RIP mark fisher, you would've loved jeremy scott's moschino
jeremy scott and jeff koons are similar in many ways. for starters, any mention of them will provoke a scornful look upon the perfectly made up faces of fashion critics. both men possess a palpable unlikeability, and play a popular role in the art world known as uncharismatic white guy who overestimates the depth of his own works. despite their claims to make profound cultural statements, both artists seem to cater to the mega-rich, without maintaining the class and timelessness that makes wealth seem desirable in the first place.
now, i don't disagree with any of this. i too roll my eyes when i come across a koons balloon animal, and you'd never catch me dead in any of scott's more ambitious designs—and not just cause i can't afford them. in a way, both koons and scott represent the gauche distaste of the nouveau riche—that bold, brash flaunting of money that makes their technicolor blazers and metallic sculptures seem cheaper than they really are. but in a society wrecked by late stage capitalism, this sort of trashiness can easily transform into something valuable. in this entry, i want to dissect the works of scott and koons, to see if i can salvage anything redeemable from what many consider to be an aesthetic hellfire.
first, koons:
a major complaint about jeff koons is that he doesn't take risks. his name is now synonymous with those wretched metallic dogs, and whether he likes that or not, it makes him a fortune. but koons wasn't always that guy making sculptures for office lobbies and louis vuitton stores. at one point he took risks; at one point he wanted trouble.
believe it or not, i was actually quite the jeff koons fangirl when i was younger. (younger, of course, meaning two or three years ago...) i saw ushering in banality at the stedelijk and was immediately captivated by its kitschy, tacky madness. at that point, i was peripherally aware of his balloon animal works, but ultimately, it was banality that held my attention.
the banality series debuted in 1988, and was quickly bashed by critics and corporations alike. the works took inspiration from classic cartoons, celebrities, and hummel figurines—those semi-creepy, semi-cute porcelain children you might find on your grandma's mantle—bending quite a bit of copyright rules in the process. koons' main defense was that banality fell under parody protection, that his use of figures like the pink panther and garfield's odie were for social commentary. his use of the title banality—meaning boring, unoriginal, vapid—provides context for which the sculptures can be understood. was koons' use of popular culture an attempt to take credit for, or subvert the products we consume?
take michael jackson and bubbles, for example, a porcelain sculpture of the pop star and his pet monkey reclining on a bed of flowers. despite its vibrant exterior, the work is devoid of any sense of life. it seems as though jackson is encased within his gilded shell, robbing him of identity, reverting him to nothing more than a product. the sculpture doesn't resemble jackson as much as it resembles the jackson brand, a golden pop star just waiting to be consumed by the public. koons compared his depiction of jackson to a modern apollo—a divine, golden kouros that is the image of masculine life. now, this seems like a pretty far jump from the inanimate soullessness of michael jackson and bubbles. but perhaps the apollonian figure of american society isn't a person at all, but a product.
in his 2008 book capitalist realism, mark fisher claims that it is easier to imagine the end of the world than it is to imagine the end of capitalism. "capitalist realism," he argues, "entails subordinating oneself to a reality that is infinitely plastic, capable of reconfiguring itself at any moment." as michael jackson and bubbles demonstrates, godliness in the era of late capitalism transcends humanity as a whole. the highest, most evolved version of yourself that you can be is entirely inhuman. to be sacred is to be profitable, and to be profitable is to surrender any element of yourself that isn't contained within that porcelain shell. that is the brilliance behind jeff koons' banality. the purpose of the art isn't to encourage consumption but to poke holes in its utter lifelessness. by presenting viewers with these extrapolated versions of modern culture, banality forces us to confront how boring american society has become.
and now, scott:
hailing from kansas city, it's no surprise that jeremy scott produces designs saturated in americana. like koons, his start was far more subdued than the garish work he'd produce in his heyday. before becoming the creative director of moschino, scott got his start designing clothes for his own label, and producing runway shows with eccentric themes (all white hospital gowns one year, all black trash bags the next) that were generally enjoyed by critics. through the years, scott amassed a cult following for his playful and provocative designs, and become a staple for pop culture's favorite weird girl—björk. after securing several collaborations with adidas, scott's designs began to make their way towards the mainstream, much to the chagrin of critics and consumers. at this point, scott's designs were known in the industry, but few took them seriously, and most found them tacky.
so naturally, scott's 2014 debut as moschino's creative director earned some harsh words from the public. models strutted down the runway swathed in giant candy wrappers and nutrition facts labels. one woman, perhaps the most unlucky of the bunch‚ sported a bright red sweater and skirt set, with yellow trim and a big, bold letter "M" emblazoned on the front. the outfit clearly references the mcdonalds logo, yet "moschino" is written directly underneath it, creating a dissonance not unlike that of a stroop evaluation.
essentially, scott's designs function as challenges for viewers, urging them to question the significance that brands have in our lives. capitalism has made consumption virtually inseparable from every other facet of life, so much so that the mere presence of a yellow letter "M" can evoke feelings of hunger, joy, or disgust. how, exactly, did we get to a point where a company is able to exert control over our thoughts through a simple image or combination of colors? our old friend mark fisher says that the problem is "not the incorporation of materials that previously seemed to possess subversive potentials, but instead their precorporation: the preemptive formatting and shaping of desires, aspirations, and hopes by capitalist culture." the problem, then, is to find a way to subvert media without letting capitalism permeate our thoughts. this is where i think scott is able to shine. the ugliness of his designs provoke confusion, contempt, and outright horror, but like koons does in banality, scott uses shock to his advantage. the inclusion of familiar products in scott's designs don't serve to promote them exactly. rather, they act as over-the-top parodies of american culture at large. only a nation truly steeped in late capitalism would allow for the existence of a model dressed like a happy meal, and the more scornful critics become, the less they appear to be in on the joke.
tl;dr
so, what exactly is my point here? i am certainly not about to argue that koons and scott are pioneers of anti-capitalism. both artists are deeply entrenched in an industry that values money above all, and their contributions do nothing but encourage that, despite holding opposing sentiments. rather, i wanted to look at the commonly criticized works of koons and scott, and approach them with an understanding of our current economic state. like fisher claims in his book, capitalism shifts the way that we perceive art, making the subversive seem tame, the natural seem constructed, and the existence of a mcdonalds dress seem like a serious choice for the runway. we may not be able to vanquish the omnipresence of mass corporations, but we do have a say in how we react. as scott and koons (perhaps unintentionally) show us in their works, absurdity is the most powerful defense against a money-driven world.
note: i know the title of this blog is *technically* inaccurate. mark fisher died in 2017 (on my birthday actually) and scott took over moschino in 2014. but c’mon, it’s a good one…
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