Theodore E. Stebbins Jr. Rethinking American Art: Collectors, Critics, and the Changing Canon Godine 432 pages, 6 x 9 inches, ISBN 978-1567928341
In a nutshell
Rethinking American Art: Collectors, Critics, and the Changing Canon is about the real history of art. Most books on art history are written from the point of view of the author. The author looks back at the past and looks at the art that he or she likes best, and writes that, as the history of art. But it’s not. My point of view is that we have to look into each period and see what art was appreciated at that time. What was the taste of that culture? That's the real art history.
Whether I will succeed in changing anyone’s minds, I don’t know. But my very ambitious aim is to change the way people actually think about art history. Most people write art history by reading what’s been written already and then putting it in their own words. So there’s very little originality. I approached the whole history of American art by examining each period—what the collectors, museums, and leading critics of that day were doing, what they were saying, what artists they most admired. It’s a different way of approaching its real history as opposed to a kind of art criticism.
The second part of the book is about a group of art collectors and how they approach art. They’re not the most famous or best-known collectors, although I include the Clark brothers. One of the Clarks founded the Clark Art Institute at Williamstown. One of them is Maxim Karolek, who was Boston’s most famous collector. But many others are little known. Yet they’re incredibly interesting and varied people. I tried to explore who the collector really was, because in our field, the curator or museum director spends their life flattering the collector. No one ever wants to hurt the collector’s feelings—even if they’re criminals. Our job is to glorify them, to put their name on the wall.
Whereas I tried to really look into who these people were, what they did well, what they did badly, and how each one reacted to the canon of the day—the popular art of the day. Did they think originally? Did they see art originally? Or did they just follow the course of what was popular? Very few people—art historians, collectors, or dealers—really look at art. They mostly look at what’s popular, what other people are liking, and they try to go along with that.
None really understands art. All these books that we write are only going around the edge. There are people in our society who have the gift of having things come in through their head or their heart, and out through their hands—they make something that moves you. We don’t understand that process, or who appreciates it, or who can see it. It’s written about constantly—thousands of posters, books, exhibitions—but no one really understands it.
And it has almost nothing to do with money. What you mainly hear about are the big sales—the auction houses, the dealers—but the quality of the art and the amount of money are generally not related. What we’re talking about is very mysterious and not understood.
Also, curators, museum directors, and art historians all have a basic conflict of interest because you don’t want to criticize dealers, collectors, or academics—you might need something from them later: a favor, a painting, a loan, or something else. So everyone is very cautious in print. I’m 87 years old—if I’m not going to be honest now, when? So I was honest. I tried to be kind but honest about whether people have done good or bad work.
The wide angle
I don’t have the faintest idea who the audience is for this book. I just thought it would be good to write a book, so my wife and I spent the last six or seven years doing it. It was very good during COVID—everyone else was wondering how to keep busy and we were very busy and happy. I have no idea who’s going to understand it, read it, or buy it. The publisher, Godine, did such a great job. It is such a beautifully printed book.
The book speaks to the canon of art. We did a survey among family and friends—college-educated people—and at least half didn’t know what “canon” meant. We considered changing the title, but I hoped they’d learn it. In most fields—literature, religion, every field—the word “canon” means the ranking figures, the standard. But in art, the canon constantly changes. Everything constantly changes—politics, nations, technology, medicine. In art, people think the great artists will always be great. It’s almost like religion. Will we ever have a period when Rembrandt isn’t admired? I love Rembrandt, but the answer is yes. Every generation sees for itself. Fashion, furniture design—everything changes. The taste in art changes with each generation.
In the 1930s and ’40s, the most admired art was the School of Paris—Matisse, Picasso, Dufy. Then came America and Abstract Expressionism—Pollock, Kline, de Kooning. The U.S. became the most powerful nation, and its art became dominant. Then people wondered, what’s next? They expected figurative realism—but instead came Pop Art: Warhol, Lichtenstein painting cartoons. That outraged the previous avant-garde. They thought, “That can’t be art!”—but it was accepted. Warhol’s soup cans were laughed at—and then they were the hottest thing in the art market. Some movements are rejected and never become the canon. Pop Art became the canon.
There are movements that never become canon. There’s tremendous jockeying among dealers, collectors, and artists to get their movement into the canon. People’s lives, fortunes, and fame rest on it. In the 1970s came photorealism—Richard Estes and others—it seemed dominant, but didn’t last. That happens throughout history.
A close-up
Everyone likes the cover—we had nothing to do with it. I always thought it should be some kind of American flag. I proposed artists, but the publisher found a designer who produced this cover. So, your first hope is that people give the cover a second look.
The title Rethinking American Art applies both to me and to the field—it’s constantly being rethought. My hope is that anyone interested in history, collecting, or American culture will take a look. American history itself is constantly reinterpreted—the facts are the same, but interpretations change.
For years, people thought the Civil War was caused by economic factors; recently, it’s been understood as being about slavery. So, everything changes, and we live in a very fluid world. But people look to art for stability—a sense of beauty and meaning outside their regular cares.
Right now, it is hard to say, but dramatic things are happening. In the last few years, the art world turned to DEI—diversity. Every museum wanted to hang Black, women, Native American, Hispanic artists. That was gaining steam. Then Trump got elected, and now diversity programs are being declared illegal or immoral. Whether that’s temporary or a real change, I don’t know. My book ends at the end of 2024, just before that. What will happen in the future? We have no idea. The world is uncertain, and I wonder about quality in art.
Lastly
As the canon of art keeps changing, we’re still left with the question: is there such a thing as quality in art? Does it matter? Some think there’s no such thing as quality. But if there isn’t, then there’s no quality in human life, literature, a beautiful plant, a handsome house. Quality is what we seek in our lives. So my feeling is that museums and collectors can look for diverse artists, but must maintain a sense of quality. You don’t pick people because they’re Black or Asian—you look for the best of their work. And the best of their work is worth hanging. Some people are adventurous in collecting; others only collect the established canon. Often, it’s people from minorities or outside the establishment who see things most freshly and best, because they haven’t been taught the conventional ways.

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