Recently I came across a rather heated and sarcastic debate about art on a discussion board. The question was, “Is this Art” and the photo that followed was of two rather large hearts (literally) encapsulated in two large specimen jars. The vast majority of respondents said "no" this is not art. The debate went all the way to considering the value, or lack there of, of non-representational art. I’d like to share my response to this argument and ask what you think, thanks.
I’ll begin by commenting on the initial photograph and question, which by the way was a brilliant way to evoke such a debate. I say this not only because of the subject of the photograph but also because of the lack of a contextual description. This lack of information in itself causes us to attempt definitions for art. It seems that the majority of responses are leaning toward the “this is not art” position. Maybe it is, maybe it is not. Perhaps this is simply a photograph taken at some anonymous school or abandoned laboratory where these two classroom specimens were left behind and when the new tenants purchased the property they took a shot of these jars sitting on a table.
Nevertheless, let us assume, if only for arguments sake, that this was a created installation at some notable gallery in New York. If this were the case, I would automatically try to attach some sort of meaning to the piece, especially if an artist statement about the piece was absent. What would my reaction be? Eeeewwww, disgusting, just as most people; even those who would pretend to be contemplating the importance of the piece without being affected by the gross-out factor. However, once I move past this initial response, which by the way made me stop and look, a vital component to any piece of art, I might see something other than what is in front of me. Like what, you say? Perhaps the installation is an attempt to express the artists despair over a horrible love affair gone wrong. Two hearts, forever dead, floating through their confined little world, never to be alive again, eternally separated. Even the world outside of the jars is dilapidated and cold, just as one who has suffered great loss might see it. Does my understanding of love and loss, and the fact this artist rendering caused me to see how powerful this loss can be, automatically create a value to the installation? Let me clarify that I’m not advocating an all encompassing value for shock pieces or other similar work because I do believe that there is plenty of crap out their, such as enema art (pun intended). I am however a believer in the connection between the artist, the art, and the viewer, even if the connection is not purposely sought after by the artist.
Now, I know that I’ve taken up quite a bit of space here and I surely don’t want to bore anyone but I have to comment on Daz Cox’s thoughts about non-representational art. The comment that says that this type of art is for the people who can’t draw is a little narrow, sorry. Learning to draw is purely technique, granted there are those who develop their technique into a notable style and create fantastic pieces, but it is still purely technique. Once you learn the importance of elements such as the vanishing point, chiaroscuro, stippling, cross-hatching, etc., and you develop the ability to use these devices effectively then you too can be an artist! Don’t get me wrong, once again I’m not implying that there is no artistic value in the ability to draw, on the contrary, there are magnificent examples everywhere. What I am saying though, is that this ability is no more valuable than ability to create a moving piece of non-representation art. Sorry, but Pollock’s work was, and still is fantastic. It was mentioned that an assembly line could be created that would reproduce his “drip paintings” and, along with some serious sarcasm, they would then become “unique…pieces”. I beg to differ, for two reasons. First, although an assembly line could be programmed to create drip paintings they would be anything but unique in that after the first was completed, then all of the rest would be identical. Wait! You say, you could reprogram and make slight adjustments to make each piece unique. Yes, each piece would need to be carefully and meticulously gone over so as not to copy the same movement as the previous one…which leads me to my second thought on the subject, who’s doing the programming to ensure this uniqueness? An artist? No assembly line ever created (not yet at least) has the ability to ascertain the composition, the palette, or the movement itself, that takes vision, the vision of someone who wants to create. To say that non-representational art has no real value is to lack understanding. What can possibly be more difficult to create something from nothing? To take nothing but an emotion, or a desire to create a unique texture, or whatever the artist chooses, without any real-world representation and create something that produces a curiosity as to method, or a feeling of pleasure, is exponentially interesting, difficult, and valuable. A friend once said to me a similar argument as yours. She said, “Anybody can do that kind of art.” I said, “Oh, yeah? Let’s see.” I gave her a piece of canvas, some paint, and challenged her to create a piece and this is what she made:
Nevertheless, let us assume, if only for arguments sake, that this was a created installation at some notable gallery in New York. If this were the case, I would automatically try to attach some sort of meaning to the piece, especially if an artist statement about the piece was absent. What would my reaction be? Eeeewwww, disgusting, just as most people; even those who would pretend to be contemplating the importance of the piece without being affected by the gross-out factor. However, once I move past this initial response, which by the way made me stop and look, a vital component to any piece of art, I might see something other than what is in front of me. Like what, you say? Perhaps the installation is an attempt to express the artists despair over a horrible love affair gone wrong. Two hearts, forever dead, floating through their confined little world, never to be alive again, eternally separated. Even the world outside of the jars is dilapidated and cold, just as one who has suffered great loss might see it. Does my understanding of love and loss, and the fact this artist rendering caused me to see how powerful this loss can be, automatically create a value to the installation? Let me clarify that I’m not advocating an all encompassing value for shock pieces or other similar work because I do believe that there is plenty of crap out their, such as enema art (pun intended). I am however a believer in the connection between the artist, the art, and the viewer, even if the connection is not purposely sought after by the artist.
Now, I know that I’ve taken up quite a bit of space here and I surely don’t want to bore anyone but I have to comment on Daz Cox’s thoughts about non-representational art. The comment that says that this type of art is for the people who can’t draw is a little narrow, sorry. Learning to draw is purely technique, granted there are those who develop their technique into a notable style and create fantastic pieces, but it is still purely technique. Once you learn the importance of elements such as the vanishing point, chiaroscuro, stippling, cross-hatching, etc., and you develop the ability to use these devices effectively then you too can be an artist! Don’t get me wrong, once again I’m not implying that there is no artistic value in the ability to draw, on the contrary, there are magnificent examples everywhere. What I am saying though, is that this ability is no more valuable than ability to create a moving piece of non-representation art. Sorry, but Pollock’s work was, and still is fantastic. It was mentioned that an assembly line could be created that would reproduce his “drip paintings” and, along with some serious sarcasm, they would then become “unique…pieces”. I beg to differ, for two reasons. First, although an assembly line could be programmed to create drip paintings they would be anything but unique in that after the first was completed, then all of the rest would be identical. Wait! You say, you could reprogram and make slight adjustments to make each piece unique. Yes, each piece would need to be carefully and meticulously gone over so as not to copy the same movement as the previous one…which leads me to my second thought on the subject, who’s doing the programming to ensure this uniqueness? An artist? No assembly line ever created (not yet at least) has the ability to ascertain the composition, the palette, or the movement itself, that takes vision, the vision of someone who wants to create. To say that non-representational art has no real value is to lack understanding. What can possibly be more difficult to create something from nothing? To take nothing but an emotion, or a desire to create a unique texture, or whatever the artist chooses, without any real-world representation and create something that produces a curiosity as to method, or a feeling of pleasure, is exponentially interesting, difficult, and valuable. A friend once said to me a similar argument as yours. She said, “Anybody can do that kind of art.” I said, “Oh, yeah? Let’s see.” I gave her a piece of canvas, some paint, and challenged her to create a piece and this is what she made: