In Praise of the Monstrous: What Rejected Kitsch Reveals About the Boundaries of Taste
The strangest thing about an ugly object is how easily its ugliness can disappear when the right person decides to love it. A porcelain dog on a suburban mantelpiece might look hopelessly tacky. Put the same dog in a gallery, describe it as an exploration of domestic sentiment, and people may stop laughing. Give it a designer’s name, photograph it against a concrete wall, and someone might pay hundreds of times its original price. The dog has not changed. Its glaze has not improved, and its proportions have not become less absurd. What has changed is the story surrounding it, and the authority of the person telling that story. This is where the subject of vernacular ugliness becomes more interesting than a simple defense of quirky interiors. We often assume that people disagree about beauty because everyone has different preferences. But taste also determines whose preferences deserve respect. One person’s treasured ornament becomes another person’s evidence of vulgarity. One person’s ...
