Introduction
2022 was a great year in comedy. After the two-year shit show that was the pandemic response, I was ready to laugh again. For me, the year actually started in December 2021 when I saw Main Mommy Christina P in San Antonio—with a broken toe. But I was determined! So we trekked down south and I hobbled my way through the LOL Comedy Club with a skull-topped cane in hand. And I was howling by the end of the night! Laughter is, after all, the best medicine.
Booze can help too sometimes.
But I kept things local for the actual 2022 year. Starting with Tommy Bunz aka Tom Segura in January, I proceeded to laugh my ass off the rest of the year after seeing the great and powerful Joe Rogan (twice), along with Mark Normand, Jessica Kirson, Brian Simpson, and ol’ freckles himself—Bill FUCKING Burr.
We were supposed to end the year by seeing Ari Shafirr in December but a certain someone in my life shit all over those plans (I still love you though).
And there are plenty more awesome acts on the horizon for 2023! The year already started off with a bang after seeing Tony Hinchcliffe, Chris Estrada, and Sam Morril in January alone. I just saw Shane Gillis last weekend and Steph Tolev last night. Now that bitch is hilarious. I also got Christina P (again!) and Donnal Rawlings coming up soon too so far. Needless to say, I’ve been a little obsessive in my pursuit to laugh. But all this comedic name-dropping is just my long-winded way of saying that I love stand-up comedy—and comedy and humor in general.
As an expression of humor, the art of comedy often comes from a place of darkness, pain, and apprehension. And that’s part of the appeal. Comedy and tragedy go hand in hand. Finding humor in a sea of disaster while uncovering some kernel of truth is what it’s all about. Comedy can be contentious and provocative, yet moving and therapeutic all at the same time. Laughter helps us cope with the absurdities of everyday life. It’s also involuntary—making comedy one of the most honest forms of art. It certainly has gotten me through the last couple years of madness.
So I stand by the title: I wanna laugh. Inside joke for all the YMH Mommies out there.
And as you may already know, I also love studying the history of art. While humor may be fundamental to the human experience, the study of visual humor has largely been ignored by art history scholars. It’s not surprising considering the “serious” and often pretentious nature of the art world—but that’s why I’m here! Your source for stupidly good art history lessons.
Obviously, verbal and visual humor have their differences. While verbal humor is all about timing, usually consisting of stories or observations told bit-by-bit with a punch line at the end, visual humor spills it all at once—and even then it might not always be as apparent as a comedian killing it on stage.
But I’ve always been drawn to art that makes me laugh, whether it’s from Marcel Duchamp, Claes Oldenburg, or Jeff Koons and his oh-so-tasteful pornographic aspirations. As I’ve been delving deeper into the world of comedy and humor, I’ve also been asking myself a couple of questions lately as it pertains to this history of art:
- Where did visual humor in art start and where is it now?
- What was the first visual representation of comedy?
- And how can I entwine these two subjects that I hold so dear?
The “plan”
For the unforeseeable future, the plan is to write about the history of humor in art. But in order to contain this beast, I’m going to focus my research on the visual humor of the Western world, primarily visual arts from the Americas and Europe (for now).
I’ll explore art throughout the centuries that has the potential to make you laugh, but most importantly—art that has the potential to make you think. From comic imagery on ancient Greek vase paintings to Pieter Bruegel’s satiric drawings on the follies of 16th-century Dutch culture to Marcel Duchamp’s literal toilet humor to Banksy’s subversive political messages on the streets around the world in recent memory.
When I say “humor”, I’m talking about whatever the hell makes you laugh. It can be through the use of irony, witticism, satire, dark humor, wordplay, or whatever other type of humor the artist feels is necessary to get their point across, whatever that point may be.
I haven’t exactly “planned” how often I’ll crank these suckers out (and by “suckers”, I mean thoroughly researched, high-quality art historical writings with a twist), as the history of humor for all Western art is actually quite a long stretch of time.
This writing project could take me years for all I know, and that’s completely fine. I’ve got time. I’m looking to publish a couple posts of my research on the history of humor in art this year, starting with the ancient world and moving forward as I see fit. You’ll just have to stay tuned, dear reader(s). I’m so sure you’re sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation (and that’s what we call sarcasm).
I might write other art history-related writings in between, but for now—I wanna laugh.
Mariza Morin 