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I haven't been sure for a while if and how I should chronicle these
thoughts. If I proclaim that vanity is a wonderful quality, you may be able
to appreciate why by the same token I simply have to poke fun at this very
proposition. My own behaviour provides me with all the examples I need. And
in case you're wondering whether my self-mockery does anything for me, let
me ask you whether anyone who has a particular conviction can at all be open
to deviating views. It was precisely this thought which slowly but surely
surfaced in response to the only comment I received in connection with
"Iconoclasm" (Weekly 20) - a comment which in all curtness read: "What utter
tosh". I heaved an imaginary sigh. After all, it's hardly proof of one's perceptiveness to lose sight of the fact that the Chosen Ones of Art Amsterdam are driven by first-class intentions. It's a bit like transvestites on stage: it doesn't matter whether or not they actually look like women as long as it is perfectly clear that it was never their intention that you should mistake them for women. Of course it's different for the art galleries, but that doesn't make my omission to pay due attention to their good intentions any less unforgivable. There is a snag here, which is that they have never communicated to me what their intentions are in so far as these exceed the image they present as per their press releases. But that does not make me any less to blame. It's like buying a house: it remains up to you to check on potential defects. And that's where I have definitely let the side down. Where all this is coming from? From that one comment, which suddenly caused me to appreciate that I too cherish the big-headed illusion that the whole world thinks I'm always right. How could I have lost track of that fundamental insight? How could I have forgotten that the boys and girls of Art Amsterdam too are fully convinced that they are right, that they too surrender wholeheartedly to the elitist events they stage (far be it from me to criticise: I have exactly the same hopes and expectations from the events in which I participate) - how could I not have done this justice in my bold comment? I guess my vanity must have been to blame. At some point in your life you need to have been right - not because you yourself think so (not a day goes by without my thinking I am) but because others agree that you are. And if this is the illusion that bestows its unsurpassed status upon fiction in the arts, there's hope for only a few of us no matter who they are. |