The visual artistic style of Extractionism, founded by the notorious cat Oscar Teabag-Dooven, is a bold new movement that has shaken the art world much like the invention of art itself. Unlike expressionism, impressionism, or any other "ism," extractionism isn't rooted in a particular school of thought or cultural era. It doesn't arise from radical social upheaval. Instead, it's a simplified form of painting – a "summarization" of scenes, a "posterization" of themes, or a "cartooning" of the world. Therefore, it could equally be called summarism, posterism, or cartoonsism. But it's not. It's extractionism because it extracts the essence of the subject and plops it on canvas without pretense of technical virtuosity. Thus, extractionism emerges from a deliberate disregard for traditional artistic skill.
In its purest form, extractionism features bold lines and basic colors drawn from its subject while intentionally ignoring detail. However, it also disregards deeper meaning. Extractionism doesn't aim to question the human condition or our place in the universe. Instead, it simply asks, "Isn't it pretty?" without seeking a profound answer. Extractionism has been described, perhaps unfairly, as "art for the stupid," "art for the desensitized," and "shit."
Is extractionism a genuine new movement? Or is it merely shallow art? Is it an excuse for substandard painting to be elevated to something more than a waste of paint?
We asked Sydney-based art critic and curator of the Sinkhole Art Gallery, Buen Rubenstein, for his insights.
"I remember it was a Tuesday at about three in the afternoon. I'd sat down at a cafe on Colchester Street and ordered a large strawberry doughnut and a cup of tea with extra soy. While I was waiting, my phone rang. I answered it, as this seemed a prudent thing to do. There was no answer, however, so I shrugged and put it back in my pocket. When my cup of tea arrived, my phone rang again. I answered it a second time, but again there was no answer. Returning the phone to my pocket, I waited for my strawberry doughnut to arrive, as it hadn't been brought with my cup of tea (an oversight the waiter apologized for despite my insistence there was no need). When my doughnut did arrive, my phone rang for a third time. It was only then I realized I must have dialed my phone with my arse."
Clearly, we should have been more specific about which insights we were after.
Nevertheless, you can see some examples of Dooven's extractionism here.