Hello uncultured swine!
Put me in a deerstalker and call me Sherlock Holmes because I have a two part explainer incoming and it involved snooping, albeit very little. Though it’s a risk throwing my weight behind an artist of Ken Done’s era (cancellation danger zone), he functions as a good proxy for commercial artist’s at large and how very fucking punk they just might be. Ready your magnifying glass, we’re deducing:
He’s just Ken
Many artists lauded by artistic institutions today were once their biggest nuisances. The art game is flirty like this: an artist tries to get recognised, the institutions decline, the artist decides they don’t need them, and the institutions come crawling back. It was true for Claude Monet, Edvard Munch, Gustave Courbet and maybe - though probably not - Ken Done.
Done (above) was the taste-maker of 80’s Australia, you figuratively couldn’t shit without using a Done designed toilet roll. His work is bright, patterned, colourful, assaulting to anyone who’s had a bad mushroom experience and, of course, to anyone with ~taste~.
Having left conventional schooling in 1954 to attend the National Art School in Sydney, Done had a burgeoning artistic pedigree before realising art is nice but regular meals are also good. He soon sold his soul for a career in advertising, signing the contract in blood and making an oath, Barefoot Investor in hand, to never touch a paintbrush again.
Though this obviously wasn’t his fate, the advertising tidbit is important. Because Done is a precocious businessman cum artist. He knew these two disciplines could work in tandem and, without creative compromise, he might make a living as an artist without the artistic institutions’ say so. By becoming, instead, hugely successful commercially. And that he did.
By the age of 40, Done was painting full-time. His moving and shaking in the creative industry led to the opening of a design firm, gallery, exhibitions globally, gift shops with his designs on mugs, dresses, scarves, bed spreads, tote bags, books - any fucking surface that could be printed, would. Critics considered him a hack and sell-out as the upper echelons hastily hid their Done dinner plates from view.
This is colonial Australia. Self-promotion is classless and commercial success is not a righteous artistic pursuit. I can argue the rotten outcomes of commercialisation, of which there are plenty, but Ken Done is not one. And here’s why:
Done’s paintings and compositions are… actually good. Ignore the fact that you’ve seen them on greeting cards and look at them for their artistic merit. There’s clear connective tissue between Bougainvillea barbeque (above) and Henri Matisse, whom Done cites as an influence. The rudimentary but distinctive shapes, a perspective only sensical if you’re stoned, and the element synonymous with Fauvism: colour, colour, colour.
My head is often overloaded before entering my own studio. To pacify optimisation anxieties and self-doubt I tell myself, “I’m just playing”. The outcome can be absolute dog shit, but the process is always joyful. Playfulness seeps into every aspect of Done’s work, and it’s so pleasant to behold. Even on-the-nose paintings such as Sydney Sunday (above above) are fun. Still, somewhere, somehow, we conflated reverence with real art.
Though Done’s work wasn’t welcome in the Art Gallery of NSW, it’s pleasantness was invited into countless homes. And whilst I don’t deny the importance of institution approved art, Done indiscriminately disseminating his art is a noble pursuit often overlooked.
We can interpret a similar nobility in Etsy or Instagram artists, market stalls with handmade bits and bobs, small galleries that exhibit local artists alongside terrifyingly large earrings and an owner in Camilla Kaftans. Forsaking prestige by removing the barrier to entry is, in the words of 10cc, “Art for Art’s Sake” (but not “Money for God’s Sake” because Done became quite rich and also, artists need to pay rent).
“In the times in which we live it is far too restricting to say that art can only be found in art galleries and not touch people's everyday lives.. I want to use any means that are necessary to communicate to people what I feel about things. There are no rules. And if there are rules, then you may as well break them.” - Ken Done
I’m taking a long hard look at myself, I wrote about Edouard Manet being a fuck-boy yet am deadly serious about Ken Done’s honour? Done is inspired by the Australian sun and it’s relationship to colour under the near inescapable brightness. Shine that amount of light on Australia’s art industry and you might understand my dilemma… that’s for part two.
Very I Know What You Did Last Summer energy to end this week eh?
As a pace change, I was interrupted part way though writing this when editor, Grace, messaged “PLEASE LISTEN TO TRIPLE J HOTTEST 100 THIS YEAR, IT’S FOR THE GIRLS!” and I did, and it was. The times, they are a changin!
Thank you as always, love you c*nts! Like, subscribe, send it to people IDC! Promote me because I am just too lazy to do it myself.
C U Next Tuesday,
Maggie jeannnnnnn xxxxx