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.