What follows is one of the many articles in the Mercury’s 2026 Fall Arts Issue. Find a print copy here, subscribe to get a copy mailed to you here, and if you’re feeling generous and want to keep these types of articles coming, support us here.—eds.
Don’t believe anyone who claims to “know” about art.
Like the bottom of the Mariana Trench or the contents of your boyfriend’s BAGGU crescent, art is unknowable. Art is meant to be felt in your gut, your balls, and in the hairs on the back of your neck. It should be processed through your spleen like a blood toxin, not through your brain like a problem to be solved. And while art is something that is universally enjoyed, it’s not something that everyone feels comfortable talking about. Art spaces—galleries, record stores, dance studios—are intimidating places for most. And much of that intimidation stems from the impenetrable vernacular and obscure social signaling used within these spaces. In short, no one wants to sound stupid.
I’m here to tell you it’s okay. When it comes to art, it’s all stupid—some people are just better at making their particular brand of stupid sound smart. Art discourse is smoke and mirrors, a dog and pony show grift run by undersexed grad students and the most heinous of article writers. As an efficacious purveyor of said grift, and as someone who has cultivated a meager name for themself swimming in the miasma of online art discourse, I am here to show you the way. Following these simple tricks will have you successfully rubbing elbows at even the snootiest of art galleries.
When describing a piece of art, use only emotional words. It’s easy to get bogged down in words like “composition” and “graphic density.” Any attempt to use actual art terms is testing your luck, as those are objective and someone could call you out for being incorrect. If you only describe how a piece makes you feel, you can never be wrong. “This piece harbors a deep sadness to it;” “this one’s really pissing me off;” “it reminds me of my awful bitch of a mother;” all great options and completely irrefutable. Everyone in every art scene is afraid of coming off as shallow, so I guarantee no one will challenge you for fear of being exposed as “not getting it.”
Pretend you’re 8 years old. What would you say about the work then? Have you ever been in an art museum at the same time as a group of kids? They don’t overthink their opinions on art, and neither should you. Art spaces are filled with elite-level around-the-bush beaters. Rise above the over-intellectualized nonsense. All you really need to do to confidently talk about art is say EXACTLY what you’re thinking—no filter. “It has pretty colors,” “it looks like a bird,” “it reminds me of a song in Roblox.” All valid art criticism.
Disagree with literally everything the person you’re talking to says. If they say it’s a lovely use of negative space, say it’s a cramped mess. If they say it’s a derivative bore, say it’s the most fascinating and unique piece you’ve ever seen in your life. These conversations are a contest. Win. The goal is to make an impression at these fancy art events, not make friends. Many self-professed “connoisseurs” you engage with will be operating under the pompous assumption that they are the smartest person in the room. Become the monster. The best defense is a good offense. You have to “out pretentious” the pretentious elite.
Make up words and concepts. The art world is full of deeply insecure people, and no one will call you out on this for fear of exposing their own ignorance. Call a piece “umbaculan in form,” or say that a particular body of work is “Jeremy Renner-esque.” The bigger the swing, the harder the impact. Absolutely dare those snobs to call you on your bullshit and if they do, laugh in their face as hard as you can, or turn to the rest of the group and say something vague and cutting, like “looks like SOMEONE hasn’t seen the Renner collection at the MOMA.”
Swipe your finger across the surface of a painting before sticking it in your mouth and declaring, “Yup, this one’s real.”
When in doubt, silently cry. There is a chance that you do everything listed above and still a handful of shrewd prigs may be unconvinced of your expertise. This is when you hit them with the waterworks. Surreptitiously rub some Vicks under your eyes, or show up to the event with a slice of onion tucked into your eyelid like an ocular ZYN. This option is great because it requires no actual talking. It’s a conversational hydrogen bomb. You are simply overcome with the emotional impact of the work, and if they aren’t, it’s because THEY don’t get it. Some may still press you to explain yourself. When they do, bust out the line, “This piece just brings up a lot of stuff from childhood for me”—absolutely lethal 100 percent of the time.
By now it should be no secret what I think of most art critics. The overeducated and insecure bourgeois who insist on making every interaction transactional. It’s no coincidence that the type of people who dominate popular discussions around art are rarely the type of people who create meaningful art themselves. The rich commodify expressions of joy and then tell you you’re too stupid to understand it anyway. At the end of the day, the inaccessibility of art discourse boils down to classism. Just like the stock market and the rules for that sport where they make horses dance, art has been intentionally obfuscated by the elite in order to keep poors like you and me away. It’s our right… nay, our duty as class rebels to pry back our godly bequest from the avaricious hands of the ruling class. Remember this as you stride willfully into the perilous halls of the art world. You are not an uneducated outsider scrambling to fit in, but a valorized crusader on the righteous quest to disrupt their aristocratic pedantry.
Go forth, and show no mercy.
Riley McCarthy is a stand up comic, and artist currently based in Portland. Their full schedule of stand up gigs can be found every month on Instagram @Rileycandunk.