The Scottish painter Jack Vettriano has died. He represented striking and convincing images of people and places on canvas with an economy of fluent brush strokes, much in the way that the best of the impressionists did, and his talent was obvious to anyone who cared to look. His pictures were compelling, attractive, enigmatic and fascinating, and had widespread appeal. All of which made him a figure of hate for the privileged elites of the art world.

The old saying ‘never speak ill of the dead’ is almost always followed by obituary writers; even when writing about politicians whose actions caused misery and destruction. Obituary writers will always find something nice to say, and gloss over the bad things they did in their lifetimes. It’s telling therefore that when writing an obituary article about Vettriano (in the Guardian), a man whose only crime (so far as we know) was to create beautiful paintings, the art critic Eddy Frankel couldn’t resist sticking the knife in. He compared Vettriano’s work to greasy fast food, and the only good thing he had to say about it was that a lot of other (for which read ‘common’) people liked it.

According to Frankel, Vettriano ‘lacked a conceptual edge’, and ‘didn’t have any post modern self-awareness’. Oh no! Vettriano’s biggest crime, the reason his work is apparently worth very little, is that it doesn’t carry ‘a message’ which, according to art world elites, is the very purpose of art. I believe I may have touched on this subject before in this blog. Indulge me if I slip into the vernacular for a moment, but that’s complete bollocks from stuck up twits who are so far up their own (and possibly each others’) backsides, it’s a wonder they haven’t done us all a favour and disappeared! The ‘messages’ in most contemporary artworks are facile, shallow, say nothing new, and would be better communicated in very short articles (probably in the Guardian). According to Frankel ‘the thing about modern art is you need to be smart to get it’ – the classic ‘Emperor’s new clothes’ put down to us plebs – if you don’t appreciate this, it isn’t because it’s no good, but because you’re too thick.

The ridiculous accusation against Vettriano is that he had nothing to say. Of course not. He was an artist. ‘Art for Art’s sake’ may be an old fashioned adage, but its veracity outlasts petty minded fashion. Art has, throughout history, been used to communicate messages – usually propaganda. But at its best, relieved of that burden, its true genius is in its ability to delight. Not just to present accurate representations of the world around us, but to create alternative visions, perhaps even to present the world as we would like it to be, rather than how it is.

I’m with William Morris – art should be beautiful, and Vettriano’s is. What kind of human being wants to look at ugly, poorly crafted artworks, simply because they carry some simple message we probably already know well enough, like ‘sex sells’, ‘money is power’ or ‘consumerism is ruining our world’? The best art makes the world a better, more attractive place, rather than dragging us down.

Vettriano was often accused of perpetuating sexist attitudes, because some of his works portray the sexual stereotypes of powerful men and sexily adorned, seductive women. This too is a shallow, unthinking assessment of one particular theme in his paintings. It’s written off as mere titillation, but to me, his more sexualised works, regardless of what the artist himself intended (if indeed he intended anything) do more than communicate a facile ‘message’. They make us think for ourselves; about traditional gender specific roles and the sexual interplay between men and women. Most are more thoughtful than a simple ‘here’s an attractive woman in sexy underwear’. They draw you in, make you wonder just what the ambiguous situation might be, what the characters you’re looking at are thinking. His world is an alternate universe of 1940’s style noir – something different to everyday life.

But more than that, he had an incredible talent for painting. The apparent simplicity of his style led the idiots who run the art industry to assume he wasn’t very good. But for anyone who’s ever done any painting, and found it hard, and who have actually thought deeply about how it works, it’s Vettriano’s astonishing ability for representing realism, and particularly the play of light and shade, with an economy of brushstrokes, that was his genius. There are actually very few artists who can do that (I wish I could!) His canvasses are vibrant and alive, and he had an eye for a great composition. So for a short while at least, could the narcissistic artistic elites please crawl back under their stones, and allow those of us who are more interested in appreciating great art than trying to make everyone else think we’re cleverer than them, mourn the loss of a great talent.