Our perception of art that is made by a celebrity is completely shaped by how we feel about that celebrity. A fan is likely to forgive artistic foibles and find a bit of magic in the art of their hero. But if you're sceptical about the name, you will wonder why the art deserves any fame.
One thing is certain – celebrity art is on the rise. Bob Dylan is now a regular exhibitor of painting and sculpture. Andrew Marr has written a book about his love of drawing. And now Sylvester Stallone has a show of his paintings at the Russian Museum in St Petersburg.
This is why I say that how we see the person conditions how we respond to the art. I like Bob Dylan's music so I tend to see the strengths of his art and overlook its weaknesses. This is not that irrational. Dylan is a powerful creative figure: the distinction of his verbal art makes it reasonable to look for poetry in his visual art, even if it is not as original as his songs.
Sadly, I have no feeling for Stallone as an actor whatsoever. I did see a bit of a Rocky film this summer, dubbed into Italian, on a hotel room TV in Rome. He was fighting a Russian. USA!
It's not snobbery that has stopped me following the Stallone oeuvre in any depth – it's just that when I was a student he was associated with Reaganite movies like Rambo. Not to mention Rocky punching that Russian. His image was rightwing as well as well as dumb.
Is that why he's popular in Russia? Is Stallone a hero there because of his anti-Communist associations?
Anyway, his paintings are at the Russian Museum. In photographs they look lurid and bombastical and not very good. But of course – I am seeing the art through the distorting lens of my dislike for the macho Stallone persona.
Even his art has a 1980s look, with hints of late Warhol portraits and Julian Schnabel-style neo-expressionism. In fact he knew Warhol, whose photographic portrait of him is tender and loving.
In reality there is no law that says our heroes and antiheroes have to be themselves. Lou Reed was Warhol's friend and protégé, and his songs such as Heroin are the aural equivalents of Warhol's disaster paintings. But when Reed staged his album Berlin he worked with Schnabel, a much less cool artistic associate. Reed's career, which included plenty of mistakes, proved one thing about true art. It has nothing to with good taste. (His collaboration with Schnabel was a passionate triumph.)
Sylvester Stallone's paintings look lousy from this distance, but you never know when art will strike. Reed, after all, once wrote a great song about drinking Dubonnet and ice.
