By Harriet Cash


The news of the vandalism of a Mark Rothko painting in the Tate Modern seems to have been met mostly with frothing outrage and indignation – and rightly so, you might well argue. Down the ages, works of art have fallen victim to sabotage and defacement for more or less artistic reasons; from Two Naked Men Jump Into Tracey’s Bed (a performance piece in its own right), to pissing in Duchamp’s Fountain, via the firing of a shotgun at a Da Vinci painting, the art establishment really has seen it all.

 

The interesting thing is that most of these historic acts of vandalism have been motivated by artistic concerns and a serious engagement with the work, if not of the traditional reverent, contemplative sort. One disgruntled Guardian journalist* claims that Vladimir Umanets’ “tagging” of the Rothko should not be labelled thus, since the term implies some sort of creative action. I am an art fan, a Rothko fan, but although every fibre of my being recoils from the idea of tampering with the great painter’s original idea, I can’t help but tend to disagree.

 

At the very least, there is something strangely fascinating, titillating even, about this and other acts of artistic vandalism. It forces us to confront our preconceptions about art, originality and authorship. And while I wish Umanets’ hadn’t altered (I really hesitate to say ‘defaced’, which feels to strong a condemnation) that wonderful painting, I can’t help but be intrigued by the public reaction to his action. Possibly it has to do with the fact that he chose as his target a work of modern art. I could imagine scholars and curators of Botticelli or Da Vinci exploding in blustery outrage at someone doodling on a great old work. Some part of me, though, expected those in the sphere of modern art to be a bit less, well…uptight.

 

Couldn’t we see Umanets’ scribbling as the ultimate level of engagement with a piece of art, a kind of postmodern pastiche or collage of ideas? No, maybe not. How about as the art equivalent of a Youtube video response? Well, no again, probably. Although Umanets’ self-created theory of “Yellowism” and the mental creativity behind it (contentious, maybe, but I think there is creativity there) fit this analogy, there is the unavoidable fact that an internet comment or response does not involve altering the original piece, merely the presenting an oppositional argument or reaction.

 

Still, although I’m not going to condone defacing (interacting with?) public works of art, I think this particular act of so-called vandalism has raised enough interesting, important questions about the state of art and our feelings toward it not to warrant serious repercussions for the vandal. Many have pointed out that although there is a certain intellectualism behind Umanets’ action, he is no Rothko, no great artist himself. Well, says who? When did we become so precious about who is and isn’t an artist? What really separates Duchamp, say, or any other great controversial artist, from Umanets, besides a canon of work and the fact that they’ve been dead for years?

 

I’m not advocating drawing on great masterpieces. I’m really not. But I have honestly been a little startled by the art and media establishment’s great rush not to understand, not even to try and understand or think about what this signifies. The backlash from the whole thing will likely result in more bulletproof glass and alarmed barriers between us and artworks as the creators intended us to experience them. That kind of reaction amounts to putting our fingers in our ears, putting a buffer between ourselves and outside ideas, and that will never be a good thing.


Maybe Umanets and his Yellowist comrades really are just publicity seekers, maybe they’re just yanking our chain. They have some interesting ideas, though, which you can read more of here.

www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2012/oct/08/rothko-vandalism-painting-attacked

http://www.dontpaniconline.com/magazine/arts/yellowism-interview-with-the-rothko-vandals