Pointe of Art

Is Art Cool? - 3/05
by Robert Maniscalco

I'm not a cool person. They can dress me up to look cool. I've played cool on TV. But I'm really not cool. That's ok, I'm cool with it. On the other hand, with all this talk about "cool cities" I thought we should take a moment to deconstruct cool. Trouble is, even the word "deconstruct" is no longer cool, so this isn't going to be easy. But I'm cool with that, too.

The difficulty is that cool is like silence: the moment you speak its name it's no longer there. It is the ephemeral nature of cool that concerns me most, particularly since we have now firmly planted the future of arts funding in the soil of cool.

Advertisers drive themselves crazy trying to determine the latest in cool. Remember those Quiznos commercials with the dancing turds singing about subs? No? I'm not surprised, they pulled those spots pretty quickly; turns out dancing turds weren't so cool after all. Cool is a pretty tricky commodity. It's like the old adage: "I don't know anything about art but I know what I like." We know cool when we see it. At least the big corporations have the demographic studies to back them up. Nevertheless, cool is subjective. Cool is temporary. Cool is indefinable by its very nature.

If we take a look at the word itself we can see the problem. To be cool is to be detached in some way. Cool people let things slide. They hang loose. Nothing bothers them. It's all cool. Cool people like to think of themselves as unique but they're not. By definition, cool people lack passion, which is really cool if you want to follow the crowd, which, by the way, is what Nike really wants you to do. But that's cool. They have billions invested in marketing cool.

Cool people get along in life without too much hassle. They know how to keep their cool. When others are getting all up in your face about not-so-cool stuff like war, moral values and social security, cool people manage to stay pretty cool. While I think I'm pretty cool with people who are cool I'm also cool with those who aren't. Tolerance, it seems, is no longer cool, which is totally un-cool.

Sometimes it seems nothing I do is cool. For instance, when I see a painting or listen to a musical composition that is clearly intended to be shocking I'm happy to report I'm still able to find it within myself to be shocked. Being shocked is definitely not cool. Remember the now famous depiction of the Virgin Mary made with cow dung? That shocked a lot of people; they got on their high horse and made a big fuss. Mayor Giuliani even tried to close down the museum. Clearly, these people weren't being cool. Most never bothered to look at the work. We've got Liberals refusing to see that Mel Gibson movie and the religious right refusing to watch that Michael Moore flick. It seems no one is really cool any more.

I wonder if it's even possible for human beings to get upset and still be cool about allowing others to express themselves. That would be cool. The ACLU isn't cool but I'm sure glad they're out there fighting for my freedom to not be cool if I want.

Frankly, I think being cool is overrated. That's why I'm just a little concerned about the "cool cities" bit. It feels like we're trying desperately to fit artists into just another neat, harmless little category, which has no real meaning. Aren't we eviscerating ourselves by suggesting the arts are cool or that the arts have some unique power to attract cool people. Aren't we further marginalizing our importance to society by embracing this catch-all label? Sure, we'd all like to think we were cool. But the artists I know are anything but cool. Artists are hot. They are bothered. Most have something to say and damn it they're going to say it. That's what it means to be an artist.

I'm aware there's another dimension to the word cool, however. It's the bit great marketers are banking on; it's also what the cool cities people are hoping people recognize: there's a part of us that celebrates the mavericks, the visionaries--those bold few who have the tenacity to put art galleries in dilapidated old buildings on Rosa Parks or Milwaukee or Grand River--long forgotten sections of a troubled city. I was even silly enough (or bold enough) to open a serious art gallery in Grosse Pointe, a place where few had ever succeeded. I thought, "Let's bring cool to Grosse Pointe." Well, It's been eight years and I'm not so sure how cool an idea that was. In reality, there's very little that's cool about setting yourself apart from the pack. I get a kick out of the way Gary Larsen depicted it as a befuddled cow, literally "out, standing in his field." Being cool can get pretty lonely at times.

There is something definitely inspiring about discovering and being part of a happening, stimulating arts scene. That's what the arts community has committed itself to--call it what you will. One thing is certain: art is eternal. Cool, on the other hand, may not always be cool. It is a word, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

List of Essays