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.