Is It Time to Re-Redefine "Art"?

The Wall Street Journal's Arena section for 9 April had this article by Kelly Crow about the new home of New York City's Whitney Museum. I gather that some artists, presumably those of the Installation Art ilk, will be allowed to pound nails in floors along with other tasks while setting up their exhibits.

Which brought to mind that I'm not inclined to purposefully view any kind of Installation Art. Matter of fact, I do not consider Installation Art to be art at all. Nor most (all?) of what they call Concept Art. Nor Video Art. Nor Performance Art. Nor a whole bunch of Other Art.

I am not prepared to propose a definition of Art, probably a hopeless task. Well, actually, I will sort of propose something like a definition of art after laying a little groundwork.

Nowadays, it seems that just about anyone can proclaim himself an Artist. A few credentials such as a college degree or studio training are helpful, but not necessary: consider the case of postmodernist icon Jean-Michel Basquiat. Having proclaimed himself Artist, said Artist or a supporter proclaims that whatever he's making or doing is Art. And the Art Establishment often goes along with the gag, as it did with Basquiat.

Therefore, in today's world, anything can be Art, provided an Artist or Art Critic or Art Expert says so. The result of this is that the word Art has been rendered essentially meaningless.

My humble proposal is to reserve the word Art for what were called Fine Arts back in the late 19th century.

This might seem to rule out illustration, for example. Which would be too bad, because there are plenty of examples of 1890-1960 illustration that are as good as or better than much of what passed as Fine Art. On the other hand, if painting / graphic arts (in general, not just Academic works) is one of the Fine Arts, then many forms of illustration would qualify.

What my proposal rules out is much of what passes for Art today. I recognize that lines still have to be drawn, but that's the way the world is. For instance, surely someone would claim that Tracey Emin's Bed is actually sculpture, which it clearly isn't: It's a publicity stunt.

Setting aside that sort of quibble, the next task is to invent a name (or names) for all those newfangled non- Fine Arts that have emerged over the last century or so. Right now, I have no decent ideas, but I'll let you know if and when I do.

What is Art? - Reflections on 2014 Turner Prize Finalists

As happens every fall, the British component of the Art Establishment has spoken. Herein is the 2014 Turner Prize winner and the three other finalists.

Duncan Campbell was the winner; the Tate webpage citation is here, and includes the following: "Campbell makes films about controversial figures such as the Irish political activist Bernadette Devlin or the quixotic car manufacturer John DeLorean. By mixing archive footage and new material, he questions and challenges the documentary form."

As for the runners-up, there is Ciara Phillips.

The Tate link mentions "Phillips works with all kinds of prints: from screenprints and textiles to photos and wall paintings. She often works collaboratively, transforming the gallery into a workshop and involving other artists, designers and local community groups. Phillips has taken inspiration from Corita Kent (1918–1986), a pioneering artist, educator and activist who reinterpreted the advertising slogans and imagery of 1960s consumer culture." The image above of a Phillips exhibit credits the late Corita Kent with the "text works." Phillips' specialty is printmaking.

Then there is Tris Vonna-Michell (link). "Through fast-paced spoken word live performances and audio recordings Vonna-Michell (born Southend, 1982) tells circuitous and multilayered stories. Accompanied by a ‘visual script’ of slide projections, photocopies and other ephemera, his works are characterised by fragments of information, detours and dead ends."

James Richards' display of blankets from 2007, above, is titled "Untitled Merchandise (Lovers and Dealers)" -- not his Turner Prize effort -- that the Telegraph helpfully explains as showing artist Keith Haring's "dealers and boyfriends." The Tate link is here, including the following: "Born in 1983 in Cardiff, Richards was nominated for Rosebud, which includes close-ups of art books in a Tokyo library – the genitalia scratched out to comply with censorship laws."

So this is art worthy of our attention and respect.

Though I've seen neither Campbell's movies nor Vonna-Michell's standup schtick (though I'm virtually certain they're of the postmodernist ilk), what we seem to have here is a group of career-building posturers quite likely cynically gaming the postmodernist Art Establishment system by being "creative," "innovative," and "fearless" in shocking the bourgeoisie while posing as vedettes of the avant-garde.

Fundamentally, they are not as serious as they think (though they are unlikely to admit it).

But the real problem, in my warped (from their perspective) mind is the committee of establishmentarians who selected the finalists and winner. What on earth could they have been thinking? My guess is that they were fearful of being accused of conservatism.

I don't want to get into the business of trying to define "art." Though I think a useful distinction worth preserving is the concept of Fine Arts and Fine Arts - related illustration as opposed to other "arts" such as film, dance, graphic novels, and the self-promotional artifacts the Turner committee seems to prefer.

Moreover, I don't like the idea of "art" being defined by a body of "experts." That easily leads to bureaucratic rigidity exemplified by the French Academy in days of yore.

Nor do I especially welcome the self-proclaimed "artist" who defines whatever he is producing as "art." Actually, there is no real harm in that so long as there would be a philistine accusation-free zone where others could gauge those products against their own tastes and are allowed to publicly proclaim that what they are viewing is usually silly. Which is what I think most Turner Prize "art" is.

What is Art?

I suppose some people who got better grades than me in university and graduate school will snicker and chalk it up to intellectual inferiority, and maybe they'd be correct. Nevertheless, I'm willing to admit that I am uneasy being in the same room with elaborate theories or thought structures pertaining to human behavior. So I am extremely reluctant to indulge in that sort of activity, being more comfortable with rules of thumb couched in probabilistic terms. (Theorizing done regarding the physical sciences is different because the subject matter does not possess volition.)

Why am I gun-shy? Perhaps because I was exposed to such theorizing in graduate school and couldn't see the sense of it (my IQ was never stellar). For example, in the Sociology Department at the University of Washington, Stewart Dodd was still around; years before, he had written about reducing human sociological behavior to something like mathematical formulas. I chalk up that effort of his as an exercise in trying something to find out if it was really workable. It turns out that it wasn't, though fans of Isaac Asimov's Hari Seldon might disagree.

And then there was social theorist Talcott Parsons of Harvard who many at Washington and at Dear Old Penn worshiped in those days. I never worshiped him, but nevertheless forced myself to plow through some of his writings because I might have had to deal with his ideas in my Ph.D. examinations. As best I remember, his structure was elaborate and had many details, all of which were considered very important. Another failed effort, in my opinion.

So what does this have to do with art?

Reducing it to a matter of definition. The current Art Establishment seems to hold that just about anything can be considered art if a few people (for instance, an "artist," an art galley and an art reporter or critic) proclaim something as "art." And if someone fails to recognize that something is "art," well, they must be closed-minded or maybe have some other cultural or even mental deficiency. But if just about anything can be art, then art is nothing special. So how can that be, given that certain art objects are worth a good deal of money and might be found and venerated in large museums? A tricky situation, here.

Consider this "art" object, an assemblage titled "My Bed" by Tracey Emin. This article treats it as art, offering as justification that Emin put a good deal of thought and work into its creation.

Now consider "My Desktop," in the image above -- a photo I took just before writing this post. I did not put a lot of thought and energy into creating the fascinating tactile ensemble you see in the photo, but it is not entirely haphazard, either. Objects have their places. Near the upper right are bits of computer equipment. Next to it are writing instruments. Notes and notepads are at either end of the desk, and so on.

To some people, my desktop could, perhaps should be considered art. I don't think it is art. I do not think Emin's "My Bed" is art either. To me it is a kind of public relations stunt related to marketing the Tracey Emin brand and, by the way, has the virtue of being sold for real Pounds Sterling.

As I noted, in our modernist world, the definition of art lies in the eye or mind of the beholder. Some behold "My Bed" as art, other do not. However, it seems that Art Establishment beholders and their followers are definitely more equal than others -- especially compared to those dull-witted philistines incapable of appreciating the nuances of great works of art such as Emin's "My Bed."

Given my distrust of theoretical systems, I'm not going to offer a rigid definition of art, even though I disagree with the current art-is-just-about-anything ethos. But I will toss out an idea. Did you ever notice that young children supplied with a pencil, crayon or some similar tool and a surface to mark on, seem to enjoy creating images of objects they know in their world. This is the nub of art. Their messy beds are not.

Paintings at the 2012 Whitney Biennial

A century and more ago, the salons -- major art exhibits -- were the creature of an Academy, the Art Establishment of the day. Nowadays, academies are often peripheral, the Art Establishment residing in the form of certain major museums, art dealers, university-based art schools and art critics and commentators. Establishment thinking as to what is the best in art is revealed in various venues, the most publicized being recurring exhibitions and awards such as the Turner Prize in Britain, the Venice Biennale and New York's Whitney Biennial.

Let's consider the most recent Whitney, which took place last year. The Wikipedia entry on the Biennial is here, and the Whitney's list of exhibitors in 2012 is here.

There were about 50 artists or groups selected. Of these, only about five dealt with drawing or painting, as best I can tell from the Web site. It seems the the Biennial curators are free to seek what they consider art wherever they can find it. The result is that I find it hard to deny the the American Art Establishment must consider juvenile attempts to be "creative" as the cornerstone of True Art. To me, it's at best a manifestation of public relations in the form of self-promotion by artists that benefits the Establishment by providing grist for displays and commentary.

But why read my screed when you can link to artist information from the Whitney Web site. Below are images from that site for the five artists who more or less were dealing in traditional graphic media. Enjoy!!

Gallery

Kai Althoff

Nicole Eisenman

Werner Herzog (yes, the movie guy)

Jutta Koether

Andrew Masullo

Turner Prize Finalists 2011

It's Turner Prize time in Britain. This year's winner hasn't been announced yet, but the four finalist are known.

As the link above notes, the prize is given for recently completed works usually in the postmodern Concept Art genre. Examples of finalists' work are shown below.

Gallery

What to Ask for Others - Karla Black - 2011

A Library of Leaves - Martin Boyce

Man - Hilary Lloyd - 2010

The Resurface - George Shaw - 2011

I'm not sure why Shaw's painting made the grade. That's because (1) it's an actual painting and (2) there isn't much concept to it. I suppose the concept part is that he focuses on drab, commonplace subject-matter that a viewer is supposed (I assume) to read meaning into.

Black seems to be following the Marcel Duchamp path of designating whatever the self-proclaimed artists designates as art. Lloyd's piece is projected images, possibly video, though I can't rule out the positioning of the projectors as part of the Installation. Boyce's work can be considered some kind of sculpture.

The works of the latter three are the usual grist that can be found in the Tate Modern. I don't consider most of it art.

My problem is that the term "art" has been watered down (Duchamp's legacy) to the point where anything can be called "art." But if anything runs the risk of being "art," then art is nothing special and the term becomes meaningless.

Something created by a human being that pleases the eye might be considered art; this removes art a step from the proclaimed "art" by the self-proclaimed "artist" noted above. I'm willing to accept this as small-"a" art which this blog deals with it a fair amount.

Then there's capital-"A" Art which I define for the purpose of this post as the traditional Fine Arts.

Turner Prize art mostly falls in the first and (to some extent) second categories just mentioned. Sad to say for the Turnerites, such art has little likely long-term future in the sense that viewers a century from now probably will be less able to grasp the Concepts than the average viewer-in-the-street can today.

I find the Turner Prize both sad and silly. Its main worth is that it demonstrates how far Establishment art has fallen as modernism continues its aimless course.

Art Establishment's View: Modigliani Book Reviewed

The February 26-27 2011 weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal had this review of a biography of Amedeo Modigliani (1884-1920). The reviewer is Lance Esplund, the articled titled "The Bad Boy of Montparnasse: In Modigliani, the anxiety and triumph of Modernism is reduced to a conventional sentimentality" and the book is "Modigliani: A Life" by Meryle Secrest (Knopf).

I'm calling this to your attention because Esplund strikes me as being comfortably camped in the Art Establishment compound, so it might be fun to pass along some things he writes in the piece. Here goes:

Just as much of a problem is her attempt to raise his stature as an artist. While Modigliani garnered popularity and income toward the end of his life, and his early death gave him a certain cultish luster, he was a second-tier Modernist. He was competent, never innovative; a follower, not a leader. Rejecting Cubism, Fauvism, Futurism and abstraction—all of which were blossoming around him—he instead moved backward through Cézanne, hiding in the past. Modigliani embraced the "look" of Modernism but not the liberation and synthesis of past and present that the movement encouraged.

Modigliani's art is a timid amalgamation of primitivism, African masks, Cycladic idols, the machine aesthetic, Art Nouveau and Old Master paintings. His famous figures—with their swan necks, almond eyes and old-world varnishes—are generalized, mannered and interchangeable. They appeal because they signify Modernist reduction yet stop short of abstraction; they simplify and distort without abandoning the comforts of 19th-century realism. They are an art in which style overwhelms specificity and substance and the anxiety and triumph of Modernism are reduced to a conventional sentimentality. The individual becomes a type, and a sitter's personality—even a nude's eroticism—is neutered. ...

When it comes to discussing and analyzing art, however, Ms. Secrest is often strident and off the mark. Chaim Soutine painted "hideous writhing canvases," and his "still lifes throb with the music of the universe." Cézanne's bathers are dismissed as "awkward, bulging figures"; Matisse made "pseudo abstractions"; and Mondrian is reduced to a painter of "blocks and diagrams." ...

Just as revealing is her positioning of Modigliani "at the end of a long line of masterful portraitists from Whistler and John Singer Sargent to Mary Cassatt and Cecilia Beaux," which, seemingly unbeknownst to the author, situates her subject squarely among second-tier artists.

I really hate to spoil Mr. Esplund's day, but Yr. Faithful Blogger also thinks that Cézanne was a lousy draftsman, that Matisse was not an Abstract Expressionist and that Mondrian's later paintings indeed incorporate a whiff of the geometric. And on what basis does he establish his artistic league tables? -- why, the Modernist Narrative of Art History, of course. That is, since Sargent and Beaux -- skilled portraitists both -- were not on the same path as Picasso, Pollock and De Kooning, their work must by definition be second-rate. And I'm a little puzzled by his inclusion of Cassatt because she normally holds the status of Honorary Impressionist.

As for Modigliani, although his work doesn't much appeal to me, I can't quite see why Esplund is so eager to break is sword, pull off his buttons and drum him out of True Modernism. Esplund must be either (a) a True Believer or (2) afraid to think and see for himself.