Funny Weather: Art in an Emergency

Touches on many aspects of O. Laing’s work. A summer or fall read for you favorite art nerd.

Tremendous writing; filled with great ideas and observations.

Really my only criticism is I wish there were more people of color or trans people. Clear and crisp writing

Just a collection of articles written over not too long ago, mostly in the last five years, mostly on the subject of art, artists and authors. Most of the pieces are fairly short, sometimes too short - the best ones you definitely wish were longer. Most of the essays are finely written and insightful. There’s some overlap with her much better (from what I remember), earlier book, The Lonely City. There’s also some essays in this book that overlap with essays in this book, covering the same topic, or repeating the same anecdote, which is unfortunate. Laing also spends some time writing about very well covered 20th century artists, like Basquiat, Hockney and O’Keeffe, and while I thought those types of essays were well done, I’m not sure how much they were needed? I think I enjoyed the essays about authors and especially the more personal essays the best, like sitting to have her portrait painted by Chantal Joffe, or visiting Ali Smith. Over the course of the book, you really get a sense of Olivia Laing as a true believer in the power of art, but I gotta say, when I finished the book, I didn’t feel totally convinced myself.

This book is not what it appears to be. The description and title describe it as defending art in these insane times, illustrating it’s importance in the face of unprecedented absurdity. However, it’s just a series of essays on art or artists and does not go into what it claims to set out to achieve in the forward. Instead, it’s flat out boring. Not once was I moved by any of it and not once does she defend art. The only thing I gleaned from it was some the artists I hadn’t heard about that were showcased, yet it just made me want to experience those original works and not these mostly bland description. It’s like the author had compiled a few years worth of essays for the Guardian or the NYT’s and stuck a title on it that would sell more copies, replete with Wojnarowicz’s urgent photo piece on the cover. I’ve never bought a book where I feel as though I’ve been had, all for the price of nearly $30. Sucks. Don’t waste your money. She goes so far as to end it almost in cringe with “love letters” to the likes of Bowie and Arthur Russell, and somehow makes them boring. Maybe if it was presented for what it actually is, a plain collection of art essays, I wouldn’t be as scathing. But if that were the case, I wouldn’t have purchased it. Sucks.

I love nonfiction and couldn’t wait for this. It put me to sleep, multiple times. It’s unfortunately just not that good.

I love this book, and I think Olivia Laing is brilliant. However, my copy seems to be damaged, and when I opened the amazon box, the book appeared to be partially soaked in grease or oil of some sort? Very strange.