I love art, and I love to make fun of it, too. When my friends Ellie and Kinard came to visit late last year, we went to MoMA one afternoon, and before we left, we had a long conversation with my roommate about who gets to decide what art is. I think his basic argument (and I’m sure he’ll lambast me in the comments if I’m wrong) was that the individual observer gets to decide; if it’s art to you, it’s art. I think Ellie‘s basic argument was that nobody gets to say that something isn’t art. I think Kinard‘s basic argument was, “Let’s go to Shake Shack again.” Just kidding; that was me.
But yeah, I’ll defend your art to the death, even if it involves throwing soup on a statue. Still, here are some of the pieces at MoMA that gave me pause:
Belgian Lion by Marcel Broodthaers
The placard for this said, “Found object in frying pan.” It was under glass, which makes it all the funnier to me. ART.
These are evenly-spaced orange squares. ART!
There was a great story behind these that I don’t remember. Some benefactor said he’d give some artist, like, 10 bajillionty dollars to paint him an original piece every year or something, and this is what the artist gave him. And he totally didn’t murder the artist after receiving the first one. ART!!
I don’t think there was actually a rifle shot in this wall. AAAAART!
I absolutely love this description: “Each site was photographed at the time the marker was placed with no attempt made for a more or less interesting or picturesque representation of the location.” NOT-EVEN-TRYING ART!
I actually kind of like this one.
And this one, too.
But here’s some more ART:
Robert Barry’s 90mc Carrier Wave (FM) “consists of radio waves generated by a hand-engineered FM radio transmitter installed in this gallery but hidden from view”. INVISIBLE ART!
While all of this is a little laughable, it’s all a little wonderful, too. And really, I’d rather be too willing to call something art than not willing enough. Take a look at Mark Rothko’s No. 10 and tell me you want to be the person described in the last sentence of the MoMA placard next to the piece:
“The irregular patches of color characteristic of the artist’s Multiform paintings of 1948 seem to have settled into place on this canvas, which Rothko divided horizontally into three dominant planes of color that softly and subtly merge into one another. Between 1949 and 1950 Rothko simplified the compositional structure of his paintings and arrived at this, his signature style. He explained, ‘The progression of a painter’s work, as it travels in time from point to point, will be toward clarity: toward the elimination of all obstacles between the painter and the idea, and between the idea and the observer.’ MoMA acquired No. 10 in 1952. The painting—the first by Rothko to enter the collection—was so radical for the time that a trustee of the Museum resigned in protest.
ART!
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Certain pieces of “art” make me a little surly. I’m afraid I’m not open-minded enough to accept some of this shiz as art, and it makes me a wee bit crazy to think of people making actual money off of it.
There’s a piece at the museum here (seen here, with some douchebag posing thrice: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mjm/78249867/) that’s just panels painted to form a spectrum. I could have done that, but I didn’t, and it’s my second-favorite piece in the museum.
What appeals to us is so subjective, right? I happen to also love that, but I can see how other people could hate it and call it not-art. “I could have done that . . . but I didn’t” is basically how I approach everything in life that I want to hate but can’t. Selleck Waterfall Sandwich? I could have done that, but I didn’t.
Now I want to see your first-favourite piece.
Hahah remember the scene in (500) Days of Summer when they are looking at art and one is literally just a pile of dog poop? Art!
I don’t remember that! I’d really like to watch that movie again but can’t because I know it’s going to break my heart. Now even moreso.
We went to the Tate Modern in London and there were a canvas painted blue. Just plain blue. I just don’t get it.
That’s my very favourite example! The first time I saw it, I was like, “WHAT?! NO!!” Now I kind of feel differently about it because of the artist’s intention, but . . .
I mean, it’s a patented color! You have to love that!
I agree, I think the debate of whether something is art or not is up to the observer. Kinda like ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’. One thing I do hate though is when people say, “I COULD HAVE MADE THAT!” Um, well, you didn’t and you probably couldn’t have.
I’m very liberal about visual art. Talk to me about literature, though, and it’s a different story. There’s poetry, and then there’s Poetry. Serious Books, and then all those other books, which are not art.
I think the artist decides if her art is art or not. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t incomprehensible to me. Of course, this is coming from someone who thinks Jackson Pollock was brilliant and whose husband thinks he was a drunken philanderer who liked to sling paint. The same husband who will pay good money to see anything at all that anyone decides to do inside a black-box theatre.
So there you go.
I think Pollock is one of the best examples of why I don’t think anyone should really get to decide what is art and what isn’t. Years ago, I thought he was a total hack and used the “I could’ve done that” excuse to justify it. Well, then I actually saw one of his paintings up close and in person, and it completely affected me. There’s a whole lot more going on there than just paint-slinging.
It seems like some people are convinced if they can possibly replicate something it can’t be art. ‘I think I could reproduce that Warhol, so…’ (and it’s kind of like, you MIGHT be able to – maybe – but guess what… he did first). These folks also seem to be impressed by less and less all the time. I think it’s a digital age thing… hey can just ‘Google’ something… or filter something… or run some P.S. action…. and wow…. instant ‘results’.
On the other hand, the snobbish notion an ‘artist’ can do anything (or not) at any moment and dream up some completely random b.s. excuse to call it art (and look down their nose at people who ‘just don’t get it) is enough to make me want to throw-up. Honestly.
Either way… I’m just not happy, I guess. Although I would be happy if I could bank a mere half a bajillionty dollars to paint something (if the results don’t matter anyway, that is).
Yes. All of this. Sometimes knowing an artist’s intention will totally change my feelings about a piece, and sometimes it’ll make me hate the piece even more because it comes off as total b.s., like you said.
I think your stuff is incredible, obviously, and your kiwi and cherry pieces are basically what keep me waking up every morning. I don’t want to tell you to open up an Etsy store, but you should open up an Etsy store.
I never consider myself as an artist. So. I have a hard time with those who shoot paper and shit and call themselves artists. What I do actually takes talent, not just alcohol.
Weeeeeeeeeeell, it all depends on how you define talent, right? If you’re saying that technical ability is the most important thing, then still lifes are the only art that should be displayed in museums, and my DSLR pictures are all automatically better than anything you’ve taken with your iPhone. I think art envelopes technical skill AND creativity AND the way a viewer feels when looking at a piece. That’s why people like iPhone pictures of your kids more than they like my DSLR pictures of food.
Hilarious!! I really wish someone would hand me bags of money for painting a few stripes on a canvas!
LET’S GO TO SHAKE SHACK AGAIN!
Actually, I really enjoy the orange squares. I looked at those for a long time. My answer was actually the old “art is what the artist says it is.” I may not get the creative impetus, but they did, so who says they’re wrong?
I, too, remember seeing the blue painting at the Tate Modern and feeling a bit pissy. But I got over it. Let it be, right?