THEN AND NOW
551
the nucleus of what came to be known as the New York School could not live
by their work . Their friendship for each other, the endless eager talk, their
sense of being on the margins ofsociety, and their mutual suppon were crucial
as they strove to create works which eventually made such an impact on the
world. At the time it appeared to be a disastrous collision . There was talk of a
schism between artist and public. Hindsight , however, tells us that their
genius was consonant with other nonconformist trends favorable
to
their
development. The resolution and healing of that schism over the last twenty
years has made it possible for artists to expect a reasonable chance of living by
their talents and of becoming respectable members of society. University
qualification for teaching is almost
de ngueur,
and the result is academicism.
The move from bohemianism was less an escape from alienation than a slow
assimilation into society-no longer the ' 'starving artist" who may just expire,
unknown and unseen.
Those who were first recognized were, almost without exception, in their
middle years when they were surprised by the turn of affairs. Their artistic
characters were fully formed and they were committed to a style and develop–
ment which was impervious to success, no matter how it affected their per–
sonal lives. Today, however, young artists
expect
recognition and support.
There is little of the niggardliness from public and critics which demands
privation as a prelude to success . On the contrary, youth , as in other sectors of
our society , has, in itself, become a "value ." Certainly the history of art is
seeded with startling examples of early genius as well as of genius gathering
strength in later years. Yet , in an endeavor to be sure not to miss the boat
again , as they did in the forties and fifties , curators, critics, and collectors are
attempting to form or foresee history . They are investing heavily in the young,
the new , and the newly rejuvenated old styles . Total exposure is believed
to
insure , by some democratic magic , total understanding. What amounts to a
continuous exhibition is bolstered with various kinds of "show biz" to
promote attendance .
To be sure, there is no end of Madison Avenue technique to reinforce
shaky convictions . As William Phillips has pointed out in his recent criticism
of Tom Wolfe's popular journalism, there are many whose ignorance mas–
querades as support for the "old time" values, as well as eagerness to accept
the new as if " new" were in itself a value . At the same time, ironically
enough , there is an uneasy acceptance of the witless and flattering charge that
the art which came to fruition in the forties and fifties was a "sell."
Each of these attitudes creates doubt about the qualifications for passing
judgment by the vast new audience. The easy familiarity, the difficulty of
dealing with the sheer weight of numbers, and the multiplicity of styles has
