"The art essay is at once not about the art and all about the art - the glance at the piece of art evolves into a meditation on something else entirely" writes editor Alexandra Kingston-Reese in her introduction to the collection Art Essays. This makes this volume a collection of essays very loosely themed around art. The essay may be written because of a specific piece, but the author's meditation may then have absolutely nothing to do with art.

Zadie Smith's essay, "Lynette Yiadom-Boakye's Imaginary Portraits," is mostly what I was expecting to find in these essays when I opened the book. Smith explores Yiadom-Boakye's art - the essay is specific to the artist and some of the art. Smith writes:

"Under-Song For a Cipher" is substantial. There is an owl-like virtuosity to it, silent, unassuming - but deadly. Not yet forty, Yiadom-Boakye is a long way down the path to "mastry," and you do not doubt she will reach her destination.
This essay makes me want to explore the artist's work.

And this thought may be my biggest disconnect with the book (which, over-all, I enjoyed once I accepted the basic premise that we might not be really reading essays about art) -- I was hoping to find essays which would lead me to discover new art or artists, but in general, none of these essays (with the exception of the above mentioned piece), despite being written well, had me itching to look up the artists or art works because of the writings.

The essay that struck me the most, likely because I saw so much of myself in it, was “Should Artists Shop or Stop Shopping?” by Sheila Heti. "When I am writing well," Heti writes, "I feel no need for shopping. The times in my life I have shopped a lot, it is because I have not been writing." I know many writers (and artists of all sorts) who face these thoughts.

Shopping sucks the creative energy out of my body-energy which could be put into writing-which I have instead put into shopping. Shopping makes me lose money. Writing earns me money. Writing gives me a feeling of satisfaction after having done it. Shopping gives me a feeling of nervous tension, anxiety, excitement and dread. When I have written on my computer, I have my riches there in front of me. When I have shopped online, the riches take days of weeks to come, and when they arrive they no longer feel like riches. They are never all I hoped they would be. They are objects. They are not hopes. They are not wishes. They are not dreams. Writing-have been written- remains a hope, a dream, a wish. Why don’t I write when I feel like shopping?
Does compulsive behavior, such as shopping, often go hand-in-hand with an artist temperament?

I don't read essays often, and generally I've mostly read essays in the nature and science fields despite having an art background, so I was quite keen to explore this book. I didn't dislike anything, but very few of the pieces really appealed to me. Is this because of my expectations, or because of the essays themselves? That's a difficult call to make. A bit of both, I suspect.

This book contains the following:

Introduction: The Art Essay - Alexandra Kingston-Reese
Thematic Guide to Approaching the Essays
"A Leonora Carrington A to Z" - Chloe Aridjis
"You Need to Look Away: Visions of Contemporary Malaysia" - Tash Ah
"How Paint and Perception Collide in the Work of Late Surrealist Dorothea Tanning" - Claire Louise Bennett
"There's Less to Portraits Than Meets the Eye, and More" - Teju Cole
"Now We Can See" - Geoff Dyer
"Should Artists Shop or Stop Shopping?" - Sheila Heti
"The Hunger" - Katie Kitamura
"A Walk Around the Neighborhood" - Chris Kraus
"The Space Between the Pictures" - Jhumpa Lahiri
"Damage Control" - Ben Lerner
"When Orhan Pamuk Met Aselm Kiefer" - Orhan Pamuk
"We Must Not Be Isolated" - Ali Smith
"Lynette Yiadom-Boakye's Imaginary Portraits" - Zadie Smith
"Hey, Necromancer!" - Heidi Sopinka
"The Burning House" - Hanya Yanagihara

Looking for a good book? Art Essays, edited by Alexandra Kingston-Reese, contains a wide variety of essays loosely themed around art, often art-inspired. Fans of the essay form, looking for new themes to read, should definitely check this out. Those looking for essays about art, might be disappointed.

I received a digital copy of this book from the publisher, through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

I’d like to liken the experience of reading this collection to entering an art gallery where many paintings and other art exhibits are on display. Upon entering, I’ll encounter several paintings that resonate with me instantly, and some others that I appreciate distantly as works of art. The same could be said about the art essays written by literary writers in this volume, they also vary in their ability to resonate with me. But one thing in common is that they are essays about art written by literary writers whom Susan Sontag previously says in her essay as those who embodies the role as "the exemplary sufferer" in modern art, ”For the modern consciousness, the artist (replacing the saint) is the exemplary sufferer. And among artists, the writer, the man of words, is the person to whom we look to be able best to express his suffering."

As the editor, Alexandra Kingston-Reese, mentions in the introduction, art essays could be seen as an approximation to the works of art themselves. A sublimation between the works of art and writings as an art form. Etymologically, the term essay is a derivative from the French infinitive essayer, which means to try or to attempt. French Renaissance-era philosopher Michel de Montaigne was widely known as the first author who described his works as essays, an attempt to put his thoughts into writings. And art itself is often abstract, there is no single definition or single explanation about art. Reviewing arts could be an action subjective to the interpretation of the person reviewing. But the experience of art essays in this collection is probably an interesting experience, much more like reading How to Be Both by Ali Smith (who is among the authors featured in this collection), the sublimity of experience, how everything is one thing and another, how the work of art influences the writers feature here while at the same time also exposes the influences of literature on art.

The art essays featured in this collection are collected from various publications, therefore their themes and audiences might have varied. But one thing in common, each of them focuses on one artist whose works of art influence the particular writers. One particular artist, Leonora Carrington, is mentioned in two essays: A Leonora Carrington A to Z by Chloe Aridjis and Hey, Necromancer! by Heidi Sopinka. Both are derived from personal experience interacting with Leonora Carrington but presented differently. Chloe Aridjis tells the story of Carrington by experimenting with form, making a list of fun facts about her from A to Z, whereas Heidi Sopinka focuses on her semi-travelogue meeting with Carrington which happened at Carrington’s house in Mexico City when she asked her about death guides. They show how interactions with the same person could result in different ways of seeing, but at the same time, they could also be said as embodying the same nucleus. There’s no one correct way to see the works of art.

Another essay of interest to me is by British-Malaysian author Tash Aw, You Need to Look Away, which expresses his interaction with Malaysian photographer Ian Teh, about becoming the double “Other” with their Chinese heritage in Malaysia, and then Chinese-Malaysian in England. The object of interest to Tash Aw is Ian Teh’s photographs of Port Klang, a way of entry for many migrant workers from Indonesia and the place where prostitution occurred (as in many other places of transit around the globe). Port Klang is not that far from Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia, but for some reason, people prefer to choose the five-hour drive to Penang when they want to see the sea. Tash Aw’s interpretation of the photographs brings to attention the notion of occupying two worlds at the same time, of two conflicting realities, of belonging and not belonging, a celebration of differences.

But my favourite is definitely Sheila Heti’s Should Artists Shop or Stop Shopping? which questions the way laypersons approach online shopping, in comparison to how the artist Sara Cwynar buys her stuff. Sheila Heti quotes that Cwynar “tends to buy her source material from dollar stores, drug stores, eBay, and, recently, candlestock.com, a candle company based in Woodstock, New York.” Following this example, Sheila also attempted to buy candles from candlestock.com to get the gist of Cwynar’s shopping experience. Yet this very action had made her realise that she only did that to mimic Cwynar’s actions, just like what many people do when they check out stuff from their online carts in order to buy stuff that everyone else also buys (sometimes, unnecessarily). It’s the most relatable essay among others in this collection since it questions the power of online shopping to fulfil (and ultimately destroy) our desire for material fulfilment.

This collection would be enjoyable to readers of any of the writers included here. And most likely, if you like Sontag’s essays, you would also be tempted to read art essays as written by contemporary writers here. They are both supporting while also countering Sontag’s essays and her views of art (why can’t they be both?). And it could be said that the writers featured in this collection have fulfilled their role as “the exemplary sufferer”.

This was an interesting collection of essays that were all written by writers about art. This is not a critique of art. Rather, it is pieces of literature that were inspired by art in some fashion. The reader is advised to read only a selection of essays that focus on a specific theme, but I don't care for this type of structure. I read them all. Some I thought were beautiful and others, boring. I do, however, like the idea behind this collection. *Advance copy provided by the publisher in exchange for my honest review.

Art Essays, edited by Alexandra Kingston-Reese, is a wonderful collection of essays at the intersection of art and literature, meaning writers (not necessarily art critics) writing about art.

Like any collection, there will be essays that speak to any given reader more and some that don't connect. This is no different. If you see someone laying claim to the ability to judge any of these as bad or "overwritten," ignore them, that is how people pretend to be intellectual. They think it sounds better to say some were bad than to say some didn't speak to them. Oh well, it makes them feel good, so let them do it, just ignore such vacuous commentary.

These essays will, on the whole, offer the reader some interesting insights into artists they are likely familiar with and, I think more importantly, give us new ways of approaching art in general. Whether through biography, place and time contextualization, or the place we are in our own lives when we encounter an artwork or an artist, we can find new avenues into the works, which opens up a lot more work for our enjoyment.

I consider a collection like this a success when I only found two of fifteen essays not to my liking. I even found four of them to be ones I will probably revisit numerous times.

I didn't use it for this trip through the book, but I found the thematic guide to the essays a good idea. Since there is more than one way to approach an essay (or an artwork) I think placing some of these together in a sort of conversation makes a rereading of the book almost like reading a brand-new book. Maybe I will even find more to connect with in the two that missed the mark for me.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.

It was my pleasure to feature this title in my annual holiday gift books guide for The Globe & Mail national newspaper (Saturday Nov 20, 2021 print edition; also on AppleNews), organized thematically by giftee archetype. Feature online at related link.

The essays collected in this book are beautifully written and intellectually valuable, providing the reader with both pleasure and challenge. Despite the thematic guide that suggests the reader consume only a selection of the essays that center around a particular theme (a useful tool for those who know exactly what they want out of this book, and probably something that should be included in more essay collections) I decided to read the essays sequentially and not miss out on any of them. I’m glad I did–I was introduced to so many artists in such great depth, and so many ways of approaching writing about art.
My favorites in this collection are Sheila Heti’s essay on Sara Cwynar and the way artists shop, Chris Kraus on the art scene in LA in the 90s and early 2000s, Ben Lerner on art vandalism, and Hanya Yanigahara, whose essay on David Wojnarowicz concludes the book purely by alphabetical accident but is somehow the perfect final act.
The emphasis of this collection is on the art essay as a literary form, so I understand the decision (and the practicalities) behind not including more images in this book, but I can’t help wishing there were more, as long stretches of description or ekphrasis are often easier to comprehend with a visual aid.
Art Essays is a fantastic bridging of the literary and art-historical worlds, and I think it would be an amazing addition to an art or book lover’s library, as well as a useful resource as part of a syllabus for a writing or art history course.

The first introduction was fantastic. Many great authors contributed, the best part is if readers don’t know an author they each have an introduction or if readers can learn something new. Great authors and a great read!

Interesting premise but, not what I was expecting. I am a rabid fan of most of those Authors but, art is not their forte. It was clear to me, they were out of their element.
Or maybe it was the compilation-or the brief excerpts that lacked a sense of cohesiveness. knowledge, a background in art.
I found Sheila Heti's chapter very difficult to follow. Candlestock.com?
I did enjoy Hanya Yanagihara's chapter. She provided an interesting, intelligent perspective on the painting she chose. It was well written and easy to follow.
I minored in Art History and I do not consider myself to be an art snob. I am always open to others opinions. I enjoy reading essays on Art.
I thought some of the Authors made interesting, conceptual points so, maybe it was the editing?

Thank you NetGalley and U. Of Iowa Press.

jb
https://seniorbooklounge.blogspot.com/

Really showed the best and worst of essay collections. Some were overwritten, others close to perfection. I was reintroduced to Leonora Carrington, for which I am eternally grateful.