Having viewed, and considered for "my collection" some 50,000 images (conservative estimate) during the past 3 years or so, with systematic attention to making a thorough survey of what "has been considered art," I believe I've reached the point of being able to have my own opinions about what I consider worth my attention. They are my opinions, and I frankly don't care who does or doesn't agree with them. I currently have about 4,000 images in my "personal collection," on disk and in a card file, with reasonably good documentation. Obviously, it's hard to pick any one – or even a few – favorites, but I do have many that I like. I also have many that I think are "important" to my own interests that I don't particularly care for and wouldn't display.

As Bobert commented, I had the impression that the "old masters" were all sort of "dark and dreary." Quit a lot of that stuff is, and it seems to be what's "pushed" by the museums; but there are bright spots, and I'm happy that I've found some. As only one example, I'm looking for a spot to hang a print of Wtewael's Mars and Venus Discovered by the Gods (1603-04) because I think it's hilarious, if you recognize the participants. Rubens had a fine sense of humor too, if you can dig out some of his "less popular" stuff, although some of his best "digs" were about politics that no longer is too applicable.

I do believe that Fred Miller misses the point of the "ARC politics." It is true that Fred Ross, the site sponsor, owns several (5 I think) Bouguereau paintings. Not too long ago, you could buy one for under $10,000, and often for a lot less, so I suspect his "investment" is not all that great. I doubt that 28,000+ images are all there only because he wants to push his own collection. He, and others, have noted that some very good artists from about 1840 through the early 1900s were not just ignored, but were "deliberately expunged" from art history. Additionally, despite nearly every college and university having an "art department," there were practically no places one could go to actually learn the methods, especially for painting, used historically and according to some reaching a "peak" in the late 1800s. You could learn "about art," but not how to use the traditional methods for "doing art." It is certainly not necessary that all artists, or even most artists, use traditional methods; but there should be some artists capable of continuing the old and worthwhile, traditions; and they should have places to learn that "craftsmanship," if they choose to do so. To have a "vision" and lack the skill to put it before others is not much removed from having no vision at all.

Fred Miller's slightly snide dismissal of Bouguereau (no offense Fred) is "the party line." When asked, together, at the 1900 Universal Exposition in Paris, by a newspaper reporter, "Who will be remembered as the greatest artist of the century a hundred years from now," Degas and Monet named William Bouguereau. Yet not even his name appears in any of two dozen "history of art" books I have consulted. ONE book contains the name in a footnote. This is simply wrong. Whether you think he's great or even just "pretty good," he still was historically significant, and deserves to be known. Even dismissing all his work as "trite," as some do (and I don't agree), his efforts as President of the Academy, Head of the Salon, President of the Legion of Honor, against substantial opposition, to have women artists admitted to the Salon and the Academy should at least be noted. He was only moderately successful, getting only 5 or so admitted, and they were "functionally expelled" when he left his positions; but at least he tried. He was, in fact, considered by his fellow artists, the greatest French artist of his time, in his own time – and that doesn't merit a couple of lines in art history?

Others of what ARC calls the "Academic Realists" of the same era have been treated similarly, although not with the same fervor. When I first encountered them, I could find nothing at Amazon, Barnes, or Borders; but more recently there are several very nice "coffee table books" on Waterhouse and Alma-Tadema, and at least one decent one on Leighton. Godward and Moore have made faint "commercial appearances." These are not necessarily favorites of mine, but I might hang almost any one of their pictures.

ARC has recently completed their third annual competition, with more than 1,000 entries, has awarded over $25,000 in prizes, has given about $30,000 in art scholarships, and has recognized nearly 50 "atelier studios" where people can learn to paint if they choose to do so. I don't think they can be dismissed as "just advertising for Fred's collection." They are currently running at the rate of 334,000,000 hits per year from over 5,200,000 visitors. (So I dump my cookies, and I'm 50 visitors, it's still pretty impressive.). This year they will likely have more "visitors" than the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art (including MMA website visits) and will quite likely double the traffic at the National Art Gallery. They must have something people like – and are not getting from the critics.

I do happen to have Bouguereau's Nymphes et Satyre, hanging in my home now, because I like it. It replaced Bouguereau's La naissance de Vénus when I felt I'd looked at that one long enough. My wife hung two small "anonymous" prints that she got from Pier I many years ago, that I was pleased to identify for her as by Godward. I might consider hanging Nelson Shanks' Portrait of Pavarati, (or even his Princess Diana), although I think perhaps one of Steve Hanks' watercolors may be about due and will probably be next. It's unlikely I'll ever put up Odd Nerdrum's Self Portrait with Nosebleed, or Jenny Saville's Strategy, because I don't think that UGLINESS, alone, is a worthy criterion for the "art" that I choose to display. I won't argue that they're not "art" – if you wish to define them that way. You can't argue that they're not ugly – since the critics claim "that's what makes them art."

"Museum Art," which is what's mostly thought of when high prices are quoted, is a field that has been run entirely by the critics, promoters, and dealers since the mid 1800s. The artist has been pretty much a non-participant. Miles Mathis (whose opinions I value because he mostly agrees with me) proposes that Whistler, ca. 1840, was the last artist to successfully argue with a critic. Whistler might sell better today if he'd kept his mouth shut, even though I don't particularly care for most of his stuff. (Although he's well known, more of his stuff might have gotten into circulation, and survived, if he hadn't p.o.'d the critics.)

Critics here includes that multitude of college professors, many, if not all of whom fall in the great category of "can't do so teach." If I had the money to "listen to the critics" I'd probably go buy an interest in a rap group, since the promotion, hype, and methods are about the same, and a "good" (well promoted) band should have a more immediate payback. Many people choose their "favorite rap artist" according to the same criteria (IMO) that they choose their favorite art.

I have no objection to the teaching of what the critic thinks is "good." I do object to the prevalent teaching that "everything else is BAD," and the denigration of anyone who doesn't go along with the latest "critique." There are lots of really fine artists out there, most of whom will never get your recognition if you don't go hunt them out, or if you think the critics are going to point them out to you.

Most of the artists who get mentioned in the "great" category have been good, and often "great." My comments with respect to Picasso and Rodin reflect only that they are not the only ones one should know. I respect and admire both, but like many I had been given the impression that they were the "only ones that mattered." It's simply not true, and excessive adulation of the few (especially the few the critics seem to favor) hinders knowing what else is there. To say that I have lost some of my former respect for Rodin now does not mean that I don't value his works; but I now have to compare and relate him to a dozen others, and the competition is stiffer than I expected.

John