So there I was, reading Kitsch In Sync: A Consumer's Guide to Bad Taste, when I ran across this passage:
As soon as there was a demand for objects which signified 'I have good taste' and these objects were mass-produced, then many people could possess them and claim the good-taste status these objects were supposed to being. But this process of instant mass acquisition and ownership of good taste meanst the objects in question lost the element of exclusivity that formed a fundamental part of their appeal as symbols of good taste. [...] It also broke another rule of taste: having taste meant you exercised personal judgment in an enlightened way, but copying what other people approved removed this faculty of judgment almost entirely.
The above passage is used to explain how the era of mass production ushered in the phenomenon of kitsch, but I also think it does an excellent job of laying bare the exclusivity component of taste -- you know, that thing the author explicitly fails to mention in the article we all marveled over here.
The exclusivity factor and how people react to it is lightly woven through each of the topical chapters in this breezy little read. Author Peter Ward has a droll, dry humor that I find tremendously appealing. Moreover, he's mastered the art of tempering a fond gaze with a gimlet eye: this seems appropriate when arguing for kitsch without making it look like you have no taste -- whatever that may be -- at all.
Taste is a tricky thing, I think. It's not just about aesthetic preferences, but the cultural baggage they carry.
I was watching HGTV this weekend and sat, riveted, through the "Glamorous and Sophisticated Living Room" episode of Get Color! because I loved the "before" living room and hated the "after." To me, the "before" room carried connotations of someone who was sophisticated and confident enough to create a room that relied on subtle variations in tone and texture. They knew how to highlight the lovely period details in the room in a way that was historically respectful without being overly stodgy.
To me, the "after" room, seemed to run roughshod over the room's finer workmanship (they added molding and painted over that beautifully restored wooden mantel and fireplace surround), and felt very hodge-podge and trendy -- which means that in a few years, it'll feel dated. I'm sure to someone else, this room carries a different set of connotations: the designer's not cowed by traditional items and she's confident enough to use color in unexpected ways.
My reaction was a lot different from the homeowners'. They love their living room, and really, they're the ones who should. But the difference in perspective illustrates why things like taste and kitsch -- although we can talk about them until we're periwinkle in the face -- are both fascinating and divisive.
As Ward writes:
Taste is exercised on an exclusion and acceptance basis -- by expressing your taste, you are at once stating an allegiance to one aesthetic principle or other and a group of people who also share in your taste expression (e.g. pink champagne) whilst at the same time excluding yourself from competing taste preferences (e.g. canned lager).
This probably goes a long way toward explaining why we attach so much significance to the material possessions we have and the process by which we procured them. Anyone who's at all fascinated with American consumerism now would do well to read this British book written 16 years ago.
That second room looks kind of like...a room in The Sims. As in flat, with a bunch of hodgepodge pieces put together in a way that is "nice" but doesn't really grab or invite you. Which is too bad, because it's not in a video game.
Posted by: drunken monkey | 2006.02.28 at 16:49
Another thing that irks me about the "after" room -- and I cannot believe I am still interested in this, but I suppose this is what remodeling is doing to my brain -- is how sharply the decor disconnects the room from the outdoors.
One of the things I like and admire about the Arts & Crafts movement is the emphasis on the idea that your interior surroundings ought to smoothly and gracefully integrate with your exterior ones. This is why you see a lot of earth tones, big windows, structures meant to blur the boundaries between indoors and outdoors (porches, porticos, etc.), natural materials in the house, etc.
Obviously, in some places this isn't possible and the most effective decorating is that which ignores the grim neighborhood or treeless exurb or what-have-you. But look out the window in that first shot: they have what appears to be a beautiful view. That view is like dynamic art for the room. And the room frames is beautifully.
By contrast, the second room seems to cut any link between interior and exterior. It deliberately removes the vibrant outdoors element, and creates a little cartouche world that feels airless and jangled.
To me, anyway. As should be evident from this comment, I place a high value on being able to flow smoothly between interior and exterior spaces, and that influences my taste. Other people's values in re: what their house should do and how it should relate to the wider world will obviously influence their tastes too.
Posted by: Lisa | 2006.03.01 at 10:47
See, I look at both rooms and think, boring Pottery Barn facsimiles. (The first from a fall/winter catalog, and the second from one of the "decorate your beach house!" ones.) I like kitsch because it's not trying to be anything it's not. I look at a lot of design shows and catalogs and think, this is all way too organized and boring and grown-up.
But I happen to own (through various methods, mainly inheriting and thrift-store finds) a real hodge podge of furniture and decor. I don't like things that are attempting that bourgeois sheen. I prefer funky, international and downright strange when it comes to decorating.
Posted by: Maggie | 2006.03.01 at 12:15
I wish I could articulate my reactions better- my main thought on the second room was that the curtains were grody.
Posted by: hannah | 2006.03.01 at 14:28
Maggie, it's funny that you write "I like kitsch, because it's not trying to be something that it's not" because one of the arguments Ward makes in his book is that one of the separating factors in kitsch is that it's promising something it fails to deliver. The disconnect or lack of genuine-ness is what vaults it into kitsch. I am not sure I buy the argument, but it's a starting point for articulating the quality that separates kitsch from the non-kitsch.
That said, I always admire people who can master that funky, eclectic, multiethnic thing. It takes a real gift to pull it together.
Posted by: Lisa | 2006.03.01 at 14:59
I think kitsch really depends on the individual reading of the object(s), and how they're presented. For instance, Precious Moments figurines are an example of high kitsch, but largely displayed unironically. (Plus they're sickening pastel monstrosities.) My random collection of bamboo furniture, painter's pallette coffee table, and photo of the Creature from the Black Lagoon actor holding his "head"? I like to think they incorporate more of a postmodern reading of '50s decor.
I'm far from a master though. I just like oddball things colliding together.
Posted by: Maggie | 2006.03.02 at 07:02
Maggie, I totally agree that kitsch always lacks irony. When irony comes into play in the kitsch arena, it is camp. (You might remember one of the best Simpson's episodes ever.)
I think anything that tries too hard to communicate "exclusive" or "upscale" becomes kitschy. There is a little "bistro" in McLean, Virginia (Kitsch City! Vegas is camp.) that tried so hard to look like a little Parisian bistro. I could not stop laughing (well it was really sneering) at the fact they had bought brand new mirrors but took steel wool to them. They were aiming at an old mirror look, but it really looked like new mirrors scratched up with steel wool to look old. This bistro was the kitschiest place I have seen. Sadly, the food was terrible so there was no ironic joy to be found.
Posted by: molly | 2006.03.02 at 19:35
Oh, forgot to add my opinion of the rooms above. Do people live in them? They give a very studied air. I sense no personality in either of them. It is almost like a sitting room in a low-end boutique hotel. Yawn! The owner(s) must be purchasing managers or something.
Posted by: molly | 2006.03.02 at 19:45