Jerry Saltz

Since the birth of the avant-garde in the mid-nineteenth century, art history has been considered mainly in formal ways: What led to what, who begat whom. That approach has a way of shutting out a basic idea—namely, the visionary, shamanic inexplicability of most of what we see. Johnson’s idea brings such an escape from reason back into the discussion, and could relegate some major art to the margins and move marginal (and questionable) things to the center. Keeping psychedelia in mind as you look at art stops it from being just a building block or part of a stylistic family; it allows recent work to regain some of the value that art has had over its 50,000-year history.

Drunk vs. Stoned

According to the press release, "Drunk and stoned can be seen as metaphors for two different approaches to making art."

The stoned sensibility is easily fixated, fascinated, or surprised. Stoned meanders, fills in space with small or repeating marks and gestures, or gets super-focused. It loves spirals, circles, and patterns, bright colors and endlessly embellished areas. It's located more in the fingers than the arm; the eyes, not the gut. While it's physically tingly, it's also very out-of-body. Stoned is prone to being anal-retentive.

The drunk sensibility is more outward, uninhibited, turbulent, impulsive, and clownish. It's romantic, occasionally morose, likes to share feelings, and isn't afraid of sloppy emotions. Globally speaking, Europe is more drunken than the United States, which had been drunk in the early 1980s, sobered up in the '90s, but may be flirting with getting stoned again. Asia and South America seem stoned to me. Africa, as Okwui Enwezor said, is "psychotic." (Jerry Saltz)


Tyson Reeder, Serpent 2003