Buckley is famous today (...or more famous than usual, I guess).

Yeah, I actually went to highschool with this girl... ran cross-country with her for a year. But I can't remember for the life of me whether we took AP Studio Art together. Aliza was in the class right below mine, so we should have shared at least one year together. And while my memory may suck for all things academic, I have an amazingly photographic memory for anyone who spent any time in Rourk's art room at all. Maybe I don't remember her because her artwork never stood out in my mind as "great"? Well she's certainly turning heads now. Shock value, anyone?

I'm pretty sure this isn't the kind of publicity that Buckley - much less Yale - was bargaining for.

Another art scandal I read about yesterday concerns Guillermo Vargas Habacuc, a Costa Rican artist. From a humanist point of view, what he did was beyond cruel. From an objective, purely "artistic" point of view, he got his message across. From neither point of view should his exhibit be repeated. He also uses shock value to encourage discussion, but unlike with Aliza's work, the artist in me can actually sympathize with Habacuc's. But before I get labeled as an animal-hater, let me clarify. My opinion only makes sense within the context of my definition of art. Fact: if Habacuc's goal was to educate the public about the downfallings of humanity, to encourage discussion about why passers-by did not feed the dog when food was easily within their reach... well, he succeeded. If "great art" is meant to be didactic, Habacuc was certainly more adept than Aliza, who tramples the biological miracle of pregnancy and spits in the face of mothers and mothers-to-be everywhere; try as I might, I can't even guess at what message her work is trying to deliver.

But of course, as in all fields of practice, there is no one way to present an art piece and get your message across. There is a way around every artistic problem, and any practicing artist knows that. I'm a firm believer in the ideas that [1] "art for fun" should not really be controversial, and [2] "art for a purpose" should not be so controversial to the point where the lesson is lost amidst heated debate. Habacuc's was "art for a purpose," but he did not have to do what he did to that poor dog, just to prove his point. After reading the response to his work, I'm certain that much of the general public cannot get over the ethical questions associated with his exhibit to appreciate his true message. I mean, dogs are okay... they're not my favorite pet. But even I had to sit back and detach from the emotional pull of the piece. For Habacuc's distasteful approach, I cannot condone his success. For the same reason (and more), I cannot condone Aliza's 15-minutes-of-fame.

Sometimes I think the only reason I miss Buckley is that I was a great artist in highschool. Studio art was the one constant throughout my 6 years at Buckley. People came and went, but I was always one of the best at art. The Buckley arts program was top notch after Rourk took over. And I was definitely spoiled because tuition covered the hefty cost of all our art supplies and modeling fees. The art room was always a place I could go if it was raining outside and I needed a warm place to eat lunch, or if I needed to do detention (once!) but wanted to get off easy. My mediums of choice were acrylics, charcoal, conte, pastels, and color pencils - and oftentimes any combination thereof. I was always Rourk's favorite, and that was nice, but he also pushed me to do things with art that I ordinarily would have avoided. The result was that I learned how to make watercolor, India inks, gel media, and gouache work for me. One time, I made a metal plate etching, and I can still recall the smell the turpentine like it was yesterday. Really, it was a blessing to have such a wide exposure to artistic practices, not to mention the opportunity to sell a painting.

I'm glad I never did sell that painting; the proposition was enough. Still, there will always be a part of me that itches to make art. I think that's ultimately the source of my Peter Pan complex. But my decision to not sell my painting tells me that, deep down, I feel like I'm only meant to get a taste of the art world, not to live in the thick of it. And I feel like that's enough for me. But that doesn't mean there won't always be a part of me asking "What if?" It's unreal and a little insulting to see someone from my highschool, who did have the chance to be great and who IS living in the thick of things, making a mockery of themselves in the name of art.

All in all, I'm happy where I am and, truly, not at all jealous, hard as that may be to believe. I'd rather be a successful amateur, slightly removed from the art world, than claim to be a professional, masquerading in the midst of it.