A Student Review to Doss' 20th-Century American Art

          Twentieth- Century American Art by Erika Doss is a great book for those who appreciate studying / learning about America's cultural and aesthetic legacy of the last century, some of which being the foundations and struggle of American Modern Art contending with Europe, the often overlooked and significant "Outsider Art," "Junk/Funk Art," The Feminist and Body Art Movements during and post Civil Rights Movement Era, the transition from Alain Locke's "New Negro" Art Movement to activist orientated / conceptual art as well as Pop Art's rapture of consumerism in Post War America. 
          This book effectively breaks down the periods of American Art within the last century, focusing on the development of different styles, their influences, their fore-runners, but also the cultural and historical context between the art and sociopolitical affairs during their time. Essentially, everything is linked; this book identifies the connections between art and culture, economy, politics, nationalism, etc. Erika Doss exceptionally correlates style to society, artists to activism, mediums to media, and does so with a wide range of subject matter. 
          Twentieth Century American Art is also satisfying because of the artists that are listed and discussed as influences to famous artists and not just the famous artists themselves; it is important to remember how art is influenced by more sources than just famous predecessors of the art world, and this book expresses that. It is also vital to appreciate the inclusion of female, LGBT, and ethnically diverse artists in American Art, and to remember that many art movements tended to initially be male dominated and ignored these individuals. Doss includes blurbs throughout the book and specific chapters which unravel and analyze the work of many artists that were originally excluded from early to mid 20th century American "art scenes," as well as their creative quest for recognition which climaxed during the cultural wars of the 1980's. 
          Plenty of inspiring artworks, artists, historical information and cultural summaries are touched upon within this book. And don't be afraid to grab a dictionary to go with this book as well, and take your time, I know I did! Doss applies a riveting vocabulary to her historical art descriptions and discussions, words that paint a vivid picture themselves, words that can be gratifyingly understood with a quick look at a handy dictionary if need be. Enjoy!

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Titus

Bus Stop bangbang

He was waiting to be picked up all day at Terminal Station 69, plenty of people; plenty of wasted time. 

Until finally a little after half past three, he whispered a prayer into the morning breeze. 

Out of the mists came a rainbow bus entitled the Devil's Children Hailers of Satin, "was this a chance?" His heart started racin'. 

Filled with Drag Queens and soon to be Mothers, it was a beautiful family unlike any other. 

They made some room for the Man but it was tight, and on the party went with paradise in sight.

avenues of my mind

"unconventional events at ionic venues."

maybaline mascara
tweezers
nail clippers
lint roller
pretzals extra sauce

"hey its for you"
"who is it?"
"i don't know, but his voice washed over me like a dark and powerful river..."
"oh gimme the phone thats for me."

"i used to hate taking shits in school, but ever since i got an A on my midterm, I love taking shits in school."

"soft tissue trauma."

"i want evocation, space, a place between experience and desire."

"i think winter is my favorite season because its pallid breaks everyone down, and something has to heat it up."

"waiting in line to get his adderal prescription while fox news is playing in an otherwise completely silent candy store before class."

"as hot as a candle about to snuff itself out."

"i identify with women. i feel their plight and envy their strength. i aspire to their loveliness and crave their ferocity. And if i had a clit, the media would have to ask for consent before they eat it up. But I am a man, a man for women. I am thy androgynous acolyte, i am theirs."

"reversing the idealized mathematical and simplified scene for continuation, and order, into chaos; the meandering patterns are crashing into each other making the negative space and shapes surrounding the pattern a place for breathing. Their is a lack of unity in terms of composition, but conceptually there is a balanced conflict of space between chaos and order. It exists because of rhythm and the form of the patterns' shape, they are choppy and archaic."

"the forever cunts"

"facial hair up the ass"

"if you can shit, then you're an artist."

"skateboards blading down the earthquaked streets as wine is pouring down the gutters inebriating the planets core;  a climate of anarchy,
Anarchy,
Anarchy."

"she was knitting from barbed twine dyed with period blood."

"i often fantasize about driving my car really fucking fast and crashing into the guard rail or making a massive mixture of vodka, whiskey, red bull, and urine, chug it down as i slam bottles of glass on the ground and roll around on it as red paint is being poured all over me and bump into everyone. I take a bunch of women's health magazines pile them up coated in gasoline and set them on fire as i scream the word society Society SOCIETY over and over again. I strip down naked and pull the katana out of my ass, i slash up the police car's tires, and slice my college transcript in half. Finally i run the blade smoothly into my trachea and glitter pours out to flood the world."

"My Hungarian princess pioska, she died in a thunderstorm. God I need heirs i Need heirs. What is my world without heirs. And the Sultan wept a river that carried him to Babylon, where he found the sorcerer prince. The sorcerer prince sent the serpents to the sultan, seduced him to the waters that carried him swiftly to the river den, made of chewed bark from the beavers' conquests, much like those of men. An empire fell to the sweat and steam of a smoldering cabin fervor, a hurricane of passion. They sailed away and everywhere they bent their knees the world became more beautiful. Once scorned as witches or Satin's sons, The prince became a Queen, the Sultan an Empress, they knew how to make the flowers grow."

"frenetic composure."

"he was a punk rock poet, with penetrating words. You'd know if you saw him because of his eyes; they sparkled."