Finding Merit and Meaning: A Review of the WSU Masters of Fine Arts Thesis Exhibit

The WSU Masters of Fine Arts Thesis Exhibition displayed five students’ artwork, their theses after two years of hard work in the MFA program. As a thesis presentation, this exhibit presumably showed these experienced students’ best pieces, produced through the mindset of one who has had years of practice developing their talents, while simultaneously studying art history, technique, and art theory. Assuming these students held an experienced level of artistic talent and understanding, I entered the exhibit anticipating highly aesthetic and meaningful pieces that would be able to speak to me artistically. Although it was perhaps an unfair expectation to put on the artists, I left the exhibit feeling that the artists differed in their ability to convey this message to me as an audience member—in particular, Heather Losey McGreachy and Brad Dissmore.
Of the five artists, I felt that Heather Losey McGreachy showcased her talent well in her utilization of medium to speak to her viewers. Using digital painting, her nature scenes came to life through the blending of rich colors and texture. Diessa Lowlands (2009) highlighted the beautiful effects of a warm sunset hitting a hilltop and the reflection of that image in the placid water below. One could almost feel the warmth of the sun through the orange glow flowing over the hill. Lions Arch (2008), on the other hand, showed a layering of color and penciled texture that harmonized into curves and ridges of the mountains and lake below, giving a sense of the imperfection and unique qualities that every landscape holds. All her techniques expressed how diverse nature can be in setting and topography but how tied together it ultimately is through the common element of color. As a viewer, I was impressed with her ability to convey feelings through her art while maintaining obvious skill.
On the other side of the spectrum, I walked out of the exhibit very dissatisfied with the collection by Brad Dinsmore. Overall, his pieces gave a feeling of confusion, both in his intention and literally in his art technique. Pieces like People and Proverbs (2009) and Combining Knowledge (2009) contained a jumbled, scribbled mess that, unlike the captivating quality a Pollock splatter produces, gave a confused sense of an unfinished, unintentional mess. A video of a hand casually, almost disinterestedly, flipping the pages of a notebook seemed almost to be mocking the viewer for trying to find its purpose. But perhaps most frustratingly, the lack of artistic ingenuity that Dinsmore’s pieces displayed was directly countered by certain elements in his works, like the hands in Learning to See (2009), whose detail was so skillfully penciled that they might as well be real. Clearly then, Dinsmore had artistic merit, and the self-portraits and cut-out phrases surrounded by lines were so awkward and juvenile that one must assume he had a purpose for creating them that way. However, ultimately I was never able to grasp Dinsmore’s artistic intention with his collection, and it left me confused and disappointed.
One might argue that a piece perhaps does not have to have a discernible “meaning,” and that Dinsmore should not have to provide an accompanying explanation to prove his piece is valid and meaningful art. However, one might also ask if art can be so if its meaning overshadows its aesthetic and baffles its audience. Although neither of these questions has a true right answer, it is my opinion that good artwork has a balance of a talented use of aesthetic techniques and discernible meaning that can provoke a feeling in the viewer. The disparity in quality of the artwork by McGreachy and Dinsmore helped me walk out of the thesis exhibition with a better knowledge and expectation of what good art is to me.

Frued, Foucault, and Pollock

After reading Freud and Foucault, I think that Jackson Pollock would fit with these two theorists. Freud talked much about daydreams and how the writer or artist uses them to “offer…a purely formal, that is, aesthetic, pleasure in the presentation of his phantasies.” This pleasure we experience through our subconscious, as it releases “yet greater pleasure arising from deeper sources of the mind” that we are not aware of. Because of this argument towards artistic creation, Pollock seemed to be a perfect fit due to the way he created art. He was never seemingly really conscious of what he created and just let the “creative juices” flow, which ultimately resulted in the intertwined drippings of paint that are called masterpieces today. While many of us do not understand Pollock’s paintings, obviously they have some kind of subconscious affect on us that makes us like them despite their first appearance of jumbled paint. I think Freud would find some sort of subconscious message in Pollock’s paintings if he were to see them today.
Foucault, I think, would also fit with Jackson Pollock as an artist. His theory centered on an artist being able to challenge the current thoughts/order in society, and from his detailed analysis of Las Meninas, it is clear that he values art that contains depth, mystery, and meaning that cause the viewer to think about the piece. We discussed in class how this artwork challenged the current trends of art at the time, going from portraits of revered noblepersons to a portrait centered possibly on the viewer themselves. I think that Pollock’s work challenged how art was viewed in our time—never before had something so disorganized and seemingly untalented had passed for art. However, the fact that Pollock’s paintings are worth so much and are still around today being analyzed are a testament for them having enough of the depth, mystery, and meaning criteria to change how society views art. Seeing those critics in the movie about Jackson Pollock we watched in class and how much they could find in one of those paintings that I could never pick out myself sounds to me just like what Foucault did in analyzing Las Meninas.

It seems to me that in any field, women must jump over obstacles to come anywhere near men, so why should the art world be any different? Taken out of context, I don’t think anyone can really pin down a “feminist” painting style…perhaps that’s me talking with no art education, but I honestly wouldn’t be able to tell which gender painted which beheading without seeing the captions below. I think the problem for women in art today is more a matter of being accepted into the male-dominated art world with artwork that is pre-tagged with a label that says “female” on it. At that moment, I feel that un-biased judging is thrown out the window, and suddenly all purpose, technique, and meaning to the piece is picked apart. Are the lines too feminine, or not feminine enough? Why is that flower placed there—must be because she’s emotional…that sort of thing. This is just my opinion, but I feel like any woman who would try to do something radically different in the art world would have her pieces labeled crazy or unartistic. Would a woman doing what Warhol, Serrano, and Pollock did have the success they did as men? I want to say yes because I want to believe it could be that way, but in reality I feel it would not be so. Most things females create (or do for that matter) in male-dominated areas will always be judged not just for content, but for the gender of their creators as well.

Heidi was fighting for women’s equality in art, but her battle was so hard because she wasn’t just fighting prejudices in the art arena—it was in every aspect of her life. As an audience member I could feel her frustration, loneliness, and unfulfillment as she tried to create a path for herself and the women of generations to come. However, while I would like to see more women artists in museums, you can’t just “add women and stir” as Freeland discusses. With that method, the same effect that male critics do to women’s art is applied in a roundabout way: while critics might discount a good piece of art for being created by a female, feminists might display a woman’s bad piece of artwork in a museum simply because it’s made by a female. Neither is right, and both lead to negativity surrounding female artists. One must accept that, like many things, men have dominated art for thousands of years, so lots of great historical pieces are man-made. But women are artists now, and slowly working females into the art world so great pieces are equally created for present and future is a better approach in my opinion.

Finally, comments on the play. When I read the play, I didn’t imagine all the interactions, the props, and the emotions that came out seeing it performed. It gave the play an entirely different meaning for me. Also, I didn’t really like the audio/visual portion until I heard the explanation. I thought that it was done that way to keep college students entertained, but when I heard more explanation behind its purpose, it made me appreciate it more. Same with hearing about the set, costumes, etc. It almost makes me wish I could hear explanations like that about every play I see because it helped me get in a better mindset to appreciate the dialog and not focus on the things I hadn’t imagined when I read it.

What makes a Pollock?

At first, I thought Pollock’s work was just an ugly jumble of lines with no rhyme or reason…No matter which direction I looked, the painting still seemed unattractive and messy to me, and didn’t seem to require much talent to produce. I really couldn’t see where all the hype was coming from, especially $140 million worth of hype. Could splashes of paint on a canvas really be worth that much? After seeing the movie in class, I still don’t think that that much money should ever be spent on a single piece of artwork—no matter how good—but I have changed my mind about Pollock to some extent. I’m still not able to look at pieces of his and expound upon its intricacies like the critics in the movie, but I am able to better appreciate his style. After seeing him paint, I understand that the lines of paint on his canvas interact with a sort of purpose, and the swirls of one color really intertwine with the others to make an intricate picture. Also, the article we read in class about fractals showed me that his works really did have more depth than I thought. I would never be able to look at a work and recognize that it has the right fractal number to be a Pollock, but understanding that science proved to me that he wasn’t always just messing around and unexpectedly producing a piece of art. The work he did really did require a special talent, whether it appears that way at first or not.

Because I’m not a Pollock fanatic, it is hard for me to comprehend Terri Horton’s Pollock dilemma because I understand both sides of the debate. If I were in Horton’s shoes, I would be just as outraged that the elite art world refused to acknowledge what seems to be a Pollock simply because of its connection to Horton. It’s my personal opinion that the painting she has is a trashed Pollock—it seems most likely to me that someone would’ve dumpster-dived it and thus the cycle of events leading to Horton’s hands. On the other hand, if I were an art buyer, I wouldn’t buy her piece because it just wouldn’t be a good investment. No matter how much scientific evidence or hearsay is brought up, the art world simply won’t accept the painting on principle. Thus, spending the exorbitant amounts of money usually doled out for Pollock’s would be just plain stupid because the prestige isn’t there—anyone who sees your painting will always be able to claim it’s a fake just as much as you claim it’s real. Honestly, it makes me glad I’m in the sciences and not such a confusing, sensitive environment.

Since Nietzsche is the most recent philosopher we discussed, he popped into my mind when thinking about Pollock’s style. Nietzsche wrote about the conflicts of the Apollonian and Dionysian in art, and that when the Dionysian takes over, the art has a state of disorder/chaos and energy. We even used the word “drunk” to describe the Dionysian state in class. Pollock himself was an alcoholic and apparently more often than not drunk when he painted. I think the way in which he threw himself into painting in his workshop, forgetting everything else and letting the creative energy flow, is very much Dionysian. The final pieces he created seem to me to be jumbled and intertwined and full of energy, captivating the audience. I would therefore included Pollock and his work as following Nietzsche’s art philosophy.

Blog 7: Nietzsche vs. Tolstoy

Nietzsche’s discussion of art revolves around the concept of art influenced by the Apollonian and Dionysian components of nature. He states that most of the world today is structured under the Apollonian, through which principium individuationis is at work. This concept is kind of like self-awareness and individuality. He equates this with restraint and order, and a dream-like state where everything is ideal. On the other hand, the Dionysian is a state in which the self is forgotten, and revelry and energy are rampant. It is in this state that Nietzsche argues true art is created and “the union between man and man [is] reaffirmed” p. 165. This occurs when principium individuationis, which is usually what state man lives in order to live without chaos and disorderliness, collapses and gives way to the Dionysian.
I might’ve made these concepts too simplistic, but I found two similarities between this way of thinking and Tolstoy’s. Tolstoy’s views on art center around three important characteristics: individuality, clearness, and sincerity. Without these, he argues that a piece cannot be considered art, for it does not contain the components necessary to have a successful “infection” of meaning from the artist to the spectator. Most important to “infecting” the spectator is sincerity in art. I think that the sincerity Tolstoy speaks of would produce an artwork with an effect similar to the Dionysian state of passion and creativity, because sincerity will create an action that is truly human just as the Dionysian state produces true human feeling. To use his own words, he states that “if the work does not transmit the artist’s peculiarity of feeling and is therefore not individual, if it is unintelligibly expressed, or if it has not proceeded from the author’s inner need for expression—it is not a work of art.” So, in order for there to be a true, worldly connection between one human and another, through art, there must be a transmittance of the unique, creative feeling the artist felt when they created the work. When this happens, this true, creative feeling, which comes when the artist lets go of principium individuationis, is conveyed to another person so that they can feel the same sensation when experiencing it. Thus I think that there is a Dionysian basis to the sincerity Tolstoy values so highly in art.
Additionally, the Dionysian is generally associated with the lower class, whereas Apollonian is associated with the elite. Similarly, Tolstoy believed true sincerity could only be created in peasant art, because the upper-class creates art “actuated by personal aims of covetousness or vanity.” Ultimately, I think that both Tolstoy and Nietzsche wish art to exist without the constraints of money, society, and rules, and when it is free of these things, it will be in its best and most natural form.

Blog six: Faking it in the art world

So far, I have enjoyed what we’ve watched of the “Faking It” movie (despite the British accents :) ). But, while it’s fun to watch someone’s possibly successful transformation, the concept of grooming someone into an artist and seeing if they’ll “pass” doesn’t sit right with me. First of all, it really makes me question the art world as being completely fair or valid. It was clear to me that what is accepted into it really boils down to the opinions of the editors, critics, and museum owners. While this can be a good thing because these people are educated and knowledgeable about art, I don’t think it is fair that one person’s work should be rejected because of one person’s decision while another is accepted. We saw some kind of museum curator looking over Paul’s work and choosing which pieces would be acceptable to display in an exhibit, and a critic saying which pieces he really believed were “art.” What were the small nuances that made some art and others not? The big blue half-faces Paul made looked exactly like something I would see in a museum, but the critic said he hated them. If I were an up-and-coming artist, this would be really frustrating to me.

And what does it say about the art world if Paul does end up “passing” as an artist? So far we’ve seen him creating pieces with certain techniques, testing if they will be accepted. He was trying to put some meaning behind them with his past paralysis, but it feels to me more like he is doing that because it’s his perception that art has to have some kind of big personal meaning behind it. I agree that art should have meaning and a purpose behind it, but I’m not ready to consider his pieces art, knowing the background behind them. And if they do pass, then can any average Joe make art? As Paul points out, if trapping butterflies in paint is art, then he does it every day with the little bugs that meet their demise on the walls he paints. But although I would like to think that it’s up to a critic to deem something worthy to be called “good art,” I am also not willing to let any average person with un-artistic intentions to try to play the art scene.

Overall, though, I think that he will be able to pass as an artist. I think that 2 out of the three critics will believe in his work. Being a reality show, the producers know that viewers want to see a success, so I’m guessing they wouldn’t show a failure!

Blog five: art sells, but at what cost?

After reading the numerous philosophers’ opinions on what constitutes art, it appears that today, the meaning of art has dwindled down to one aspect: money. Owning a piece of art is an exclusive game in which only the wealthy can afford to participate. Quality of art does not necessarily correspond to the price tag—an expensive piece really is just a product of those on top who deem it worthy. And many buyers do not buy because they think the artwork has merit, but because that six-digit price gives them bragging rights and the appearance of “good taste.”

However, the rich are finding themselves overspent in a sinking economy, and are putting their prized artworks into pawnshops like Art Capital Group. Likewise, artists that found their art gaining increasingly more income (like Annie Leibovitz) got caught up in a world of wealth and with no other monetary option, are now using their art as collateral in paying off debts. It appears art has become a bargaining chip and is the first thing to go in a house full of riches. If art these days is appreciated more for its monetary value and not its meaning or quality, and then the values vanishes, it is possible that many of the significant artworks will fade into a forgotten museum or history book and lose their importance in society. As we reach hard times economically, does this mean that the art world will die?

This is connected to another question: how many popular artists today are really creating for art’s sake? The video of Thomas Kinkade explores one popular artist, who in my opinion, is creating for money and not because those little river-side cottages give his life purpose. For him, art has become a full-fledged corporation. Thomas Kinkade realized his marketing power early on in his career, and turned this distributes millions of carbon-copy “paintings” to hungry buyers. Sure, his buyers love his work (almost in a cult-like way…), but one has to ask if what he’s doing is really art, and if it is helping art in the long run. A manufactured painting, created by a computer and finished by a worker in a factory, degrades the value of art in my opinion. If everyone can have a Kinkade in their house, the originality is lost and the other artists out there trying to create something meaningful will be overlooked. With technology the way it is, we do have access to art very easily, and it can’t be denied that Kinkade is a genius for capitalizing on this aspect. But personally, I would like art to stay the way it is, with each piece having that special quality of an original, and being appreciated for the way it is and not for any amount on a price tag.

One Number Too Many: A Review of Chris Jordan’s “Running the Numbers”

With his exhibit, “Running the Numbers,” Chris Jordan puts into pictures the staggering amount of material consumed by Americans on a regular basis. His technique of repetition, patterning, and photoshopping blends monumental numbers of everyday objects together while at the same time, keeping them separate—something Jordan calls the “one versus many” effect. While a simple written statistic or picture of wasted objects would generally be ignored, Jordan uses a combination of both in the hopes that his pieces will inspire a renewed awareness of overall social consumption to the individual viewer. This unique approach gives them a special significance in providing the viewer with an overall “in-your-face” illustrated statistic of their own wastefulness. However, looking more closely at Jordan’s works reveals a better perspective on the how effective his aesthetic approach and the portrayal of his social criticism really are.

Certainly, Jordan’s exhibit contained some noteworthy portions in regards to artistic ingenuity. Cans Seurat, for example, gives a creative modern twist to the famous French impressionist painting, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, by Georges Seurat. This well-known and highly regarded painting of a lakeside picnic is given a whole new meaning as one realizes its components are made up of not tiny paint dots, but of 106,000 tiny aluminum cans representing the number used in the U.S. every 30 seconds. By keeping the familiar image of the original painting but changing the fundamental components of the work, Jordan manages to create a small shock effect as the viewer processes the juxtaposition of the elements of the piece. The overall result is an effective portrayal of the statistic he is trying to convey, very much more so than if he had simply shown the number of cans in a mass amount.

Jordan’s Toothpicks also expertly blends his opinion with artistic technique, combining sheer volume with a landscape scene. The result is the illusion of a wheat field composed of 100 million toothpicks, an image that the viewer can easily recognize but is at the same time is contrasting to what they usually expect. Jordan skillfully fades the toothpicks into the horizon, hinting even more to the mass overuse of trees for something as unimportant as junk mail. Even the dark sky clouds ominously over the field of toothpicks, giving the viewer a sense of the looming consequences of their consumerist actions. Jordan combines these many elements to work towards a complex image of wastefulness.

However, despite its artistic merit, the exhibit ultimately gets to be too much by the end and it loses its effectiveness. While some pieces like Cans Seurat and Toothpicks do display a message of social criticism in an effective way, most of Jordan’s works simply contain too much patterning to give have continuing efficacy in piquing the viewers’ interest. The viewer will most likely get lost in the trance of repetition instead of taking in Jordan’s message, coming to expect the same overbearing statistic and repeated object in the next work that they saw in the last. This expectation can work opposite to Jordan’s intention, bringing increasingly less meaning to the works as the viewer’s senses get overwhelmed with large statistics.

Also contributing to the decreased efficacy of Jordan’s message in his works is the negative overall connotation attached to his exhibit. Jordan brings the viewers’ attention to the excessive consumption of America as a whole—in theory a helpful idea—but does not bolster his statistics with ideas on how to improve upon the consumption. Although Jordan’s message is given in an unembellished manner, the viewer is still left with a feeling of powerlessness, that they are simply one person who can do nothing against the millions of consumers in America.

Ultimately, despite good intention and artistic ability, Jordan’s exhibit falls short of its goal. For the most part, its message will suffer the same fate as his statistics, getting lost amongst the incomprehensible numbers that are just too much to process. But although most will walk out leaving the dreary significance of the exhibit on the walls, perhaps one or two conscientious souls will be inspired to cut back on their waste, and Jordan’s mission to raise awareness about America’s mass wastefulness will be justified.

Blog Four: Kant's "Critique of Judgment"

In his essay, Kant puts together an argument on what beauty is and how it can be accurately judged by an observer. He writes that our thoughts on beauty and what is good are bound to a representation of what the object is in our minds. Looking at an object might give us some kind of pleasure because the object provokes some kind of subjective sensation, but “the satisfaction in the beautiful must depend on the reflection upon an object, leading to [a] concept” (100). He claims that concepts are pre-conceived notions of an object that will hinder the individual’s ability to get away from the “sensible” appearances of objects that they create in their minds and be able to take a disinterested approach to judgment. I took this to mean that a concept is sort of the physical, concrete idea of what something is, but that is only one side of the object/art. In order to really pass true judgment, a person also needs some kind of intuition and mental understanding along with the concept. With this “universal voice,” one can then have the “the possibility of an aesthetical judgment that can…be regarded as valid by everyone” (106).
I was reminded a little of previous philosophers when I read Kant. Plato thought everything physical we saw was a representation of a true Idea, and I was reminded a little of this thought in part of Kant’s arguments. Kant thought that when we looked at an object, it was based upon a representation or concept we had in our mind already. I was also reminded of Hume a little when I read Kant’s comments on the “taste” that is inherent and different for everyone. Hume had stated that “The difference, it is said, is very wide between judgment and sentiment. All sentiment is right; because sentiment has a reference to nothing beyond itself…it only marks a certain conformity or relation between the object the organs or faculties of the mind” (80). Kant says in his essay, when talking about sensation that is elicited when looking at an object, that “as regards the pleasant, therefore, the fundamental proposition is valid; everyone has his own tastes” (104). Each of them believe for the most part that there are some inferences that men make about art that are unique to themselves and must always be right because they are their own opinion. However, both believe that there are some kinds of inherent, more valid parts of the man that make him able to provide a true judgment. It seems to me that a lot of the arguments of philosophers’ arguments about art that we’ve read so far center on some of the same general concepts—like the fact that man has some kind of internal sense of what is “beauty” and “taste,” and they also try to categorize art and art analyzation into categories. I appreciate their attempts, but they all seem to run into some road blocks and ask the audience to just accept the things they say as being the way they are. I find parts of each of their arguments to be good points, but at the end of it all, I don’t really think that anyone will ever be able to put their finger on the exact “right” way we can truly judge a piece of art.

Blog Three: Of the Standard Of Taste

Hume’s essay, “Of the Standard of Taste,” attempts to set up some parameters around “tasteful” art, and the ways in which one can truly judge if an artwork has taste or not. He claims that every man passes judgment on art based upon their own experiences, but only a man with the “delicacy of taste” is able to effectively give an unbiased verdict on a work. What I really liked about Hume’s argument is that he tried to give a thorough definition of why men try to analyze art and what makes a man worthy of judging an artwork. The flow of this explanation set up some valid points that I agree with on art and the art world.
Hume began at a logical starting point: defining the difference between judgment and sentiment in making opinions about art. Sentiment, he says, is always right, for it comes from a man’s own experiences, thoughts, and understandings. It is a feeling unique to each man and is considered to be right because it doesn’t really say what is true about the artwork, only a connection between the piece and the workings of the mind of the man. Hume sums this up by saying “Beauty…exists merely in the mind which contemplates them; and each mind perceives a different beauty.” Not only did this remind me a little of Plato’s argument that art is only a man’s thrice-removed, personal representation of the true Idea, but it also clarifies why so many people can have differing opinions on the same piece of art.
However, Hume goes on to say that true judgment is the only thing that can evaluate taste. This judgment stems from Hume’s observation that there are some universal ideas that every man has to allow him to judge art. These ideas, combined with practice and really delicate, tuned senses, make a man able to judge taste. I think that this could be a plausible point. Just like in any field of study, there are always people who understand it and perform in it the best because their minds or bodies are molded in such a way to make this possible. Not everyone in the world is capable of doing the kind of work that would garner a Nobel Prize—that is why those that do are so great; they understand their line of work so well that they are able to perform the best in it. The same, I think, can apply to art. There are a select few people that retain the keen observational and analytical skills that, when combined with much practice in looking at art, are able to give a much better opinion on taste than those who do not have these things. These kinds of people become art critics and curators because of their abilities.
To this argument, one might wonder how one can discern between those with good and bad judgment. Hume brings this up in his essay—“Authority or prejudice may give a temporary vogue to a bad poet or orator, but his reputation will never be durable or general.” I think that although this doesn’t give an immediate fix to the problem of weeding out the individual with bad judgment, it does give a long term solution. The one who is pulling judgment out of the air instead of from practiced knowledge will eventually be found out and will not be considered highly anymore (just as with artwork).
This brings me to answering this week’s blog question on whether the two paintings are tasteful. According to Hume, I am not able to pass judgment on the pieces, because I both do not have the practice in analyzing artwork, nor do I have the “delicacy of taste and senses” that one needs to give an unbiased critique of art. I can use the technique of comparison that Hume refers to in his essay, though. Compared to other artworks I have seen, the clown painting has no background I can go off of to tell me why this painting is meaningful. I guess the monkey painting (if the frame is included) is kind of clever. Usually a man (or woman) would be in the center of a portrait, but by putting a monkey there (a well-painted monkey at that), it makes the audience stop and think for a bit, which I think makes it a better piece of art than the clown painting. However, I am not sure whether or not the points I brought up qualify as being “tasteful” since I both do not have the capacity to judge correctly, and also because Hume didn’t leave us with an explicit definition of what tastefulness is.

Blog Two: Paradigms and Purposes response

This chapter described the views of two differing philosophical Greek minds, Plato and Aristotle. Each had a different impression of imitation—Plato argued that there is a higher “Idea” upon which all reality is imitating, and therefore art is a second-hand imitation that can never truly reveal the true Idea. Aristotle, on the other hand, saw imitation as something that can be enjoyed and even can be educational. However, the chapter went on to note that while the Greek notion of imitation in art was revered for a very long time, artists have finally begun to branch away from imitation in art.
I found this to be a really interesting concept. I am more of a fan of imitation paintings over modern art, but I never really focused on why modern art has moved to a more creative, abstract trend. Freeland cited this decline of imitation to come from photography, but I think I would also attribute it to the growth of technology and urbanization in modern American culture. Simple nature scenes or still art are no longer able to capture the attention of a society that is used to instant gratification and flashy computer graphics and special effects. In order to compete, I think that artists have moved to styles that will create something different enough to still grab people’s attention. An example can really be seen in the “shock art” that we touched on a little in class. Serrano’s Piss Christ and many other works use shocking and disturbing tactics to gain attention, whether positive or negative.
The debate that stems from this trend away from imitation is whether or not modern pieces like La Nona Ora by Maurizio Cattelan (in which a meteor is smashing into a wax figure of Pope John Paul II) are truly art. It is impossible to make the definition of “art” black and white, but I like how Danto is described to see art at the end of this chapter. His explanation is that different pieces are termed art in different eras because people “theorize about art differently.” This makes the context behind each piece different, and perhaps explains why it can be seen as art or not from different perspectives. This could be why cathedrals in very Christian medieval times were modeled after heaven and why so many gardens were created in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and why modern art is the way it is now.

Blog one: The Natural History of Art article response

I found Conniff’s article interesting, as I have always appreciated art but never really gave any thought as to why that was. It makes sense to me that as humans evolved, we kept biological triggers that cause us to like or be attracted to something so we could have the greatest chance at survival. I could see Conniff’s point in some of his examples—mainly those in which nature scenes or animal-like features were exhibited—because these are things that would have caught our attention way back in primitive times. Some of his examples I found to be a little stretched, however, like the ballerina’s pointed toes as we discussed in class.
What I take from this article is the knowledge that yes, some of art perhaps is biologically based, and there are parts of art that are intrinsically attractive to us as humans. I personally think that, in addition to Conniff’s examples, art could also be evolutionary in that it is a form of communication in a sense between the artist and the viewer (or listener if it’s music). I can just imagine that cave people drew things on their cave walls both to entertain and also to talk about the world going on around them. Today, I think that art still holds some of those qualities as the artist makes art for entertainment or to get a message across to their audience, although these days it seems much more “developed” than that of early humans. Maybe then it is somewhere in our DNA to be able to communicate in this way.
However, although I believe that there is some basis to Conniff’s examples, I don’t believe that art is completely DNA-based. Humans are the only animals that can think abstractly, and I personally would like to think that we have the ability to express our creativity and enjoy other’s creative expressions on our own, and not just because it is biologically linked. I think that we are able to see dimensions in art that biology can’t explain. There very well could be an initial attraction to art that lies in our evolution, but I think that that initial attraction is built upon by our personal life experiences and viewpoints that ultimately bring different elements into the piece of art.