It's not rare for a comment on an artist's work to begin with these words: "if that's not a joke, it's goddamned serious." It seems like there's nothing, at least as far as art is concerned, that lies beyond the burlesque or an imposing seriousness, precisely as if it were not possible to be an artist without putting on one or the other of these two masks. Wether eternal butterflies or dour sourpusses, artists cannot manage or do not want to free themselves from the stereotypes that they themselves help create and spread. Why is it the case? Because art is first and foremost a society game that each individual must adapt to in order avoid being pushed into a corner and forgotten. Artists who believe in the transcendental value of an artwork, in its vocation for veracity, know it all too well. They are figures who in their own pathetic way believe they do not make compromises, based only on their stubborn refusal to accept any form of entertainment, as well as those (most artists, in fact) who in any era aim with their own artwork once again and always at the épater le bourgeois, to make the killing of the father of a better show insofar as they aspire in no uncertain terms to take his place. And in fact they are accomplished at doing so, wether the success they achieve is large or small thanks to this timeless strategy. All other artists are left with no choice but to persevere and aim straight along their own path, without complaining, and without regrets.
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