The Jennifer Lopez brand has had a bumpy time lately. Her "Bennifer" romance with Ben Affleck was Cupid's idea of a practical joke, her film career has foundered and her pop profile risks being overshadowed by younger rivals such as Beyoncé.
"It was," as she said in a recent interview, "time to rejuvenate." So now she's back with a new album, Rebirth, which might as well be titled Product Relaunch, for la Lopez is more a one-woman leisure conglomerate than a mere pop star.
You can dress yourself in clothes she's designed. You can dab yourself with her perfumes. You can marvel at her variety of personae (she's currently marketing herself as "Jennifer Lopez", having ditched the more frivolous "Jenny from the block" and "J.Lo"). And of course you can see her on screen or buy her CDs: the core products of Lopez, Inc.
It's an impressive display of business acumen, although you wouldn't know it from hearing her in interviews. "I'm not the kind of person who does it for the bucks, I do it because I love to create things," she announced recently of her portfolio of interests. Discussing her new album, she struck a Picasso-like note: "There were times when my life was like a rollercoaster ride, but as an artist, you need time for clarity."
An artist? Jennifer Lopez? Well, maybe a performing artist, or an artiste, but that's not what she means. Instead she lays claim to some higher level of art, a status pop stars often like to ascribe to themselves. Madonna, for instance, once said she hated the term "pop star", explaining: "I think of myself as a performance artist." Britney Spears, talking about her changes in image - ie ever skimpier costumes - said: "I get to direct my shows, and come up with different outfits. It's like being an art director. It's called being an artist."
It also applies to the way pop stars talk about each other. Stevie Wonder, defending Eminem in the early days of his notoriety, described the rapper as a "valid artist". Elton John, apologising for claiming that Madonna was among those who lip-synched her vocals on tour, said: "I don't want to hurt any artist's feelings - it applies to all those bloody teenage singers." Like the artist called Britney presumably.
Prince helped to popularise the term when he adopted a squiggle as his name and became known as "The Artist". Now pop stars use it with ever greater degrees of preciousness and phoney prestige. It's as if they want to deny pop music's vibrancy and life by associating it with high culture.
No wonder Bob Dylan, who has an ambivalent relationship to the high-art claims made on his behalf, is feeling disillusioned. In his programme notes for the latest leg of his American tour, beginning next week, he writes: "I wouldn't even think about playing music if I was born in these times . . . I'd probably turn to something like mathematics. That would interest me. Architecture would interest me. Something like that."
But there's hope yet for Jennifer Lopez. "Making money is art and working is art and good business is the best art," Andy Warhol reckoned. If he was right, Lopez is a true artist after all - albeit one in denial about the basis of her art.
