This essay critically examines the self-referentiality of contemporary art and curatorial practices within the framework of prostitutional aesthetics, a term denoting the commodification of artistic production and those who create and curate it as it increasingly mirrors corporate branding and capitalist self-promotion. By interrogating the intersections of public art, social activism, and personal branding, the essay reveals the ethical compromises embedded in socially engaged art as a vehicle for aesthetic propagandism. Drawing on historical and contemporary examples, such as Yayoi Kusama’s Narcissus Garden and Maurizio Cattelan’s Comedian, the analysis highlights the tension between public visibility, artistic legitimacy, and institutional marginalization.

The discussion situates these phenomena within the broader sociopolitical context, exploring the commodification of public spaces and the digital amplification of relational aesthetics that prioritize homogeneity and conformity. Employing Jürgen Habermas’s theory of the public sphere as a critical lens, the essay challenges idealized notions of inclusive and dialogic public spaces, exposing their exclusionary dynamics.

By critiquing the artist’s and curator’s personae and their entanglements with media, institutions, and economic survival, the essay highlights how art as a public practice has been co-opted into neoliberal paradigms. The conclusion calls for a re-evaluation of public art’s capacity to foster genuine socio-political engagement, positing that the reclamation of public space must address the exploitation of the notion of public space as well as artists, audiences, and societal structures.

Introduction: Public Art as Professional Public Prostitution of the Self

This essay examines the self-referential role of contemporary art—encompassing both artists and curators—as a propagandistic apparatus that often falls short of the threshold of Art, as defined by Ernst Gombrich, and instead operates as a partisan mechanism serving broader sociopolitical and economic agendas. Rather than achieving transcendence, much of this self-referential practice is entangled in the marketing machinery of the public sphere, where the production and promotion of artistic actions and artworks become vehicles for the accumulation of personal capital at the expense of their purported public mission. [1]

The alignment of contemporary artists and curators with corporate propagandistic imperatives has positioned socially engaged public art as complicit in the reproduction of capitalist ideologies, betraying the ethical aspirations that ostensibly defined its genesis after 1945 with the daring experimentations within the most outrageous realms by the Viennese Actionists. [2] The influence of figures like Andy Warhol [3] along with the revival socially engaged art in the 1990s and 2000s, reshaped public art into a vehicle for advertising the celebrity cult and affirming corporate identity, all in pursuit of the spotlight of fame. [4] Socially engaged art, instead of fulfilling its promise as a medium for communal benefit, has devolved into an instrument of individualistic accumulation, prioritizing the enhancement of personal visibility and market value over the interests of the communities it claims to serve. [5]

This analysis interrogates the ethical compromises of such practices, drawing on historical and contemporary examples to illuminate how the commodification of public art mirrors broader societal trends of neoliberal exploitation. [6] The essay critiques the reduction of socially engaged art to aestheticized propaganda and raises critical questions about the potential for art to transcend its complicity within capitalist structures to foster genuine socio-political engagement.

As this essay unfolds, the controversy surrounding Maurizio Cattelan’s Comedian (2019)—famously known as the “banana duct-taped to a wall”—has once again captured public attention. Recently, Sotheby’s auctioned the work for $5.8 million, reigniting debates over the boundaries of art, the commodification of conceptual practices, and the role of fame in contemporary art. [7] Despite the cacophony of critiques, social media outrage, and ongoing institutional dialogues, one indisputable victor emerges: the enduring fame of Cattelan.

Cattelan’s meticulous cultivation of his public persona, blending subversive irony with strategic market engagements, mirrors the survival imperative articulated by Yayoi Kusama, who famously quipped that to succeed, an artist must be prepared to “jump off the Empire State Building or do just about anything to be famous.” [8] Few living artists have so expertly wielded fame as a medium, not merely to provoke but to dominate the art market’s attention economy, making publicness with every gesture.

Virgil’s reflections on Fama, the Latin Goddess of fame/rumor/gossip as both a destructive and redemptive force, underscore the dualities embedded in Cattelan’s career, but also in a variety of modern and contemporary artists. [9] Like the mythical figure of Fama—swift, insatiable, and all-encompassing—Cattelan’s fame transcends the work itself, challenging not only the definition of art but also its reception within a neoliberal cultural landscape that prioritizes spectacle over substance, no matter if the artwork is empty or full of substance. Spectacle is and remains the only reason for successful art, mixing truth and lies, in that infamous statement of truthful hyperboles.

 

“[I]llam Terra parens ira inritata deorum

extremam, ut perhibent, Coeo Enceladoque sororem 

progenuit pedibus celerem et pernicibus alis,

monstrum horrendum, ingens, cui quot sunt corpore plumae, 

tot uigiles oculi subter (mirabile dictu),

tot linguae, totidem ora sonant, tot subrigit auris.” [10]

 

It is in this context that Cattelan’s practice exemplifies a broader phenomenon that could be aptly described as the ultimate commodification of artistic identity—a melding of art and advertising that caters to the demands of institutional and corporate patrons and that is independent of the production of art itself and artistry. A pivotal moment in this trajectory was the emergence of the Young British Artists (YBAs), whose careers were initially orchestrated by advertising magnates such as Charles Saatchi. While initially heralded as cultural trailblazers, their legacy, particularly in the case of Damien Hirst, has increasingly been defined by a middle-class institutionalism and a relentless pursuit of financial gain. [11]

Two other significant figures who epitomize the intersection of advertising and artistic identity are Jeff Koons [12] and Banksy. Though they operate within different spheres, Koons catering to a general affluent elite and Banksy to a left-leaning, socially conscious Hollywood elite, both exemplify an approach that prioritizes marketability over substantive artistic engagement in a mediating and mediated environment that is able to transform aesthetic critiques in self-validating moments. The resulting artworks, while striking and often polarizing, are frequently critiqued for embodying spectacle and superficiality rather than depth and enduring artistic value. 

The interplay between moral stances and the commodification of art in public spaces reveals a profound shift in the dynamics of cultural engagement. Public spaces, once vibrant arenas for dialogue and communal interaction, have been subsumed into arenas for molding corporate and political consent—categories that increasingly appear indistinguishable in contemporary society. This is a space that for the past thirty years has been almost an exclusive dominion of the left and its cultural imposition of the interpretation of reality, the social, and the mores that regulate the public space. These spaces, instead of fostering artistic exchange, have become stages for orchestrated spectacles where art events serve as tools for manipulating attention, directing it toward select artists for the benefit of collectors and auction houses. Such spectacles culminate in moments like the sale of the “most expensive NFT in the world,” [13] a record-breaking transaction whose value lies not in artistic merit but in its ability to generate headlines and inflate market perceptions. This transformation signals the rise of the auction house as a central player in shaping cultural discourse, shifting its events from semi-private gatherings to heavily publicized extravaganzas that equate price with value, further entrenching this conflation in the public imagination and the public space. [14]

The self-referentiality of the corporate art world thrives on the exclusion of traditional arbiters of value—art historians and critics—from the mechanisms that now dictate worth. Instead, auction houses and collectors dominate, driven by self-interest and the imperative to fabricate value where little to none exists. [15] This collusion, realized in collaboration with public institutions starved for cash and whose curators enforce no boundaries to limit conflicts of interest when are not actively looking for murky exchanges, constructs a feedback loop where perceived value and actual price are mutually reinforcing, creating what Jean Baudrillard might describe as a “simulacrum,” a reality defined by signs that obscure any meaningful referent. [16] By sidelining critical discourse, this system prioritizes spectacle over substance, commodification over creativity, and market manipulation over genuine cultural engagement. As a result, artworks that might otherwise hold minimal artistic significance are artificially imbued with prestige, transforming them into lucrative assets rather than cultural artifacts. [17]

Art criticism has largely devolved into little more than the ephemeral chatter of social media, a platform where engagement—whether favorable or scathing—inevitably amplifies visibility and sustains publicity. [18] In this context, the quality or substance of the critique is rendered irrelevant; the mere act of attention, regardless of intent, becomes commodified. [19] This dynamic perpetuates a trend wherein media coverage, driven by sensationalism and viral potential, prioritizes visibility over meaningful discourse. [20] The relentless pursuit of hype has transformed criticism into a spectacle, a performance complicit in the monetization of attention itself. [21] In this system, both critics and their subjects become participants in a transactional economy of visibility, where the ultimate goal is not insight or understanding, but the relentless generation of capital through exposure. [22]

Sotheby’s, with its headline-grabbing auctioning of Banksy’s Love is in the Bin [23] and Cattelan’s Comedian, exemplifies the growing trend of blending high-stakes financial maneuvers with public spectacle. These events, though celebrated as “innovative” or “disruptive,” are little more than choreographed performances designed to legitimize contemporary art as a vehicle for obscene wealth rather than cultural innovation. [24] They generate controversy, certainly, but do little to ignite the social imaginary beyond showcasing art as an elaborate game of manipulation—a game in which even the artists are excluded from the real spoils. [25] Instead, these moments emphasize the convergence of collectors, auction houses, and media conglomerates in a rigged system that transforms the art world into a parody of itself. [26]

The resentment toward this system is palpable. The contemporary art world increasingly resembles the entertainment industry, where meritocracy is little more than a quaint relic. [27] Networks of privilege and carefully negotiated relationships—sometimes personal, sometimes transactional, and often sexual—dictate success far more than talent or labor. [28] Let us not forget Jackson Pollock, the poster child of mid-century American abstraction, who engaged in sexual liaisons with Peggy Guggenheim to secure her patronage. [29] Call it ambition, call it opportunism—Pollock’s dalliance is no different from the Faustian bargains that many emerging artists are forced to strike today, though most would be lucky to find a patron as influential as Guggenheim. The bitter irony is that while Justin Bieber, who achieved fame at an early age, is a victim because of his age of the manipulations of P. Diddy, Pollock was neither underage nor unaware of the transactional nature of his ascent. [30]

This is not a moral argument—God forbid! Morality is the least interesting lens through which to view these dynamics. Instead, it is a critique of an unlevel playing field where the rules of the game are rigged, and hard work is a laughable notion. Let us call it what it is: Art Whoring 101. Perhaps it’s time to formalize this in the curriculum of art schools, as a preparatory course for students entering an industry where physical and intellectual prostitution are often prerequisites for survival.

The public space of traditional and digital media has become the principal marketplace where artists are required to brand themselves into existence. [31] Visibility is currency, and the commodification of the artist—now as much a product as their work—drives the contemporary art economy. [32] Yet even the creation of an artist’s brand offers no guarantee of enduring value. Like all brands, their worth is subject to the whims of market forces and the shifting tides of cultural interest. [33] History reminds us that without dedicated efforts to preserve and contextualize art, its value quickly erodes. After all, when empires collapse and civilizations burn, the worth of cultural artifacts is often reduced to the weight of their metals or the glint of their gemstones. [34] In this context, most of today’s contemporary art—untethered from any meaningful cultural framework—would likely meet the same fate.

It is in this post-postmodern context of public space and publicness that the destruction of Michelangelo Pistoletto’s La Venere degli Stracci (Venus of the Rags) by an arsonist in Naples—dismissed reductively as the work of “Vandals” in mainstream discourse—offers a potent metaphor for the widening chasm between institutional art and the public it ostensibly seeks to serve. This act of arson, far from a mere instance of delinquency, embodies a deeper frustration with contemporary artistic practices that claim inclusivity but remain disconnected from the lived realities of the communities they purport to engage. At its core, the burning of Pistoletto’s work reflects a broader critique of institutionalized art’s failure to resonate meaningfully with those outside the rarefied leftist circles of cultural production. Rather than serving as a bridge to public engagement, so called interactive and public works of art increasingly functions as a mechanism of acculturation, perpetuating social hierarchies while masquerading as vehicles for democratic expression. The act of burning the work transcends simple vandalism, encapsulating a broader frustration with contemporary artistic production and more importantly with political governance: art that is ostensibly for the people but palpably disconnected from their lived realities.

“Pistoletto si dice spaventato, più che stupito, da quanto accaduto: ‘Perché mi mette davanti a una situazione drammatica del nostro tempo: un tempo in cui si continua a rispondere a qualsiasi proposta di bellezza, di pace e di armonia con il fuoco e con la guerra’.” 

Pistoletto’s comment clearly grasp  the zeitgeist of our times, in which beauty is, indeed, consumable and consumed. The Venus, with its carefully curated assemblage of rags, ostensibly sought to critique consumerism and celebrate the ethos of recycling, does not escape the violent divisions of the public space. [38] Yet the stracci in question—symbolic though they were [39]—remained curiously sanitized, stripped of the raw, unvarnished realities of Neapolitan life. These were not the soiled remnants of the city’s systemic inequities or the enduring stains of its institutional corruption. Nor did they evoke the tattered lives of the displaced, those relegated to urban peripheries by cycles of gentrification veiled as cultural renewal. Instead, the rags appeared imported, abstracted from the material and social fabric of Naples itself. [40] This disjunction rendered the work an alien simulacrum, an aestheticized artifact that failed to capture the visceral textures of a city grappling with profound socio-economic precarity.

The rags of the homeless man who set the Venus ablaze were not part of the installation, and while not everyone could be part of the installation, the sculpture unwittingly become an ulterior symbol of social divide. The burning of La Venere degli Stracci, therefore, cannot be disentangled from the broader socio-political tensions that define Naples. The city has long been a site of contested cultural narratives, where public spaces often bear the weight of historical and contemporary struggles over identity and belonging. The Venus, though a critique of consumer excess, inadvertently exemplified the very detachment it sought to interrogate. By abstracting the rags from their lived contexts, the work became emblematic of a broader trend in contemporary art: the aestheticization of social critique without meaningful engagement with its underlying realities.

This critique aligns with broader theoretical discussions on the role of art in public spaces. Scholars such as Rosalyn Deutsche have argued that public art often risks becoming a spectacle of inclusion while evading the complexities of social and spatial inequities. [41] Similarly, Grant Kester’s emphasis on dialogical aesthetics highlights the necessity of art practices that genuinely engage with the communities they address, fostering reciprocal dialogues rather than imposing external narratives. [42] Within this framework, the destruction of La Venere degli Stracci can be read as a violent rejection of an art form perceived as detached, a rupture in the uneasy relationship between institutional aesthetics, politics, and the public sphere.

This dissonance ensured that the destruction of La Venere degli Stracci failed to ignite the collective imaginary of Naples, exposing the growing alienation between institutional art and public sentiment. Rather than serving as a catalyst for communal reflection or cultural cohesion, the work became a consumable object—first devoured by fire and then by the insatiable demands of the media spectacle. The arson marked not merely the end of the artwork’s physical form but also the beginning of its reduction to a commodified afterlife, where its critical intentions were stripped of potency and repurposed for entertainment and discourse within the media apparatus.

Vittorio Sgarbi, an Italian art critic and “cultural” figure, claimed the act of destruction bestowed a “new life” upon the artwork, framing the fire as a form of mythological rebirth akin to the phoenix rising from its ashes. However, this interpretation overlooks the nature of this so-called revival. The flames conferred no transcendence but instead delivered the Venus and its ashes into the clutches of commodification. Far from achieving the timeless resonance that Pistoletto may have envisioned, the work was subsumed into the ephemeral churn of the 24-hour news cycle, where its critique of consumption was itself consumed. In this hollowed-out state, the Venus no longer stood as a symbol of renewal but as a fragmented reminder of institutional art’s vulnerability to reappropriation and reinterpretation in ways that reinforce, rather than resist, prevailing systems of commodification.

The spectacle of the Venus’s destruction exemplifies what Guy Debord termed “the society of the spectacle,” wherein the representation of events overtakes their substantive reality, reducing them to mere images to be consumed. [43] The fire, in this context, became both the medium and the message, recasting the Venus not as a site of reflection on consumerism and waste but as a symbol of institutional failure to engage the public in meaningful dialogue. As the work dissolved into ashes, so too did its capacity to transcend its material form and engage with the pressing socio-political conditions that defined its setting.

The Venus’s mediated afterlife reveals deeper issues within the institutional frameworks of contemporary art. As Rosalyn Deutsche argues, public art often risks becoming a spectacle of inclusion that evades the complex socio-political inequities it claims to address. [44] Similarly, Hal Foster critiques the tendency of contemporary art to operate within a “recuperative cycle,” wherein even the most radical critiques are co-opted by the systems they seek to challenge. [45] In the case of Pistoletto’s Venus, its destruction underscores the fragility of institutional art’s claims to accessibility and engagement, exposing its susceptibility to appropriation by forces it cannot control: a disenchated, cynical, and angry public. 

The flames conferred not a mythological rebirth but a commodified afterlife, reducing the Venus to mere fodder for news cycles. Rather than achieving transcendence, the work was reduced to ashes—its critique of consumption hollowed out and devoured anew by the media apparatus.

This ironic conclusion—art as both critic and victim of consumption—lays bare the deeper absurdities of the art world. Had the Pistoletto Foundation capitalized on the incident by auctioning the charred remnants under the title La Venere delle Ceneri (Venus of the Ashes), [46] the work might have ascended to the status of a Sotheby’s spectacle, joining the likes of Banksy’s Love Is in the Bin or Cattelan’s Comedian. [47] 

Image 2: Lanfranco Aceti, La Venere delle Ceneri (Venus of the Ashes), 2024. After: Michelangelo Pistoletto.

Such a sale would have perpetuated the Venus’s media presence, transforming it into the art market’s latest phoenix. The potential for ensuing legal battles—imagine the arsonist claiming co-authorship of the ashes—would have generated ceaseless publicity, highlighting the performative absurdities surrounding authorship and ownership in contemporary art and public space.

Yet Italy’s Ministry of Culture has long been hampered by a lack of imagination, competence, and professionalism. Its failure to adopt innovative strategies for leveraging the cultural and economic potential of both historical and contemporary art reflects a persistent inability to navigate the complexities of the modern art ecosystem. This missed opportunity underscores deeper and broader structural deficiencies in cultural policy, particularly its disconnection from the cultural, prostitutional, and financial dynamics of global artistic and economic exchange. Italian cultural policy systematically rejects and sidelines merit in favor of localized, controllable forms of prostitutional aesthetics. These choices reflect a political preference for control, prioritizing manageability over merit as the primary tool for enforcing prostitutional aesthetics—even at the expense of broader cultural and artistic advancement.

The burning of La Venere degli Stracci embodies a paradoxical vitality: it persists, not as a public monument or a shared symbol, but as a mediated event. This act of destruction foregrounds the precarious duality of contemporary art, which oscillates between its role as an exalted cultural artifact and its vulnerability as a disposable commodity. In Naples—a city renowned for the richness of its public spaces and the vibrancy of its collective rituals—the inability of La Venere degli Stracci to integrate meaningfully into the urban fabric reflects a deeper crisis within contemporary art. This crisis stems from its struggle to reconcile institutional aspirations with the chaotic, lived experiences of a public sphere increasingly marked by antagonism.

The failure of La Venere degli Stracci to resonate as a site of collective engagement underscores the challenges facing public art in a context where publicness itself is shaped by disillusionment and rage. This anger, rooted in the impossibility of imagining alternative futures, highlights the widening gap between the lofty ambitions of cultural institutions and the socio-political realities of the communities they aim to address. Far from achieving its intended role as a catalyst for dialogue, the work’s destruction exposes the fragility of contemporary art’s claim to social relevance in an era defined by widespread cultural and political alienation. [48]

This episode presented a unique opportunity for transformation, one that could have been seized by the Pistoletto Foundation, but more importantly from the municipality of Naples and the Italian Ministry of Culture, to exemplify contemporary art management through the strategic deployment of media and public discourse. A plan—admittedly cynical and prostitutional—might have ensured the enduring relevance of Italian contemporary art on the international stage, positioning it as a formidable force in global cultural dialogues. Yet, this opportunity was squandered, leaving Italian contemporary art largely defined by its entrenchment in 19th-century media paradigms.

These paradigms, emblematic of an aesthetic framework tethered to bureaucratic inertia, reveal a persistent inability to adapt to the demands of a U.S.-dominated contemporary mediated culture. While individual figures like Cattelan have achieved international recognition by leveraging the dynamics of prostitutional aesthetics, many Italian institutions remain disconnected from this reality. Their reluctance to embrace the transformative potential of new media dynamics—not only for visibility but for cultivating enduring cultural significance—underscores a broader crisis in art management. This crisis is particularly paradoxical for a nation with such a profound and expansive cultural legacy, one that should, by all accounts, be at the forefront of innovative art practices, arts management and media cultural engagement.

The failure to exploit this potential represents more than a missed managerial opportunity; it reflects a deeper incapacity to ignite the collective imaginary in ways that could sustain La Venere degli Stracci as a living symbol beyond its destruction. By failing to transform the event into a focal point of cultural discourse, Italian institutions lost a chance to generate the kind of permanent resonance—a “flame” of cultural vitality—that would have kept the work alive not merely in the present as a post-postmodern sound bite but as an enduring part of cultural memory and imaginary. This shortcoming reveals a profound need to rethink the frameworks, the post-postmodernist frayed grid, within which Italian contemporary art operates, to ensure it can adapt to and shape the global cultural landscape rather than remain peripheral to its evolution, constantly trapped in the myths and imaginaries of the Avant-Garde and Trans-Avantgarde, and sidelined within an increasingly competitive cultural market.

“But by depriving their world of development, one is obviously not depriving it of quality. There is no necessary connection between good art and change, no matter how conditioned we may be to think that there is. Indeed, as we have a more and more extended experience of the grid, we have discovered that one of the most modernist things about it is its capacity to serve as a paradigm or model for the antidevelopmental, the antinarrative, the antihistorical.” [49] And as Pistoletto might add: for the anti-aesthetic and the anti-imaginary.

It is the anti-imaginary of a late capitalist world that through the consumable reification of the image [50] effectively engages the public, the city of Naples, and a global audience, offering the spectacle of a reimagined La Venere degli Stracci, which could draw its materials—symbolic rags—from the lived experiences of individuals marginalized by life’s adversities: broken relationships, unemployment, illness, and societal alienation. This symbolic gesture of mediated belonging and participation could be expanded to include contributions from public figures, whose highly visible struggles mirror those of ordinary people. For instance, rags representing the dissolution of high-profile relationships or the “dirty laundry” of global celebrities, such as Ferragnez or Justin Bieber, alongside those of anonymous individuals from all walks of life, could offer a potent commentary on shared vulnerability across social strata. [51]

The rags themselves could be visually documented and cataloged on social media platforms, establishing a participatory digital archive. [52] This archive would serve as a lasting record of the materials, their origins, and their transformation. Meanwhile, the physical mass of rags would culminate in an annual ritual: a symbolic burning at midnight every New Year’s Eve, staged in the heart of Naples to underscore themes of renewal, collective memory, and socio-cultural critique. Such a public-facing process would amplify the work’s reach, transforming La Venere degli Stracci into a mediated spectacle that bridges art and life. Yet, these are not the bandiere (flags) envisioned by Pier Paolo Pasolini—symbols of collective ideals—but fragments of personal and societal failure. [53] Their inevitable destruction through an annual New Year’s Eve burning would inaugurate La Venere delle Fiamme (Venus of the Flames) [55], a performance rooted in the cyclical themes of struggle, destruction, and renewal. 

Image 3: Lanfranco Aceti, La Venere delle Fiamme (Venus of the Flames), 2024. After: Michelangelo Pistoletto.

This event could position Naples as an intellectual and cultural epicenter, challenging the diminishing relevance of festivals like Burning Man by offering a profound reflection on the human condition and the human need to post selfies in front of a burning artwork. [55]

Following the flames, La Venere delle Ceneri (Venus of Ashes) would emerge, embodying both the fragility of life and the resilience of hope. [56] This ritualistic cycle could foster a deeper connection between contemporary art and public life, offering not just a reified consumable spectacle but a transformative cultural narrative that speaks to universal experiences of loss and rebirth. Such an approach would highlight Naples’ potential to redefine urban cultural production, leveraging its unique social fabric and historical depth to create a globally resonant phenomenon, packaged for consumers in search of feelings to mediate that can no longer be felt.

Instead, the opportunity to generate such an anti-meaningful engagement remains unrealized. The administrative and cultural institutions of Naples, instead of embracing the radical gesture that was the burning of La Venere degli Stracci, have largely lamented the event as a “Vandalic” act. This response reveals a fundamental disconnect between the institutional perception of contemporary art and the realities of peripheral urban life. [57] Here, the act of destruction was not one of disaffection but rather an expression of profound societal alienation, where the currency of interaction is reduced to rage and indifference—a stark reminder of the precarity endured by those excluded from dominant cultural narratives. [58]

This failure to transform La Venere degli Stracci into a vehicle for deeper cultural critique and renewal underscores broader systemic issues in Italian cultural management. [59] Italian institutions should excel at reimagining their role within global contemporary art and public spaces, yet these institutions frequently falter, mired in outdated frameworks and an inability to engage effectively with the mediated realities of post-postmodern international public life. [60] 

The term “prostitutional aesthetics,” while undeniably provocative, aptly encapsulates the coerced imperative for contemporary art to navigate the spectacle-driven frameworks of global media. This concept highlights the transactional relationship between artistic production and its consumption within hypermediated environments, where art must often sacrifice nuance for visibility. [61] Cattelan’s rise to prominence these days, largely facilitated by Sotheby’s, exemplifies the strategic acumen required to thrive in this milieu. His works reflect a deliberate manipulation of media appetites for controversy, generating cultural resonance that transcends the traditional confines of the art world. [62]

This mastery of media dynamics contrasts sharply with the inertia of many Italian cultural institutions. Rather than innovating or even effectively adapting to these mediated contexts, such institutions often fail to assert their relevance in an increasingly algorithm-driven global public landscape. [63] The lack of strategic engagement with social media platforms, principally due to a lack of knowledge and understanding, further exacerbates cultural organization’s marginalization, leaving them vulnerable to the whims of puritanical censorship and algorithmic shadow banning—both of which threaten the visibility and vitality of Italian cultural production, whether archaeological or contemporary. [64]

To counteract this erosion, Italian institutions must reconceptualize their strategies, recognizing that control over narrative and media representation is no longer ancillary but central to their survival together with the development of new imaginaries which are based on professionalism and merit, not solely on prostitutional engagements. [65] This entails not only an embrace of digital platforms but also a critical interrogation of their limitations and biases, including the economic and cultural hegemony that governs them. [66] Moreover, a concerted effort to defend Italian contemporary cultural heritage from the homogenizing forces of global puritanism is essential. Without this recalibration, the rich and multifaceted traditions of Italian contemporary art risk being relegated to obscurity in a world increasingly dominated by the imperial spectacle and algorithmic control of reified anti-imaginary images. [67]

Even more revealing of this spectacle is the disparity between the potential of Italy’s media landscape and its lack of application to the promotion of contemporary art. A recent episode involving the Italian Minister of Culture demonstrated the media’s capacity to create a national scandal by sensationalizing a narrative centered on sexual seduction for career advancement. This love triangle captivated public attention, underscoring the titillating power of prostitutional aesthetic exchanges, that bypass merit and professionalism, to shape cultural conversations. [68] However, this media’s ability to engage and provoke was driven by political Alt_Left interests and not by cultural interests in the validity of merit and professionalism over prostitutional exchanges. The Alt_Left had no interest in effectively leveraging the realm of modern and contemporary art, but only that of scoring a political goal limiting its reach to a specific case and not to analyzing the complexity of a politicized cultural landscape, of which they are a systemic entity, that prefers sycophantic political obsequience and familism to merit and professionalism. [69]

If Italian cultural leaders were to at least adopt “professional” media prostitutional strategies, they could catalyze national and international discourse, propelling Italian art—and its curators and artists—onto a global platform. [70] This would require not only an institutional adaptation to the demands of media and U.S.-driven cultural paradigms but also a deliberate and calculated negotiation of the degree to which art and identity are commodified for cultural prominence. [71] 

This process can be aptly characterized as “professional prostitutional aesthetics,” wherein the artist and cultural institutions engage with commercial and media forces to secure visibility and influence not solely for self-interest but also, even in if in a small part, for superior ethical values. [72] In Italy, the phenomenon of prostitutional aesthetics remains trapped within a “cottage industry” model, where individuals often compromise physical and intellectual prostitution for exhibitions, governmental appointments, or academic positions. To elevate Italian contemporary art to a position of global leadership, these efforts must transcend individual transactions and evolve into a more robust, corporate financial structure capable with a professional prostitutional aesthetic approach of transforming Italy into a contemporary cultural powerhouse. [73] Such a transformation requires not the mass industrialization of cultural production but the financial and algorithmic establishment of a sustainable ecosystem in which art, media, and institutional collaboration flourish without totally sacrificing artistic integrity or cultural authenticity.

It is a profound misunderstanding, perpetuated by many cultural operators, to regard the success of international events such as those organized by Sotheby’s or Art Basel as mere strokes of fortune. These events are the result of meticulous planning and strategic coordination, executed with the explicit aim of amplifying the global influence of the hosting institution. [74] Through the careful selection of artists and curators, these organizations orchestrate cultural spectacles that not only reinforce their reputations but also position them as pivotal players in the global art market. [75]

The deliberate nature of these strategies underscores the integral role of institutional foresight and media-savvy interventions in achieving cultural prominence. [76] Sotheby’s and Art Basel exemplify this approach by leveraging their platforms to construct narratives that resonate with international audiences, thus ensuring sustained relevance and market dominance. [77] This is not merely a function of curatorial excellence but a demonstration of how cultural institutions can navigate and shape the evolving dynamics of global artistic discourse. [78]

The failure of Italy’s contemporary art institutions to adopt strategic approaches akin to what I have described as “prostitutional aesthetics” reveals a persistent disconnect between the nation’s rich artistic heritage and its contemporary relevance within the frameworks established by U.S.-driven cultural hegemony. [79] These frameworks prioritize media visibility, public engagement, and the commodification of culture as critical tools for maintaining global relevance. [80] Italian cultural administrators, however, have often struggled to navigate this terrain effectively, exemplified by paradoxical incidents such as the gladiatorial contest over Airbnb’s use of the Colosseum or the harsh critique by The New York Times of the restoration of the Fontana di Trevi. [81] Such examples highlight the tension between Italy’s historical grandeur and its struggles to project contemporary cultural leadership on an international stage.

This dissonance is further exacerbated by the diminishing efficacy of traditional mechanisms of influence within Italian cultural institutions, such as nepotism and sexualized exchanges of power, which once guaranteed some forms of visibility and opportunities but now are simply not enough in an increasingly competitive global cultural landscape. [82] In a globalized world where publicness can be easily manipulated to the detriment of Italy’s cultural actors, these outdated practices not only fail to achieve meaningful results but also perpetuate systemic inefficiencies within the familistic structures of both public and private institutions. [83] Instead, Italian contemporary art must critically reimagine its approach, embracing interactive imaginaries and avoiding the passive consumption experiences that render audiences disengaged from cultural narratives. [84]

The promotion of “national champions” and “unique experiences”—artists and curators who are positioned as representatives of their nation’s cultural prowess—has become an increasingly competitive endeavor on the international stage. [85] Yet, this competition operates on an uneven playing field, where nations with robust institutional support and media acumen, such as the U.S. and China, outmaneuver others that fail to strategically invest in their cultural infrastructure or generate globally competitive actors and events. [86] Without an acknowledgment of this disparity and a willingness to adapt, Italian contemporary art risks remaining confined to a cottage industry—dominated by low rent individuals willing to prostitute and exploit themselves for minimal financial gain—unable to assert its rightful place among global cultural powerhouses. [87]

The stakes are clear: Italy’s ability to thrive in the global contemporary art arena depends on a calculated embrace of media-savvy practices, coupled with a renewed focus on systemic reform. Such efforts must prioritize long-term professional institutional support and international collaboration, ensuring that Italian artists and curators can engage meaningfully with global audiences while preserving the integrity of their cultural heritage. Failure to address these issues will perpetuate a cycle of missed opportunities, relegating Italy’s contemporary art sector to the margins of an increasingly interconnected cultural landscape. This marginalization leaves it vulnerable to the dominance of a highly spectacularized yet cultureless brand of U.S. cultural imperialism.

TO BE CONTINUED…

ENDNOTES

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IMAGES

Image Cover: TBA.