open, undivided public space where each viewer could autonomously prioritize and partition their experience according to their curiosity, interest, and disposition; evidence indeed of the passing of “the commons” in our culture.

House Haunting

            We all learn it early. It is a primary survival skill prerequisite of liquid modernity. One of the few determinations of perception we all hold in common. The ability to pick out the essential from the camouflage forest of advertising enables us to negotiate our way through a vampire world of print ads, infomercials, junk mail, spam, etc. It brings to mind the art of Liu Bolin.

            Recently I had the opportunity to briefly peruse the latest copy of Sculpture magazine.  I deftly navigated my way through the pages focusing my attention only on what the International Sculpture Center currently considers significant (at least prior to publication); that is, what entices the viewer to part with their money as opposed to what the ISC has deigned to include in order to get vendors to part with theirs. Later, I couldn’t remember seeing anything that was figurative within the magazine’s specific “content,” yet I distinctly remembered an image of a Marylyn Monroe piece, and of several other figurative works prominently presented. I double checked. Sure enough, within the category of works deemed currently significant in the estimation of this esteemed international organization, there were no figurative representations to be found. Yet the vendors of materials, services and educational opportunities gushed forth profusely in representative splendor, primarily hominid.

            This all evoked the spirit of House. House is often confronted with the fact that he doesn’t even know (or care to know) his patient’s name. When his recovering patient expresses personal gratitude, House has been known to say he doesn’t find the patient interesting anymore. Here, in stark contrast on the pages of the International Sculpture Center’s publication, is the clear dichotomy of the professional disposition regarding contemporary art, and everyone else.  Just as House is obsessed with diagnosing the problem through the efficacy and efficiency of science (and logic) while “humanity” swirls around him in the subjectivity of Cutty, Wilson and the various patients with their families, so with this issue of Sculpture, we find professional, “problem solving” 3D art surrounded by the subjectivity of human form. Our communally shared “survival skill prerequisites” inconspicuously entrap us and promulgate this distribution of sense (that the understanding of certain matters must always necessarily be deferred to those designated as “professionals”). It does this by dismissing anything with a face or a name. This separate “professional” aesthetic swims within the subjectivity of the vendors with their de facto preference of promoting their wares and services through human representation.

            One reading of this issue of Sculpture would have the viewer believe that representative figurative sculpture is simply not done within the contemporary. Another reading would have that it is done, but it is plebian, too uncouth for patrician tastes. A third reading, the one haunted by House, is that within culture, the arts can only reveal what is already integral to the culture, what comprises the distribution of sense. The International Sculpture Center’s publication clearly reveals this within the contemporary aesthetic, what is promulgated as “real” art and what aspires to be considered as such.

Cultural Car Crash

            We’ve just been through an economic “crash” that is not called a crash (thanks to the financial sector being subsidized by the tax payer in which case we all feel better calling it a recession and not a crash). Culturally, the US is positioning itself for a crash sometime in the future. Whether it will be called a “crash” or something else is anyone’s guess (I doubt any of it will be subsidized by the taxpayer. That entertains a bizarre scenario: a consumer culture subsidizing itself would be cultural cannibalism!).

            The imperial outlook maintained by American culture that we have enjoyed for the last half century is unsustainable. Getting what you want, when you want it is becoming passé. Right now the illusion of this paradigm is being maintained by communication technologies (both hard and soft ware). Many news/entertainment outlets have characterized the past decade as the decade of Now. I guess Now has come of age. With the turn of the century (remember the millennium bug scare?), communication technologies evolved and were propagated that provide access to information instantaneously- from navigation devices to real time video imaging. The imperial demand is well served by such devices. But can the same be said for the “non” information sector? Can you get “what you want when you want it”? Or are choices limited to “this is all that is available” (different store or source, same stuff), what is currently in stock, or “that is not produced or sold by us anymore”? In much of the “non” information sector of the US economy, the immediacy of communication technology appliances has not contributed to the availability of goods or services that are “what you want, when you want it” (try getting something repaired, whether it is a pair of shoes, a highway bridge, your car, or yourself). The aesthetic of these (the making and doing) is growing increasingly out of sync with the imperial demand. Part of the popularity of online shopping is that you can’t get the particular goods or service anywhere else. Then again, the appeal may be because the “what” is immediate but not the when. Recent catastrophe’s like the Indonesian Tsunami, Katrina and New Orleans, and the current quake in Haiti deny the comfort of considering a $10 text donation as an “immediate response.”

            The crash will occur when the disparity between the videos/games distraction provided by communication appliances and the necessity of everyday consumption becomes too great. You can only stomach so much substandard food and watered down drink in a strip bar before it becomes “imperative” that you are not getting what you want, when you want it; that you are paying too dearly because your attention is on the fascination with something else. I guess one now needs to update the old saw about the used car for sale – “doesn’t run but the On Star works just fine”.

            The imperial outlook is fostered, cultivated, and reproduced by the schools, with its full fashioning found in the overriding “time is of the essence” pressure of undergraduate and graduate scheduling systems (learning divided up into quarters and semesters and 4 year programs, etc.). Because this outlook is so deeply engrained, it will not be gradually displaced or replaced, not even with a “crash”. Like the current shell game of information technology appliances (under which shell is the development of tomorrow to be found?), what is displaced or replaced after a crash may not be known as an imperial outlook, but it will still maintain many of the same characteristics. Cultural affinities have an uncanny ability to retain their core “ethnic” characteristics long after those exigencies have become outdated.

Holiday Odds and End

            The year ended with some telling anecdotal descriptions of our culture. There was the couple in Oregon who found themselves stranded by their literal embrace of the virtual. Sure, old Garmin gave them the shortest, most fuel efficient route. On the screen, it looked like a straight line. Unfortunately it didn’t include topography (or meteorology). One can only imagine them as art students in the late 90’s stressing out over the importance of context. Indeed, that has left its mark with studio art pedagogy. Sculpture classes have now been updated to “Sculpture in Context.” 3D doesn’t exist in the virtual, or does it?

            Dick Cheney was real quiet in the run up to the holidays. You’d think that in the spirit of the recession and all, he would have gotten the word out that he wanted everyone to be happy, a kind of season’s greeting. The last time we heard from him was during the president’s visit to Asia. Seems the president wasn’t “imperial” enough in the presence of the Japanese emperor for Dick’s taste. Like a hasty, last minute bad conscience Christmas card that arrives after the holiday (the kind you quickly mail out the day before Christmas after the mail carrier has left well wishes from someone not included on your list), Dick reminded us of how fortunate we are to be alive, and that under his and George’s administration there were no terrorist attacks; the dots were always connected.

            It’s the carryover in all this that resonates; the residual form which technology just doesn’t embody, let alone convey. In the first instance it is the residual preference of being mindless once the tickets are in hand and all contingencies accounted for with their purchase. With Dick, it is the residue of imperialism. One would like to believe that with any change (like upgrading to a GPS over the old paper Rand McNally) everything would become different. Yet the same imperial outlooks and expectations remain, though the faces have changed and the names are different. The current brouhaha with Harry Reid illustrates this nicely. Racial stereotypes once were used to perpetrate apartheid dispositions. These are now deployed in TV, movies, and popular advertising as representative and promotional of complete integration. The stereotypes remain, only what we call them and how they are to be visualized has changed. We celebrate a New Year, but we are ever so careful to elide any reference to the residual forms, the carryover that is our culture.

La Boheme and Warhol

            “Good business is the best art” changes the face of art.  The best art for the late 19^th, early 20^th century was that which offered an alternative to the hierarchical representation of what had been called academic art. If you were any good at that, you would be included. Later, the best art was … art that was expressionist, or non objective, or abstract, or minimal. If you were doing that, you showed. Now, good business is the best art. If it doesn’t sell, it doesn’t show. Ranciere writes that what becomes visible within the visual arts cannot be there unless it has already been included within the distribution of the sensible. The revolutionary aspect of the art of Cezanne, Van Gogh, Monet, Picasso, etc. only presented what was already in play because of the social/political upheavals of the 19^th century. The many and various opera’s written or presented at this time exemplify this quite nicely. Giacomo Puccini’s La Boheme would not have been possible without the previous Parisian upheavals and resultant communes. Much American abstract, non objective, minimalist art of the middle 20^th century would not have achieved visibility if it were not for the equalizing imperative put forth by the country’s social movements of the 1930’s through the 60’s. What does this say about the best art of today and its visibility? What does this say about the artists, the makers and doers?

            In La Boheme, Rudolfo describes his poet/artist’s situation as being one of living “in cheerful poverty.” This image, or caricature, of the artist, as living in a loft, scraping to get by, continued well into the late 20^th century. Vestiges of it can still be found in TV ads for “Starving Artist” sales at interstate highway motels (“nothing over $50”, the perfect venue for cheap quickies!). Living in cheerful poverty is the last thing any current aspiring artist would want to admit to, let alone be seen as. What is aspired is to be a professional, like a dentist, lawyer, doctor, or engineer. Today’s professional artist must be able to be plunked down anywhere on the planet and produce art, much as an architect or veterinarian would be able to function. The economics of such mobility implicates business acumen, for without it there is no globalization. Louis Armstrong may have been described as America’s goodwill ambassador during the cold war but this was only because, at the time, such a performance schedule wouldn’t exactly have been described as good business. Having a great paying, steady gig in Vegas, LA, or New York would have been. The difference of note between La Boheme and Warhol is not that of economic status, of poverty or wealth. Rather, it is difference itself. It is the status or place of alterity. La Boheme embodies an alternate imaginary and considers its possibilities, outcomes, consequences, sustainability, viability, value and worth. There is an “other” to what is the presumed or accepted status quo (just as Armstrong’s art provided an alternative). With Warhol, there is no alterity. All is simply subject to the studied principles of good business. “Good business is the best art.” Bad business, or no business, is no art at all.

            There is another, even more subtle undertow here. One that sheds light on the best art of today more than it does on its producers. It could be said that Rudolfo embraces an idealistic positivism. Warhol, on the other hand, embraces a pragmatic positivism. Is art just about maintaining a positive attitude? That rich or poor, it really doesn’t matter as long as the art embodies a cheerful outlook? Maintaining a positive presentation is fundamental to marketing. Such art would not be visible (as the best art) if it weren’t for the dominant omnipresence of marketing over the past half century.

Good business is the best art.

            An acquaintance stopped in to visit. He was in the states from Tokyo where he is living, studying Japanese and traditional wood block print making.  The few prints he brought to show were gorgeous, a step up from what I had seen the last time he was by. We talked of what life in Tokyo is like. I asked about the art scene, whether he was showing anywhere. He looked at me quizzically. He couldn’t afford to show, he said. In addition to paying a hefty commission if the works sell, the individual artist must pay the gallery in order to show. Few artists can afford that, he said. Like in the states, most producing artists work at some day job. In Japan, art, as an avocation, is seen more as a “hobby” than as a calling or occupation. People produce, they just don’t show. Only the “recognized,” successful artists show. Here in the states, there is an entire population of art producers, who consider themselves artists, hidden in plain site. They show, extensively at that, from community organized events and co op galleries, small “for profit” gallery venues to larger, not for profit juried exhibitions that have corralled upscale venues like art museums and public buildings. The “recognized,” successful artists are never seen in conjunction with this shadow contingent, never shown on the same stage. Their light shines too bright.

            I suspect that all may be changing in the direction of the Japanese model. I was considering a recent “call for entries,” you know, the application that is the first step for the unrecognized to get their work “out there”. The “call” application specifies the entry fee for consideration, the commission terms of the gallery/event, as well as the criteria by which work to be included will be selected. This “call” was put out by a “not for profit” community arts organization. They have just completed building a new arts center in their upscale suburb. Now they would like to line up showings and events for this building’s main gallery and adjacent spaces. There was a new criteria for selection included that I had never seen before, at least not with a not for profit sanctioned show like this. The application wanted to know whether the prospective artist will supply marketing resources, and if so, how much and what kind.

            This just in: The celebrated art school in an adjacent city (with a century of experience) has just announced they will be offering an MFA program in the upcoming year. Part of the required curriculum is, you guessed it, courses in marketing. “Good business is the best art.”

            Warhol’s imperial grip on 21^st century American visual culture can best be summarized in his oft repeated quote: “Making money is art, and working is art, and good business is the best art.” Aligned with the market centered, market driven political economy of the last 10 years, it is no wonder that BFA programs now shepherd aspiring artists in the intricacies of business management and entrepreneurship, and MFA programs are now poised to hone their marketing skills. Is it too early to speculate on Warhol’s place in art history? Could it just be possible, even probable, that Warhol will follow the same course as Social Realism did in the states of the former Soviet Union? After all, those works and that style maintained a hegemony on visual art for some 50 years primarily because of their intimate affiliation with the political economy of that time. Portraying the best art as good business promotes the same sort of social engineering agenda that portraying larger than life stereotypes as citizen worker heroes does. There is a distribution of sense in both that restricts the capacity of imagination and restrains its expression. What could post Warhol visual art be like? Dare we even imagine it?