Ah, the artist’s critique, there are dozens of us out here, I assure you... The age old question, what is art? Hence, who is an artist? In the case of Mr. Kincade, his use or misuse of a “style”, was his style, whether borrowed or original, he has made his impression on this world. He is envied by many would be artists; his work had a demand, and he died selling his work, something many artists only dream about. Poor is the artist who screams, “THIS IS ART”, for it expresses a depravity no other medium can. Many may side with his definition, but few would actually buy his “stuff”. Say what you will, Kincade’s work whether art or craft, will fill at least one page of art history, ten, twenty, probably 100 years from now... our work most probably, will not.
Inept kitsch doesn’t last and doesn’t enter history books! (If I’m wrong, show me an art history book which admiringly cites kitsch from 100 and 200 years ago.) Kinkade’s kitsch has been successful only because of marketing. (Still, it bankrupted many Kinkade franchised gallery owners.) There are many American artists that even the buyers of Kinkade prints (yes, they are all prints, with dabbles of paint made by slave workers in his San Jose factory) could appreciate, yet they starve, because all art, music, literature in this country have been industrialized and sold by marketing organizations, like toothpaste and cereal. Trash is trash and our duty to ourselves is to learn the difference between , say, Kenny G, and James Galloway.