‘Crumb’s World’ (review)

Art by R. Crumb
Curated by Robert Storr
Published by David Zwirner Books

Crumb’s World is a catalogue of a 2019 New York City gallery exhibition of the works of legendary artist R. Crumb.

Love him or hate him, it’s impossible to deny Crumb’s importance in the world of comics and, these days, in the world of art.

He is, of course, also a world class unfiltered commentator on any and all aspects of the human condition.

That said, this nearly 200-page catalogue is a scattershot disappointment.

It starts out with a 16-page essay by one Robert Storr with the impressively ostentatious title of, “A Propos R. Crumb: A Belligerently Belles Lettristic Apologia for the Fine Art of Combining Words and Pictures in Caricature, Cartooning, and Illustration.”

Storr is described elsewhere as “an art world impresario,” and as a “curator, critic, painter, and writer.” He is described here as possessing a “singular vision and profound understanding of Robert Crumb.”

Although specifically thanked by the catalogue’s compiler in the back of the book for his essay, Storr’s opening line is, “This is not an essay.”

And he’s right. In fact, if I didn’t know how serious the art world takes everything, I’d swear this was a parody of an essay on Crumb. It rambles on and on and much of it comes across as just astonishingly pretentious. Using high-falutin’ words and phrases like “Opprobrium,” “Hegemony,” and “L’éternel féminin,” and constantly dropping names with which the average person—and possibly Crumb himself—would be unfamiliar, such as Pierro della Francesca, Öyvind Fahlström, or Clement Greenberg.

To be fair, Storr does from time to time light on some of the specific art found in the catalogue long enough to give at least a bit of context.

Before we even get to that art, however, we have to endure a section entitled, “A Few (Historical) influences.”

While these pieces—some of which date back to the 18^th Century—are mildly interesting, having seen Terry Zwigoff’s documentary, Crumb, and having transcribed a couple of interviews others have done with the man himself over the years, I can’t imagine that Robert Crumb ever even saw this stuff in his formative years.

The artist has always worn his influences on his sleeve—Terrytoons, Kurtzman’s Mad, funny animal comics, that hot girl that sat in front of him in the 8^th grade, big female butts, and an obvious dislike of pretentiousness. I’d love to know what Crumb thinks of Storr’s essay.

Eventually, on page 34, we get to the good stuff.

Although not really in chronological order, we start out with Crumb’s beloved Fritz the Cat, in 1962, followed by some early sketchbook (or lined notebook) pages of art or story. There are quite a few covers from Crumb’s prolific underground comix period, as well as some late 1950s collaborations with his brother Charles, and even, for some reason, covers by Moscoso, Spain, and Shelton.

There are a few complete stories including Crumb’s well-known 1989 assessment of the sleaziness of Donald Trump and one of his most serious pieces, “The Religious Experience of Philip K. Dick.”

There’s a little nudity here and there and some bodily fluids, but overall, the scope of Crumb’s much more explicit work is notably absent. In fact, many of his major pieces are not even touched on in either the non-essay or the art, leaving this a very hap-hazard collection indeed.

Of course, I remind myself that Crumb’s World is an exhibition catalogue.

It isn’t meant to be a full biography/history of the most controversial comic artist of all time. Taken on that level, if you attended the 2019 showing, this would be a nice souvenir. If you’ve only recently encountered the works of R. Crumb and just want a random sampling of his various styles, here it is. If you’re looking for the definitive Crumb book, this isn’t it.

A mild recommendation, just because it’s Crumb.