Aesthetics, Vernacular, and the Dead: Oh my!

I used to hang out with a bunch of poets. They were always talking about aesthetic in a sort of yours versus mine way. I didn’t get it, really.

If we’re using Elizabeth’s definition of everydayness and unschooled-ness, the vernacular becomes harder to locate, I think, from inside the academy. I sometimes feel out of touch with my vernacular. Recently, my dad said to me “someone should tell Lady Gaga what it means to be a lady,” and I told him to stop being so heteronormative. The vernacular is a slippery thing. In this week’s readings, the aesthetic and the vernacular seem to coexist, but perhaps exist in dissonance.

This is the real Ruby and President Obama viewing Rockwell's "The Problem" at The White House. I thought it was really cool and share worthy. 

Goggin’s exploration of samples and embroidery presents an excellent example of a vernacular rhetoric and its transformation overtime. It also shows how aesthetic and vernacular inform one another. Early in the sampler’s history, we see an artifact that teaches women, without letters or words, different patterns for stitching so that they might create their own works. Goggin’s calls this an inventional tool. From the images presented in the chapter, I get a sense of aesthetic cohesion and choice in the samplers – although there are many patterns and stitch options, they share similar shapes and sizes, softened edges, and braid-like styles. Too, the original sampler was intended more as an assistant in creating more aesthetically pleasing artworks to be sold or displayed. As time progessed, the samplers became more utility-centered and shifted to use for young girls learning basic stitches alongside bible verses and other moral platitudes. The sampler here becomes a pedagogical tool for instilling practical tools for use in the home or workplace as well as social tool for instilling community values and belief systems. The original aesthetic quality of the sampler takes a backseat to the vernacular as function becomes more important than visual pleasure.

Gallagher & Zagacki present a similar progression in Rockwell’s paintings. When Rockwell became more interested in political messages, his paintings became more uncomfortable. Although he maintained much of his signature art style, the overall feel of the paintings is quite different from his popular Saturday Evening Post cover images. These are not a simple expression of Americana and living the American dream. They are troubling and dark, and full of danger. As Rockwell becomes more invested in function, a vernacular rhetoric seeps into the paintings. His use of black and white symbols, shadows, and lurking danger are commonplaces in western societies.

This is one of the posters I saw at the exhibit.

 Much to my chagrin, I missed tie-dye 

Tuesday at the museum.

Helmers shows how the vernacular and the aesthetic might coexist in the creation of a space. This was a very interesting piece. She seems to locate the museum curator as a rhetor with the power to determine first the aesthetic to display, then the vernacular that will surround it. In adding music, activities for children, props, and other exhibit details, everyday items are presented as equal to and contributing to the art. The use of vernacular here assists in broadening the art’s audience and establishing a context for the exhibit. This reminded me of a time I visited the Denver Art Museum while they were housing a traveling exhibit of original 1960s psychedelic rock posters. In a room, lit by black lights, adjacent to the exhibit, visitors could find others 1960s memorabilia (bean bags, rotary phones, lava lamps,) and activities. There was a rolodex full of cards where visitors were encouraged to leave their favorite memory of the 1960s.  Although I’m not sure I would classify the posters as “art” in the same sense Helmers uses in her chapter, the memorabilia room added to the exhibit a sense of vernacular where each person became a living part of the exhibit and added moments from his or her mundane existence to its collective history.