Reviews

How to See: Looking, Talking, and Thinking about Art by David Salle

hades9stages's review against another edition

Go to review page

2.0

you know those pieces of art that almost definitely cost a lot of money because rich people use them as a method to money launder and as a way to seem intellectually superior to the working peasants? this book could’ve been about how to see art and discussed amazing works by underrepresented groups of people (in the art word, that’s basically anyone except white european men) and how art is so diverse etc etc etc.

this book is not that.

jpperelman's review

Go to review page

3.0

There's some good stuff in here.
There's some that is skippable, like he won't change yr mind about any of these artists but he does have a nice clear way of writing about them. Which is worth soaking up and taking into yr own studio.

cheerssteph's review

Go to review page

3.0

Title is misleading, wouldnt recommended this.

scf2ke's review

Go to review page

2.0

There were about 3-4 essays I truly enjoyed and found helpful to read as an artist. Otherwise I’d skip this book or make sure to skim for best content. It’s not a cover to cover book. Blah

backstreets81's review against another edition

Go to review page

Terrible writing style

gaybf's review against another edition

Go to review page

2.0

went cycling between liking a little and absolutely hating what Mr. Salle had to say, and even the artwork he discussed. Here’s a quotation that I think explains why:
> This is art that says, “Forget all that stuff you thought you knew, that stuff about the phenomenology of perception, about institutional critique, and feminism, and post colonialism, and queer theory, and the theory of desire—forget about all of that; *this* is what you really want. Cartoons.”

Okay and here’s just a little of several portions I did like:
> entire essay, John Baldessari’s “Movie Script Series”
> “how appropriate to John’s sensibility is the screenplay form: flickers of images, words with pictures, bits of narrative spliced end to end; fragments imprinting on each other, forming memory—now we *know*. It’s how we feel our lives.

More...