Musings on Kitsch

In class this week, we spent a great deal of time discussing the works of Cindy Sherman and Jeff Koons as exemplars (within their respective mediums) of 1980’s postmodern art. As per other AHVA classes I’ve taken at Oxy, our discussion of Sherman centered on the ways in which her photographs explore and critique of gender roles, female performativity, and the male gaze. Much like the critics of October, we came to a general consensus of Sherman as a “good” postmodernist. In contrast, our discussion of Koons generated more debate. Some viewed his works as commodified, pure kitsch, lacking any critical intervention into the medium of “kitsch”; others viewed placed his work within the celebrated Duchampian “readymade” tradition, arguing that he is unfairly disregarded by critics simply because his work is so unpretentious and readily accessible.

I bring this up not simply to summarize our class discussion, but to demonstrate the frame of reference by which I had come to view the work of Sherman and Koons. That frame of reference was challenged, however, when I discovered the following review online. The article, entitled “Kitsch in Sync,” was published in the New York Times Magazine in May 2005. A review of retrospectives of Koons and Sherman’s work (occurring in separate galleries), the writer links the two artists together due to 1) their prominent position in the art world of the 1980’s, and 2) their focus on kitsch. As writer Mark Stevens notes, “Jeff Koons is a razzle-dazzle impresario of the kitsch object, Cindy Sherman an explorer of clichéd roles and social disguises. They are very different artists, but their approach to the kitschy illustrates the characteristic strengths—and, at times, the principal weakness—of this tradition.”

At first, I was taken back by Steven’s designation of Sherman’s work as “kitsch.” I should note here that I am a sociology major (with a focus on gender studies), a unabashed feminist, and a huge fan of Sherman’s work. To deem Sherman’s work as “kitsch,” it seemed to me, was to make a gross oversimplification. But as I thought more about Stevens’ designation, I began view Cindy Sherman in a different light. It’s commonly argued that Sherman’s work during the 1980’s (such as her famous “film stills”) subtly but powerfully critique gender performativity and the social construction of femininity. But what makes theses works so powerful? This is where I have come to realize that Stevens is actually correct with his “kitsch” designation. Sherman’s photos, I would argue, are so powerful precisely because they draw upon kitsch. Each of her “film stills” draws upon a clichéd, kitschy film scenarios and/or characters (the damsel in distress, the moment before the attack, etc). As kitsch icons, the viewer already has a cultural script of what should be happening in the scene. But Sherman’s characters do not subscribe to these cultural scripts; Instead, they question them. The power of Sherman’s photos come from seeing a familiar, kitsch scene, but realizing that something about it is not quite right.

In conclusion: sorry, Mark Stevens. I judged you much too quickly.