Unanswerable Questions

The process is now over. And strangely enough, I don't have any concrete answers to my questions. But I'm fine with that. In fact, I think it's appropriate and makes sense. The questions I asked in the beginning of this 'exploration' don't have universal answers. They cannot be answered.

Each person has their own view of artist intent. Some think it's the most important aspect about a piece of work, while others think it is completely negligible. And that's OK.

I think we just have to be aware that each piece of work is different. Some are creation "for the sake of art" while others do have an intended theme or story of message. It's our job, as viewers, to think critically about what we are looking at so that we can truly and appropriately decide how important the intent of the artist is in the specific piece we have taken an interest in.

A Message from an Artist...Without Any Messages?

"Seek the strongest color effect possible...the content is of no importance."

Fine words spoken by Henri Matisse. But are they really true? Is the content of a piece of art "of no importance"? I thought I'd take a look at different works by Matisse and see if they looked as though they had no true content. 

The Dance

Le bonheur de vivre

Harmony in Red

Perhaps Matisse had intended for the content of these pieces to be of negligible importance. And each piece does seem to emphasize and prioritize color. But even I'm not sure the content of the painting isn't important. Perhaps the intention of Matisse doesn't fully matter. But I would imagine that the content does entirely. Matisse's The Dance is beautiful. But it also has a narrative. I don't think you can say that the content of this piece isn't important. I don't know what the content what intended to be, and I don't necessarily want to know. I can have my own interpretation of the work and be satisfied. So maybe that is what Matisse was saying--knowing the content that the artist intends for isn't important. But I think that trying to understand what is happening in the piece would give it another layer of depth. 


"Creativity takes courage."
Another quote by Matisse. Perhaps this courage he speaks of is telling a story, or sending a message in your work--in your creation. 

The Subconscious

My cousin at Barnhard, who I interviewed for one of the two required interviews, gave me an article to read that she said was great help to her in her philosophy of art class. Art and Intention: A Philosophical Study by Paisley Livingston discusses the importance that intention plays in producing and appreciating art. “Intentions…are not always conscious or successfully realized; nor…can [we] expect to appreciate a work's meanings in every case simply by understanding the artist's intentions. But there are also ample reasons for thinking that we will often fail to understand the individual or collective production of a work of art…if we fail to pay attention to the relevant intentions.” Here is another philosopher of art who agrees that there is no clear answer. We cannot say that we must know the intent of the artist in each case. We cannot say that if we don’t fully understand what the artist was trying to achieve then our interpretations of the work hold no validity. There is a balance.

“There are some typical features of paradigmatic cases of artistic creativity and intentions are integral aspects of these features.” Livingston explains that intentions might be necessary for the narrative, but definitely not the artistic character of the work. "In a range of relatively simple cases," as he puts it, “the artist's decision is key to a work's completion, though this genetic attitude is merely necessary but not sufficient to establish that the finished product is a work of art.”

What Livingston said further supported all the information I’ve learned thus far. I think it’s important to note his understanding of how the subconscious plays a role in the production of a piece of art. Yes, artists sometimes think they are creating a piece of work that means a specific something. But something their subconscious causes other themes to be produced. Sometimes the artist doesn’t fully know what he or she is creating. So the notion of understand the intention of an artist might be an impossible one. We can never fully know what the artist had intended, because they don’t know themselves. And perhaps that is where individual interpretation is appropriate.

Gift Shop Surprises

When I was at the Met, I walked into the gift shop and saw a copy of a painting that I found really intriguing.

This piece squeezes in an enormous amount of content, both compositionally and narratively. I was really interested to find out more about it so I looked it up online, and to my surprise, I found a response to the painting that discussed artist intent.
JT Kirkland discusses the painting and notes, “while the actual content/story in Weege's paintings doesn't interest me much, you can't help but admire her ability as a painter. Weege's paintings force you to give them some time. For me, that alone is quite an accomplishment. If I understood the complete narration in each painting I'm sure I would like the work even more.” I think it’s interesting to see that Kirkland admits to not loving the content of the painting, he nevertheless can appreciate Weege’s painting skills, supporting the claim of “Art for Art’s Sake.”

Kirkland continues to say that it makes sense to “separate understanding and enjoyment. They're often, but not always connected.” And regarding conceptual art, he feels that “if it's not clear in communicating the concept to most viewers, then it fails as a work of art.” When I read this, I have to admit I was really quite proud of myself. I’d been thinking this same thing ever since I started researching artist intent for Senior Exploration and hearing a renowned artist and writer expressing the same opinion gave my ideas a greater sense of validity.

“ When an artist paints a narrative, using conscious or subconscious symbolic elements, it doesn't necessarily mean that the image is a map to a specific destination, or a puzzle to be solved. To ask a representational artist ‘why’ is like asking an abstract artist ‘what,’ and demonstrates the viewer's unwillingness or inability to explore the possibilities.” So perfectly put. I agree that when a painting looks like it has symbolism or a narrative in it, it’s important to try and understand what the symbolism or the narrative is trying to say. But I think that simply asking why the artist used the symbolism or asking him or her what their piece means shows that the viewers aren’t willing to “explore the possibilities” on their own.

Kirkland maintains that a greater knowledge of the symbolism in the artwork might allow the viewer to greater understand the painting. “You can go too far with the explanations,” Kirkland writes. “A pre-packaged tour of a foreign city can result in perceptions that are no more accurate than the ones gathered by the unprepared tourist who stumbles around on his own.”

Still, some viewers need guidance in understand the intent of the artist. And Kirkland accepts and is able to appreciate that. “Not everyone gets it or wants to try to get it. But I am more than happy to share my ideas with a viewer if that expands their understanding of my art, and perhaps art in general.”

“I wouldn't say I want my work to exceed my intent.” Kirkland says that he’s happy if viewers find lots of meaning in his work, but still believes that “the artist's intent is a sacred and immensely important thing. It's what separates artists from people who paint.”

It seems that Kirkland feels that to understand a work of art, context is incredibly important. Creating your own interpretations is great, but it doesn't allow you to truly understand the artist. “I believe viewers should have an imagintive role in art viewing... and they should intepret for themselves. But if they want to know the artist's intent they should ask.”

“A work of art is just a glimpse into the mind of the artist. I want to get into the mind. There's more there.”

Views From the Met

A couple days ago, I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There were many new exhibitions going on and the one that I found most interesting was entitled Rooms with a View: The Open Window in the 19th Century. The exhibition was a series of paintings that illustrated various rooms—some with people, some without, but always with a window looking outside. Now that I’ve been reading about symbolism in art, and looking at the intention of the artist, I wanted to figure out why this artist chose to put windows in each painting. Looking at the paintings, they were obviously done by an artist with great skill and ability—they paintings are truly beautiful and their use of light is exceptional. But the windows spoke to me. Something about them made me want to dig a little deeper. So I took a while to think. I sat down on the couches the museum had in the center of the gallery and looked around at all the paintings.

Woman Embroidering, Georg Friedrich Kersting

Woman at the Window, Caspar David Friedrich

View of Pillnitz Castle, Johan Christian Dahl

 View from the Artist’s Window, Martinus Rorbye

 

Interior with View of Sainte-Eustache, Martin Drolling

Each painting has a window. In each window there is a view. But inside the room there is nothing out of the ordinary going on. In fact, the lives of the figures in the paintings, or if they don’t have figures then just the rooms themselves, appear very mundane. Boring, almost. So what do these windows say? Perhaps they’re there to say something. Perhaps the windows are there to symbolize what could be, what the people in the paintings are missing in their lives. What’s going on inside of the room has no real life to it. The people are certainly performing tasks, but there is no true story in any of the paintings. And to me, it seems as though the windows serve to show that if they leave their rooms, if the people in these paintings make a change in how they live, they can improve the quality of their lives.

This was the description the Met gave of the exhibition:

This exhibition focuses on a subject treasured by the Romantics: the view through an open window. German, French, Danish, and Russian artists first took up the theme in the second decade of the nineteenth century. Juxtaposing near and far, the window is a metaphor for unfulfilled longing. Painters distilled this feeling in pictures of hushed, spare rooms with contemplative figures; studios with artists at work; and open windows as the sole motif. As the exhibition reveals, these pictures may shift markedly in tone, yet they share a distinct absence of the anecdote and narrative that characterized earlier genre painting.

Art for Art's Sake?

After reading about artists who felt that art is created for the sake of the art itself, I thought I'd look at my own work to see if I'd agree. And I realized there cannot be one universal answer. There is art that is aesthetically appealing. And there is art that undoubtedly evokes some sort of emotion, which cannot simply be called art for art's sake.

Here are two examples. The piece on the left is a rendering of an elderly man. I would feel comfortable calling it art for art's sake. But the piece on the left is so much more intriguing. A woman's face melting? There has got to be something behind that. And there is. I was doing a series of distortions for my AP Art concentration, and I needed one more piece to fulfill the requirements. I was going through my drawings to see if I could use any of them as distortions and I came across one of an elderly woman, with wrinkles galore. I knew exactly what to do. I distorted her face to make it look as though pieces of her face were tearing. I wanted to create the image of a woman so dejected she felt as though her entire face was crying. So there is so much more behind it than there is to the first painting of the elderly man. 

I realized that for me, there definitely can be instances of "Art for Art's Sake." But that won't always be the case. Sometimes art, like literature, means something. And it causes the viewer to take a second look. To think a little deeper. To really try and understand what the painting is saying, rather than appreciating the aesthetics of the work. 

A Lesson In History

Although this piece of history doesn't fully answer my questions, it does provide a certain amount of context that I thought should be share. So this is what I just learned by visiting a number of websites about the history of progressive modernism and "Art for Art's Sake." 

Progressive modernism came to dominate the art scene in Europe by the early 20th century. In contrast to the progressive modernists, conservative modernists presented images that reflected conservative moral values, virtuous behavior, and offered inspiring Christian sentiment. In contrast to conservative modernism, progressive modernism adopted a somewhat hostile position towards society and its established institutions—kind of ‘politically liberal’ in its support of freedom of expression and demands of equality. The practice of artistic freedom became fundamental to progressive modernism. In his editorials, the acclaimed French novelist and critic, Théophile Gautier, believed the idea that art should be independent, and promoted the slogan ‘l’art pour l’art.’ He stated that art should be produced not for the public’s sake, but for art’s sake. Art for Art’s Sake was a call for art’s freedom from the demands of tyranny of meaning and purpose. From a progressive modernist’s point of view, it was a further exercise of freedom. This ‘purely visual’ characteristic of art made it completely separate from the everyday world of social and political life. In the hands of the conservative establishment, formalism became a very effective instrument of control over disruptive art. Many of the art movements spawned in the first half of the 20th century can be seen as various attempts to break the formalist grip on progressive modernism.

So how does it relate to Does the intent of the artist matter? It doesn't directly. But it is interesting to see and to understand that there are artists who appreciate the notion of Art for Art's Sake—that there doesn't necessarily have to be a message in the art. So it's definitely one answer to Is art created for the sole purpose of art itself? The answer being yes. 

Pondering a Thought

My mom recently created a book of photos of my artwork throughout the years. She wanted to compile everything together to give to my dad for a Father’s Day present. I began looking at everything, all my work since I was about 5 years old. Some of the work was produced from photographs so it couldn’t really say anything about the piece (although I guess you could say there might have been a reason behind why I chose the photograph to draw from).

I remembered most of the stuff I had done in the last few years, so I didn’t really feel any differently about them than I had about my earlier work—when I was about 5 or so. Of course, the mind of a 5 year old child may not be sophisticated enough to thoughtfully consider what they want to go onto the piece of paper. But I still thought it would be interesting to look at my work from that time and see if I could try to understand anything from it. And it was fascinating to see how 13 years later I was coming up with explanations for certain things in my drawings that I undoubtedly hadn’t intended to be there—I was purposefully “overanalyzing” the work to see what would come of it.

And that go me to thinking…

Looking at your own work so many years later results in (at least in my case) a different perspective of the work. A perspective that might not parallel what you had intended so many years ago. But it still offers something extraordinary to the viewer. It allows you to look at yourself in a different light and maybe notice something about yourself that you hadn’t noticed before.

And if that’s the case, what can be said for people looking at the art of someone they have never met. They’ll be thinking critically about a work that was created by someone they know nothing about. So their analysis of the work might be so completely different than why the artist had intended. But…does that matter?

Grandparents Always Have Something To Offer

I took a visit to see my grandparents today. As I walked into the apartment I suddenly noticed all the sculptures on display that my grandfather had made so many years ago. And, seeing how senior exploration was on my mind (as it always is, of course), I decided I'd take a closer look at them. Most were abstract pieces that I couldn't really get my head around, or the typical ones of the human body, but there were several that caught my eye. 

Before I asked my grandfather what his inspiration for this specific sculpture was, I wanted to look at it with a more critical eye than I had in the past. I didn't realize how sad it really was. A naked woman crying on the floor. It didn't really strike me as depressing or disturbing, but simply as sad. I related to this piece the same way I might relate to a tragic novel I read, imagining a fictional character going through something painful. Truth be told, because I had the artist of the piece in the same room with me, I was too curious to analyze further. I just wanted to know what the piece was all about. 

My grandfather told me that at the time he was into his sculpture-making, he knew someone who was going through an incredibly painful divorce. He thought of this woman and how she might be coming out of the shower, only to fall onto the floor into a puddle of tears. How she would lie there, crying to herself, thinking of all the effort she had put into her marriage and how her husband had barely even tried. At that point, the sculpture went from evoking a feeling of sadness to a feeling of pure commiseration. 

Now, this isn't to say that my grandfather had intended for the viewers of the sculpture to understand everything about this woman. Quite honestly, I think he would much prefer someone complimenting him on his technique. Still, understanding the story behind the piece does give it another layer, and it does give the message of the piece more profundity. But whether or not I needed to know the intent of my grandfather, or if my simpler interpretation of the piece can be deemed "right," or if simply appreciating the piece as a work of art is acceptable I have yet to answer. 

MoMA (Museum of Misconstrued Absentmindedness)

Not really. But kind of.

Today I took a trip to the Museum of Modern Art. I just recently started enjoying going to museums. I occupied the mindset of an immature child longer than I should have, not being able to appreciate what museums have to offer. Unfortunately, this trip didn’t exactly validate my decision to start appreciating museums. I was pretty unimpressed. Perhaps this is become I generally can appreciate realist artwork better than I can modern artwork. And who am I to say whether Picasso’s guitar exhibit was impressive, or if the “classics” in the permanent collection of the museum were all that awe-inspiring. So I figured it’s really not important whether I like it. It’s important to see what the artist is doing, or at least try to understand something about the work (whether or not it parallels what the artist had intended).

So I decided to do the following: walk through the exhibits, find several works that caught my eye, think critically about their message, and then research the work to see if my analysis was in any way similar to what the artist had intended. Of course, this doesn’t answer whether it matters if my analysis matched the artist’s, or if understand the intent of the artist is important. That I shall leave for another time.

When you walk into the permanent collection in the MoMA, you immediately see this:

Christina’s World, Andrew Wyeth

I’m not exactly sure why this painting is considered “modern,” but it’s in MoMA, and it immediately intrigued me. And it doesn’t seem like it has a “message” that is supposed to be taken away. It just seems to be telling a story. But understanding the story a painting is trying to convey is the same as understanding a message, because sometimes, the message lies within the story. So what is the story?

You see a field. You see a barn. You see a woman. But what’s happening? To me, it looked like this woman is struggling to crawl up the field, longing the reach the barn. And I guess that could be the extent of it all. Maybe this painting really is about a woman who was hurt and couldn’t walk up the field. Or maybe the story is trying to convey something the artist was feeling himself. Maybe the artist possessed a feeling of powerlessness; that he was unable of doing certain things in his life that he hoped he could do.

That was my immediate reaction to the painting (immediate reaction with some thought, of course).

I found a description of the piece on Wikipedia.

The woman in the painting is Christina Olson. She suffered from Polio, a muscular deterioration that paralyzed her lower body. Wyeth was inspired to create the painting when through a window from within the house he saw her crawling across a field. Wyeth had a summer home in the area and was on friendly terms with Olson, using her and her younger brother as the subject of paintings from 1940 to 1968. Although Olson was the inspiration and subject of the painting, she was not the primary model — Wyeth's wife Betsy posed as the torso of the painting.

So I had a pretty good sense of what it was about (although my small thought about the artist and how the painting related to him seems to have no basis.) 

But does it matter that I was able to understand the story the artist was conveying? I'm not so sure. The piece is quite beautiful just as a piece of art. The story definitely gives it a greater level of depth. And finding out the story after looking at the piece for quite some time definitely gave me some shivers. 

So for now, I can't say. I can only continue to investigate and explore. And take another trip to the MoMA — I was kind of hoping I'd love it. Definitely need to give it another chance.

A Brief Introduction

I've always been interested in art. Always drawing, painting, sketching. Always trying to produce something aesthetically pleasing. But never really trying to convey a certain message with my art. My art teachers had always tried to get me to draw something with an intended theme or certain implication. I was very resistant. I liked creating work that "looked good."And I realize that's totally acceptable, but sometimes trying to convey a message in your work is important.

But the idea of trying to convey a message in artwork, or creating a piece that "means" something, lended itself to a series of questions.

Does the intent of the artist matter?
If the viewer's interpretation of the art doesn't parallel the intent of the artist, is their opinion totally discredited?
Is art created for the sole purpose of the art itself?
Is art a self-indulgent field and created for the artists themselves?
Is art created for the viewer?

So I began to think...how can I go about exploring the above questions in a most thoughtful and interesting way. Visits to museums, reading various articles by art philosophers, and perhaps even getting feedback about my own art.

And what better way to do that than create a blog. So here it is: A Look at Artist Intent.