Amanda Palmer talks about the meaning of art while being awesome

I am fully aware that no one reads this anymore, but this is excellent, and if anyone happens to stumble across this little blog, I beg you, watch this please. 

Senses Capture

We've talked about art that's observable by sight and hearing, and the possibility of culinary art.  I wonder if, at any point in the future, we'll be creating and observing art that appeals primarily to the senses of smell and touch.  How would that even work?  Just an idle thought I had. 

Improv

Today, I was doing a monologue as Joan of Arc and got a friend to stand onstage with me and sentence me to death.  It was a performance, and while I had rehearsed, I had never rehearsed with him, and as far as I know, he didn't know the play.  As such, he had to improvise his actions and reactions.  In this particular monologue, Joan spends several lines begging for mercy, accusing her accusers of wickedness, and touting her own virtue.  When she sees that her accusers are unmoved, she changes her tack:
"Then, Joan, discover thy infirmity,
Which warranteth by law to be thy privilege:
I am with child, ye bloody homicides!"
I began that last line quietly, and increased volume until I was yelling the word "child" at my friend.  He was visibly startled: his upper body jerked back, his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.  A perfect reaction, and completely organic. 
What I'm wondering is this: do you think improv has a place under the heading of art?  Is it more of a craft?  Is it too closely related to simple, cut-and-dry life?  Does its close relation to everyday life keep it from being art?

Lines from Shakespeare's Henry VI, Part I

Culinary Arts

I recently tried a dish that a friend of mine made, consisting of vegetables and spices, which was completely covered in aluminum foil and cooked over a fire.  A simple recipe, but delicious and nutritious.  Is this art?  Does its simplicity keep it from being art?  Is it more likely to be art if my friend made up the recipe himself?  Or does the fact that its aesthetic value lies not in the way it looks or sounds, but in the way it tastes and smells, keep it from being art?  It was mentioned in class that the eyes and ears are more objective than the tongue, and that physical tastes are harder to gauge or judge (I forget the exact wording).  But what about acquired tastes? 

Having doubts

I don't know if I can do this.  I've been thinking about it since we talked about it on Monday, and I'm really not sure I can define art.  I realize I have another option, but I had already written a paragraph about how I define art prior to our class discussion.  It seems reasonably true, but I'm worried it's too inclusive.  I'm also worried that there are gaping holes in the logic that I can't or don't want to see.  So I read my paragraph and think about modifying it, taking into consideration what we came up with on Monday, but I'm a little short on space, and anyway, I don't see anywhere in my paragraph that I could open up to more thoughts/information. 
Question: Even if we have some of the pieces, some of the components that we can pretty much definitively say belong to art, is it better to just resist defining art?

To define or not to define art

...That is the question.  Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the possibility of radical inclusion or exclusion, or to take arms against the impulse to define such a slippery topic...

I'm trying to make up my mind.  I'd like to be able to say that I know exactly what art is now, but despite being better-informed, I feel that I'm not much more sure about the definition of art than I was when this class started.  My opinions haven't actually changed very much.

Where do they differ?  How have my thoughts about what makes art "art" evolved?  For one thing, I'm less inclined to bring value judgments into a definition.  Regardless of the level of mastery involved in creating a work, I can look at it and say whether or not it is art (whether or not I'm correct is another matter entirely).  I do feel, even though I am still not entirely assured of my abilities to define art, that I have a better basis for judging a work.  Now, when I look at a painting, I might think about childhood wishes being expressed, or intentionality, or even significant form.  My thoughts on the definition of art lean more toward the mechanics of the craft, I suppose.

Do you choose to define art?  How much of a choice is it?


Title/first paragraph paraphrased from Hamlet, Act III, Scene I.

What are we saying?

During the rehearsal process for The Taming of the Shrew, we were thinking a lot about the text and how we wanted to present it.  Generally speaking, we played up the humor to the fullest extent, and tried to make our characters come across in what we were saying.  Particular difficulties arose when we reached Kate's ending monologue.  The director had a vision for the end of the show that was not explicitly supported by the text, but we went ahead with it anyway.  Of the people I heard from after the shows, a few people understood the somewhat less simple ending we were trying to present, and a few were a bit angry because they did not understand.  I can't, and don't, blame them.

This situation, however, puts me in mind of Collingwood's statement about art existing only in the imagination.  The end result of the art was not what the cast presented onstage, because the process didn't stop there.  The end result was in the minds of the director, the actors, and the audience.  Depending on the person, the words sounded slightly different, the actions meant something slightly different.  That was where the work of art was.

I am content to accept this, but I have to wonder: how well can we gauge the success of a work of art if it really exists in the mind?

Response to Andrea

Andrea Whitney asked: "Why do we insist on trying to say art is good or bad?"

Well, I think as with anything, we want to try to uphold standards.  It is the same with food.  If you're hungry (and in college), a McDonald's burger or Kraft Mac & Cheese can serve as a meal.  It might not even taste unpleasant.  But neither compares in taste or nutrition to, say, a salad and home-cooked chili.  The former two are indeed food, and depending on your definition, may or may not be bad.  They are, however, pretty much at the other end of the spectrum from the latter two.  This is a personal judgment of quality.  As food feeds our bodies, art can feed our minds, and we should be able to recognize good art and bad art, even if others don't agree with our opinions on the matter.  Just because something qualifies as art, doesn't mean we should stop thinking about and questioning its quality. 

"Yesterday it was a six million dollar work of art, today it's a piece of junk!"
-Bones

Yes, I have been watching Bones, and I am currently watching an episode in which a body was found in a crushed car sculpture (constructed by putting the car through a compactor).  The scientists are temporarily forbidden from taking the sculpture apart to examine the remains, on the grounds that the sculpture is "an historic piece of art."  I found this interesting, considering the nature of this class.  This episode also raises the question of what qualifies an object as art.  The director of the studio in which the other, similarly constructed car sculptures are displayed requested the injunction; she is a "member of the artworld" and therefore "qualified" to confer the status of art on an object.  In this case, the intention of the artist, the director, and the people who came to see the artist's sculptures determined that the "sculptures" were indeed art.  Apart from being an episode of a crime show, this was also a commentary on what makes art, art.

Enigma

My freshman year, I went to the welcome fair and got one of those free trucker caps.  I chose the word "Enigma" to be airbrushed on the front.  Whenever I wore it, there was always someone who would point to my hat and say "That's so me."  At first I got annoyed--why couldn't I just wear my hat in peace?  But I suppose it is natural for people to want others to know that there is more to them than meets the eye.  It also ties into Adrian Piper's writing and our class discussion today.  Piper believes that performance art is more unique and valuable than other art forms because it is the only art form that actively involves people, who are each mysterious and unique individuals.  There will always be another layer to the art that observers cannot see, because there is always another layer to people that no one can see.

Does this not apply to other art forms as well?  Why or why not?

Theatre is...

The director of the play I was in told us something that I thought was interesting/important to this class.  Before our last show, she said "Theatre is the only living, breathing art form."  This is getting specific--performance of any kind really falls under this umbrella.  But I think that that's true.  You can set down a painting or a poem and it's still art, whether or not you're doing anything with it.  You can compose a symphony, or write a play, and it will be there as long as the paper it is printed on is not destroyed.  But acting and playing an instrument require your breath, your body, your mind.  These are forms of art that cannot live on their own--they need someone to actively participate.

Are there other art forms that could be described as "living" or "breathing?"

Answer to Brycen's Question

Brycen asked: "If art has such a deep meaning, how can some people look at a painting and know exactly what it is trying to convey?"
My first reaction is, do they really know, or do they just think they do?  It might seem perfectly clear to someone what a painting or other work of art signifies, but they might just be projecting their own feelings and experiences onto the work.  On the other hand, they might recognize the symbols being used by the artist and actually understand the work.  Of course, the exact wording of the question changes the answer.  I'm not sure it's possible to know exactly what the artist was trying to convey unless the observer knows the artist and what he or she was thinking at the time the art was created.

Response to Gina: Journey or Final Destination?

Gina asked, "Is art about the journey more than the final destination?"  I think the answer to this depends on who is being asked. 
Ask the actor, and she will say that it is about both, but more about the journey.  She works for weeks/months delving into the depths of a character's psyche, reading and rereading the play, picking apart her character's lines, determining her motivations, exploring nuances of tone and gesture.  Ask the choreographer, and he will give a similar answer.  Every movement he invents or selects is carefully chosen to express a song, theme, story or emotion.  Ask the author and she will tell you about the revision process.  Ask the director and he may tell you about the scenes on the cutting room floor.  Ask the visual artist and she will talk about all of the initial ideas that led to her masterpiece.  The process is often carried out with an end result in mind, but the process itself is the important part.
Ask the observer, and he will tell you that the final destination, the finished product, is the only thing of importance that he can see. 
None of them are wrong (though I might be).

Response to Samantha: Limits of Perception

In her last blog entry, Samantha Chase asks several intriguing questions. 
"Does every piece of art have the ability to elicit many perceptions based on the viewer?"
I would say yes.  Whether a piece of art is classical or modern and abstract, there are aspects and hints that can mean different things to different people.  Whether or not the artist intended to elicit these various perceptions in her audience doesn't matter; people are individuals who think subjectively as well as objectively and it is entirely possible for us to arrive at different conclusions regarding part or all of a piece of art.
"Can art encompass multiple qualities, some of which can only be seen by the 'educated,' 'experienced,' or perceptually aware?"
Again, I think the answer is yes, depending on how complex the artist intended the end result to be, as well as what was going on the artist's life/mind at the time the art was being produced.  In the case of intended complexity, there can be symbolism that is seen and recognized by the general public as well as the elite.  More complex symbolism may be more likely to be interpreted correctly by the educated.  In the case of unintended qualities in a piece of art, these may be recognized by anyone who relates to the artist's state of mind or is going through a situation similar to the one in which the artist was involved.
"Is the is of artistic identification a set point?  Or is it what it is to who is experiencing it?"
I would say that it is a set point; that's what we're trying to get at in this class, isn't it?  A set definition of art, a way to say, "That, regardless of whether or not I like it or what I perceive in it, is art?"  But I think there will always be ways of interpreting or looking at a piece of art, other than the one accepted by "the artworld."

Which brings me to a question of my own: Who makes up the artworld?

"As I please, in words."

This is part of a line belonging to Katharina from Shakespeare's "The Taming of the Shrew."  The full excerpt is typed out in the "About Me" on the side of this page.  I've been saying these lines to myself, to my director, and to my fellow actors for a couple of months now, and I've had a while to think about them.  Theatre is an interesting thing; it's an art form collaborated upon by both a writer and a performer, and the writer might have done his part in the endeavor hundreds of years before the performer even exists.  I have to wonder what Shakespeare was thinking when he wrote these words.  "The Taming of the Shrew" is a fairly controversial play nowadays, and is often seen as antifeminist.  The text certainly seems to point to that, but then why would Katharina, or Kate, have so much potential to be such a rich character?  The people around her dismiss her as a shrew, but is that all there is to the play and the character?  She is outspoken and brash and quick-witted, doesn't let anyone keep her down, at least until Petruchio enters the scene.  There are a few ways to play out this character arc.  One: Petruchio succeeds in "taming" her, and she is forever obedient.  Two: He holds no sway over her by the end of the play, and her entire ending monologue (with lines like "A woman moved is like a fountain troubled/ Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty" and "And place your hand below your husband's foot") is delivered with palpable sarcasm.  Three: She truly loves her husband by the end, but she hasn't necessarily been "tamed" and is still her own person.  This last one especially may be just a modern construct sewn up with wishful thinking, but the potential is there.  Whether or not Shakespeare meant Kate to be tamed by the end of the play, whether or not he was "that sexist" (as I've heard someone say), the potential is there for her to keep her strength and fire.  The words are the frame, but the performer and director don't have to mind the edges.  An individual performance can fill the space provided in countless subtle ways and even twine around the framework itself.  Thus, theatre is a true collaboration, though one of the collaborators doesn't always know where it ends up.

This is not art

I've noticed that a lot of the time in class, we tend to use the terms "art" and "painting" interchangeably, as in "If that painting is used as a rug, is it still a painting?"  Sorry if I'm being too picky here, but I just wanted to define painting as being separate from art.  A painting is an image set down on some surface in paint that is presumably intended to be art; it is not necessarily art.  So the aforementioned example sentence might read, "If that painting is used as a rug, can it still be art?"
It occurs to me now, though, that the example sentence I chose is not the best.  Goodman places high emphasis on identifying things by their function, and if a painting is spread on the floor for people to walk on at their discretion, perhaps he doesn't care whether or not it is an image set down on some surface in paint.  Perhaps the materials used to make it are irrelevent compared with its new function, and he would stop calling it a painting and start calling it a rug.
Have I written in a circle here?  Maybe.  I still want to stay away from assuming that painting = art.
But what do you think?  Do you think that the function of an object outweighs not only the preconceived notions attached to that object, but also the materials that make up that object?

Representation/Exemplification

Goodman claims that there is a difference between representation and exemplification.  What is this difference? 
The difference is in how the material is presented.  A representation involves conveying something more directly, while exemplification offers a more abstract conveyance.  So something like this:

would be considered representation, while this:

would be closer to exemplification. 
And because I just can't leave it alone, I'm bringing "Ashes" back into this.  The expression on the woman's face is a representation of distress, as is the man's pose, to an extent.  The barren trees in the background and drab colors are an exemplification of distress.
But as to the second image in this post, do you think that this is a good exemplification of sadness?  The less direct approach of exemplification, after all, has the side effect of being possibly misinterpreted.  The artist may have intended to convey sadness, but I also see loneliness. 
Which do you think is more valuable/effective, representation or exemplification?

Second image: sadness by zaana on deviantart.com

Distractions

I think I could call myself an expert on distraction (I'm presumptuous like that).  Right now I'm staring at a gorgeous desktop background on a friend's computer and listening to energetic music.  I have eight tabs open in Internet Explorer, plus iTunes, email, and two assignments in Word.  I am constantly clicking between this window, Facebook, and Youtube to see what song is playing at any given moment (right now it's Tattoos Fade by World/Inferno Friendship Society).  I am young, sleep-deprived, and probably self-absorbed.  I would be considered rather unfit to judge art by Hume's standards.  However, I actually enjoy many works that are accepted by the art world.  I suppose that means I'm not entirely beyond hope.  But I suppose anyone who listens to, say, Lady Gaga (to go off a common class theme) would be considered too distracted.  It doesn't matter what a person "does right," if they like something "frivolous," there is something wrong with their judgment.  I wonder whether or not Hume ever liked any (art)works that another critic considered frivolous.

Mystery: Response to Brycen

Brycen recently asked whether people are so attracted to art because it is mysterious without a definition.  I'm not sure that that's the only reason people are attracted to art, but it's an interesting thought.  An air of mystery is usually seen as an attractive quality in general.  I hate to seem like I'm saying the same thing two entries in a row, but I think Edvard Munch's painting, Ashes, has a beautiful quality of mystery to it.  What is the source of the figures' distress?  What happened before this scene?  When I look at this image, I take in the picture as a whole, and then the details, and my mind starts trying to answer the questions it asks.  I want to know the artist's intention, but I also want to keep it a mystery.  There is a part of me, I think, that wants to fill in the blanks myself; there is a part of me that cannot help doing just that.  Maybe that is why people are attracted to art: the mystery seems to leave room for the observer to see herself in the artwork. 
Do you think people enjoy art more when they can relate to it?

Objective and Subjective

I want to discuss objective and subjective qualities in art; to do that, I'll use one of my favorite paintings, Ashes by Edvard Munch, as an example.

Some objective qualities of this painting:

• Relatively drab color scheme
• Depicts two people, a man and a woman
• Forest background
• The man is painted in mostly blacks and grays, while the woman is mostly painted in a yellowish skin tone, light brown, red, and white

These are easily observable qualities, that could probably come under fire only if others wish to dispute the specific shades of color used.

Some subjective qualities I observe:

• Both figures appear to be distressed.
• The contrasting color schemes of the two figures illustrate the emotional distance between them.
• The unnatural colors of the forest add to the sense of isolation
• The strong outlines confine each of the figures and trees.

These are all qualities that I think contribute greatly to making a case for this painting being a work of art.  However, while they are based on components of the painting, they are only my opinions.   Others may share them, but it is only because we happen to perceive the lines and colors and shapes in the same way.  This is what Hume means when he talks about beauty relying entirely upon the sensory organs of the observer.

Image from http://www.edvard-munch.com/gallery/love/ashes.htm

Abandoning hope?

Weitz's application of Wittgenstein's concept of family relations, while a little too easy too accept, is still tempting.  Consider an actor performing Othello's monologue from Act 5, Scene 2 ("It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul").  His artistry lies in the way he chooses to move or not to move, on the words he stresses, on whether he portrays the character as visibly sorrowful or coldly resigned.  His is an audiovisual art form.  The speech itself is another work of art, and though it uses the same text, the two are completely different.  Shakespeare created his art through words, paying close attention to the meter of lines.  The actor might entirely ignore the meter, might play the role in a completely different way from the first Othello.  So these two works of art both include the use of words and convey some emotion.  However, many works of art use no words.  So we are left with communication of emotion as a common trait.  Consider a third work of art: perhaps a still life of a bowl of fruit.  Perhaps no clear emotion is being conveyed by this painting (perhaps the emotion is present, but not immediately apparent).  The most specific link between these three works is creativity--I know I keep talking about it, but I feel as though I'm on to something and I'm going to hold on to it. 
What else do these works share?  Or is Weitz correct?

Create

"Creativity" comes from the word "create," whose root is the Latin root "cre-" which means "to make." Creativity starts with the basic level of constructing, shaping, forming.  It is at the very foundation of a work of art.  An artist can exercise creativity at every stage of the artistic process; even when doing something procedural, like mixing up plaster, the artist may add another step or ingredient that is exclusive to her and her style.  When in the finishing touches or editing stage, the artist tries to improve her work by tweaking the details until she is satisfied with the result, making it as strange, beautiful, disturbing, unique as she deems fit. 
"Creativity" can also be linked to "Creation," as in that of a higher power.  I am not trying to discuss religion here.  But it could be said that artists are like gods, bringing their creations to life, making their art in their own images with their own personal style.
Creativity is vital to art.  What role do you think it plays in other areas of life?

Hope for a definition

Weitz looks at art the same way that Wittgenstein looks at language, that is, in terms of "family relationships."  They say that these categories have no solidly defining traits, that there is no one trait or set of traits that links the parts of these categories.  Instead, they say, the components of these categories are linked by family relationships.
I find it tempting to accept this explanation--we haven't collectively come up with a definition of art yet, and all of the different essays argue rather different and sometimes conflicting points (with varying degrees of finesse).  Maybe there isn't even one trait that all works of art share.  With all of art's categories and subcategories, it is easy to be overwhelmed.  However, it seems that art should have a definition, otherwise it becomes this unexplainable force, something practically omnipotent. 
To some, like Bell, it may well be omnipotent.  To others, like Dewey, it may be ordinary but also the work of a Creator or nature itself.  But I think that, while that art is undeniably powerful, it is not beyond our grasp. 

This post brought to you by graffiti

In the women's restroom on the lowest level of Venable, there is some somewhat unusual graffiti (along with the standard "I <3 Jim H.," etc).  On one of the walls is written the line, "To Avalon we line the streets."  I was always a bit intrigued by this, figuring it was a quote but not knowing what the quote was from.  Maybe some epic tale or poem?  No.  Not really.
It's actually from the Hanson song "Lay Me Down."
I admit, when I Googled the line, I didn't expect to come up with that.  Having spent many of my formative years listening to my parents' favorite lite rock station, I didn't know much popular music as a kid.  I didn't think this was a typical line for pop songs, though.  I have to wonder whether or not that line was an organic part of the song-writing process, or if whoever wrote the song put it in afterwards because it sounded cool.  Maybe they'd always wanted to use the line and didn't know where else they could put it.  I guess it's a silly subject for a blog post, particularly since I'm not sure where most pop music fits under the umbrella of art, but it made me think, so I thought I'd share.

Importance of the Superego

Sean Glennon asked this question: Does the child need to have their superego to be intentionally creating art?

Well, the superego is just another way of saying the part of the mind reserved for higher thought.  I would say that in order to create something like a drawing, only the ego is needed.  Putting down marks on a paper requires no higher thought, only conscious thought and motor functions.  What differentiates that from intentional art is another level of processing thoughts and emotions.  No matter what you call it, yes, the superego is needed for the intentional creation of art.

Is there any art in which the id is obviously celebrated, instead of being disguised?

What is art which doesn't have any intended emotion?

This question was posed by Natalie Pozzetti.

Personally, I think that all art conveys some sort of emotion.  The artist may or may not intend to instill a specific emotion in those experiencing the art, but all real art stems from emotion.  Say for example that I created an abstract painting, consisting of swirling, curving lines in various shades of green.  When I painted this, I was feeling refreshed, although I want to know what others get out of it.  Someone looking at the painting might feel a sense of curiosity.  Someone else might see hope.  Although I created the painting while feeling "refreshed," I didn't necessarily want everyone who looked at the painting to feel the same way.  I think it's okay to make art that is open to interpretation.


Question: What do you think about the role of religious art?

Catharsis

Tolstoy defines art as something born from an artist's recalling an emotion, which communicates that emotion to a second party.  Sometimes a second party looks at/listens to/watches/etc. art in order to feel an emotion other than the one she is feeling.  For example, she might watch a funny movie to cheer herself up.  But sometimes, "improving" a mood by not allowing a "bad mood" to exist doesn't work.  Sometimes you just need to feel whatever it is you're feeling. 
I'm a big believer in catharsis, and art's role in the process.  Some people might say that I like to wallow in sadness, but that's not all there is to it.  People are able to feel a terrible, beautiful, wide range of emotion, so why should we try to pretend otherwise?  I'm not saying I'm going to go around crying at people whenever I'm having a bad day, but if I'm sad, I want to be able to sit somewhere quiet and listen to sad music.  I've heard that sad music helps someone who's feeling sad because someone (the musician) has it worse off (and maybe for some what really helps is schadenfreude), but I think that the key is the ability to relate to another human being on an emotional level.
This is a favorite song of mine (and the video is rather nice, too):

What emotion(s) do you get from it?

Video: "Samson" by Regina Spektor, from Youtube

Art as Propaganda

This was mentioned in our last class, and I thought it would make a good blog topic.

What goes into the making of propagandized art?  What makes this:

like this:

and this:


Although the first poster is about enlisting in the U.S. Army, the second is about factory jobs for women, and the third is about voting for the President, these all have the same general aim: to persuade.  Propaganda posters are plain-spoken because they have an agenda, and there should be no confusion as to what the artist (or whoever is in charge of the image) wants you to do.

Propaganda art has the same general style of bold images and simple color schemes.  Poster #1 employs a blue-black color scheme for the main image with hints of yellow for a forboding tone in its demonization of Germany.  The orange letters almost come off the page.  Poster #2 makes use of primary colors and the image of a strong woman.  The sentence "We Can Do It" is vague and empowering, encouraging women to take (dangerous) factory jobs.  The third is obviously more modern, but it sticks to the retro style of earlier propaganda posters.  The Americana theme is bold but softened by the use of ecru instead of white, modern but still sticking to the "traditional values" of the U.S.  Obama's solemn face over the, again, vaguely encouraging "Change" makes it seem as though the then-candidate is looking toward a better future.

These posters are effective in achieving their goals, but are they really art?

Poster sources: http://www.gwennseemel.com/index.php/blog/comments/propaganda/
http://www.smartshanghai.com/blog/712/Propaganda_Posters_Are_Art_Again_shanghai

Wheels and Other Inventions

The topic of this post comes from a question posed by Brycen Waters: "What about objects that were the first of their kind to be created, for example the wheel?  How do they follow the same logic as through the Platonic metaphysics of the imitation of an imitation?"

First, by Plato's logic, everything that has ever existed, now exists, and will ever exist is an imitation of a Form.  So in the Realm of Forms--or Ideas--there is the Form or essence of a wheel, a radio, a polygraph, a roller skate, a school, a tennis ball, etc.  I think Plato thought of the Realm of Forms as constantly accessible, and the Forms in it were/are (for any modern-day Platonists) fair game as models of any and all new inventions.

Following this logic, assume that the Realm of Forms contains the Form of a roller skate, an invention not around in Plato's day.  The inventor of the roller skate (who About.com simply gives as "an unknown Dutchman") drew on that Form and imitated it.  An artist could then imitate the roller skate as it exists in the material world, resulting in an imitation of an imitation.

However, that artist might also be able to directly imitate the Form of a roller skate, which is where Plato's definition of art might not entirely hold up.

Question: Even if an artist models his creation on the Form of an object, is that creation still equal to something made for its function rather than for its form (lowercase "f")?

Info on roller skates found at: http://inventors.about.com/od/rstartinventions/a/rolle_skates.htm

Why are we on such a mission to define art?

The topic of this post comes from Andrea Whitney's blog.

There are several ways I could answer this question, not all of them entirely serious.  Just to get it out of my system, a sarcastic answer: "Because we are academic snobs."  And another: "Because we have nothing better to do than crush fake artists' hopes and dreams" (no, humor was not my intent, I'm just terribly immature sometimes).

Now, on the more serious side, I think we feel the need to define art in part because we are hungry for both standards and truth.  So many things today are carelessly classified as art, and surely not all of it can fit into this category.  Sometimes the label "art" is given as a matter of convenience.  If you wanted to encompass drawings, paintings, music, poetry, and fiction (just a short list) under one label, chances are you would classify it as art.  But is all of it really art?  Maybe the two paintings in my previous post belong to the same category, but what about a child's stick figure drawing?  What about ancient pottery created for function more than form, sitting behind glass in art museums?  What about photomanipulation?  Where do we draw the line between art and non-art?  Shouldn't there be a line somewhere?

Even apart from having some sort of cut-off point that separates art from non-art, we want to know where that point is (at least, I do).  I want this knowledge for selfish reasons: I want to be respected in the art world, I want to look like I know what I'm talking about, and I want to know for my own peace of mind.  Having a question like this posed, and being unable to answer it, is maddening.  I think as humans (although maybe this isn't the right class to discuss it) we want to know the truth, even if we don't always tell the truth.  I think we feel the need to learn and grow and know more than we did yesterday, and this is one more thing for us to ponder.

My question: going back to an earlier point in this post, where does photomanipulation fit into art, if at all?

Is art a thing of the past?

In one of the sections of the introduction to the textbook, Wartenberg asks, "Is Contemporary Art Still Art?"  He goes on to quote the character Marc from the Yasmina Reza play, Art, who speaks of contemporary art's rules of "novelty" and "surprise."  True, not every painting done today is in the contemporary style, which does not seem to represent anything more solid than a thought or emotion.  Perhaps my title is unnecessarily sensational (sorry).
For example, look at this Caravaggio painting, The Conversion of St. Paul.

And then, this painting by Steven Stone, Marea:

The first image obviously depicts a scene, complete with three-dimensional perspective and dramatic areas of light and shadow.  The second is rather abstract--colorful and comprised of shapes and lines reminiscent of a collage, but the subject is not clear.  Does the Caravaggio qualify as art more so than the Steven Stone painting (or vice versa)?

This brings me to my question: What kind of role does representation play in the classification of art?


Images: http://www.albany.edu/scj/jcjpc/figures/st-paul.jpg
http://tedmikulski.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/1_front.jpg