This is a continuation of Post 1, and 2.

My thing with art has always been that is should be good enough to be remembered, and who cares if it is deep enough for the critics ! If I go to a home or to a public place and there’s stuff hanging on the walls, and when I return home, all I can remember is “stuff” and not the details, then that has really not been art for me. Hence my distaste for the generic plant/vases/fruits/animal paintings you see everywhere.

I like Jack Vettriano’s work, although some of his paintings are too mushy and too obvious for my taste. I like the “Singing Butler” because it’s got that hint of romance, but then again, “Dance me to the end of love” is a bit much. A lot of Vettriano paintings feature nicely dressed people on the beach. And interestingly, Vettriano started out as a mining engineer, only accidentally turning to painting when he was given a set of paints by a girl-friend.

Above : Jack Vettriano’s “The Missing Man I”

Vettriano’s art is much maligned as being “vulgar and devoid of imagination”. But in that respect I think the criticism of apparently “frothy” art is similar to the criticism of “frothy” books. Must we read only literature and must we view only “deep” art ? What about the whimsical, the light-hearted, the fun ? Should we give all that up because it isn’t deep or worthy of us ? That would be silly – if it pleases the eye and warms the soul, why not ?