A No-Brainer

Art is an attempt to reconcile stimuli into a coherent, if not complex and evolving, thought.

Just as an infant absorbs information through the senses in order to understand its place and relevance to the universe, an art viewer takes inventory of the elements of an artwork and compares them to previously recorded stimuli throughout the viewer's experience in an attempt to find a place for it within that evolving experience.

The sound of a car coming: the movement of the air carrying the sound, the knowledge of one's place in relation to the sound (whether one is outside or inside, near or far from the sound), the characteristics of the sound of tires on a surface, the frequency of the sound (Doppler Effect), etc. All of this information is catalogued and compared to previous knowledge of a variety of similar experiences resulting in what one would assume to be a similar experience: that of a car approaching.

Now apply this method of thinking to a simple image with two distinctive elements. In this instance, a photograph of a woman's face, presented with a word, "fork." Stay with me here. The mind tries to reconcile these two elements. What does this mean? What is it supposed to mean? Who did this? Is the woman a fork? Is the woman saying fork? Is she labeled as a fork? Is 'fork' a foreign term for woman? And so forth.

The image and the meaning of the text, and the professed relationship of the two become something to ponder, to understand. Some times it is easy but other times, such as this instance, it becomes almost impossible. Yet there is some vague possibility that can be postulated if one is willing. It is at this point when the viewer is able to identify with, on some level, the elements presented. That is art.

Discussion of Art in an Advanced Society

Suzanne Langer, according to Terry Barrett in Why is that Art? states that:

“The visual artist uses elements other than words that are less specific and freer than words constrained by definitions, and we see the artist’s use of the elements—sounds, marks, gestures—and understand them directly and immediately. The artist, by the use of symbolism, has the capacity to think about things without implying the existence of those objects. Whereas philosophy and science use discursive language (proceeding to a conclusion with reason rather than intuition) and propositional language (logically expressed statements), art uses nondiscursive language, that is, symbolism that cannot be directly or easily translated into literal, logical statements.”

Let me first say that I agree with this classification, and that science, philosophy, and other forms of reason and evidence based logic are inherently more articulate than any understanding of art we have so far.

Now, let’s assume that we, as a society, will have a much greater and inclusive understanding of art in the future, whether it is fifty years from now or five hundred and fifty. I don’t think many would dispute this postulation.

Okay. Now, let us imagine that as a society (in the future) we can reach such a level of understanding, a catalogue for reasoning, that we assume a mode of articulation of art that compares with the level of articulation that we have for our understanding of scientific and philosophical concepts. Basically, we will be able to describe art and interpretation of art as clearly as we can discuss the principle of gravity. In stating this possibility, someone told me that it would cease to become art. The intuitive and emotional side of art would be undermined by such understanding and articulation, and it would not be possible to be as expressive and traditionally artistic. At least, that is how I interpreted this statement.

I contest this assertion with a simple analogy. In psychology, there are certain theories regarding emotion and cognition, much of which attempts to be affirmed with empirical data (for instance, brainscan imaging). The study of emotion, and agreed upon vocabulary, allow us to discuss and understand emotion in ways that we were previously unable to do. Does this discussion, this deconstruction of emotion in any way negate emotion? Does simply having the means to discuss it somehow undermine its existence, or the physiological ways in which our bodies respond to it? Does the ability to discuss and understand art, to deconstruct it and study the ways our minds respond to it somehow mean that it doesn’t exist?

Older and Wiser?

My philosophy of art is an integral aspect of my philosophy of knowledge and life. As a college student, I am frequently in the position to consider my age and education and how it relates to my placement in society.

I consider myself young, idealistic, and naively optimistic. I tend to rely on that as a strength, rather than the traditional societal connotations. My youthful optimism gives me a source of inspiration, the feeling that I can change the world, or at least my small corner of it. Of course, given this enthusiasm, I am often confronted with “reality,” as seen by those who are older and consider themselves wiser. According to these people, I must live for a longer period of time, passively accruing experience, before I am able to comprehend the magnitude and complexity of the world. Apparently, no matter how much information I actively seek out, how much time and contemplation I put towards understanding, I am ultimately ill-equipped to make a weighted and consequence bearing decision. That, my friends, is a load of horseshit.

While I may not consider myself wise, I do believe I have an advantage over some. Strangely, I think that it is a direct result of my sheltered life. Growing up in a small town, in a culturally depraved state (now I really sound arrogant), I have been exposed to certain mentalities and prejudices that many people around me take at face value. I believe that is another curse of youth: the assertion of information and values without the reasoning behind such beliefs. Since being away from home, and out from under that mental totalitarianism than can be one’s parents, I have been forced to reexamine many of beliefs. I have compared and contrasted them against other ways of thinking, and in doing so, have gained a better appreciation of my own value system. This reevaluation has led me to this conclusion: I know nothing.

The older, wiser generations would agree that I know nothing. They would further assume that they know something, and would wish to impart this ‘wisdom’ upon me. What the ‘wise’ sometimes forget, is that they are not finished learning. My assumption is that in most cases, the older one gets, the more one is convinced of one’s own wisdom. This wisdom is affirmed by surrounding oneself with more likeminded individuals. That search for congruent opinion is an attack on diversity, knowledge, and learning.

When I have a philosophical disagreement with someone, I learn. In having a disagreement, both parties attempt to convince the other of the ‘rightness’ of one’s point of view. I know that I do. However, this disagreement is a challenge. In disagreeing with someone, I challenge the other person to convince me that part if not all of his or her point of view is valid. If that person is successful, I have 1) thought about something in a way that I had not previously, and 2) fundamentally changed the way I think about life. In gaining this knowledge, I have been given a part of that person’s wisdom, and added it to my own. This disagreement has forced me to consider my own values and allowed me to affirm them, adjust them, or dismiss them. Conversely, if that person cannot convince me of his or her point of view, I am obliged to convince this person of mine.

When I play chess, I try to play someone who is better than me. I will not learn if I am not challenged. In losing, I evaluate my mistakes, my weaknesses, and my opponent’s strengths. I apply that information to my next encounter, relentlessly, until I am able to overcome those obstacles. I tend to look at belief systems in the same way. If I do not have the power to defend my point of view, then I must acknowledge yours. It is this understanding, this assertion that I will always have something to learn, that prepares me in a way that the older and ‘wiser’ cannot and will not comprehend.

Art is Communication

Art is communication.

Communication is the creation, organization, and/or translation of sensory information or stimuli from one or more living beings to another living being or beings.

To put this in the context of humanity, communication exists when one or more human beings articulates an aspect of one’s world view into a vehicle which another person can decode, with varying degrees of sophistication depending on that person’s capacity for said degrees of sophistication.

Let us assume that the preceding statement is a formula, much like an algebraic equation: ax2 + bx + c = 0, where a, b, and c are real numbers and a ≠ 0. This formula applies in these situations:

1. Communication exists when one person organizes information in the form of a news article, given that person’s understanding of the events or ‘news’ in question. The information is viewed by others, most importantly an editor, before being published, distributed, and consumed. Upon consumption, the ‘recipient’ selects aspects of this vehicle to interpret, calling on his or her own powers of reason. The person is then left with some impression of the ideas presented in this vehicle (very often incongruent with its orginal intention) and thus is affected by another human being. Communication has occurred.
2. Communication exists when one person composes a musical work, such as a song. The composer possesses a certain understanding of the nature of sound, then proceeds to manipulate it to suit his or her purpose. Upon performance of the ‘song,’ the ‘recipient’ interprets aspects of this vehicle (in this instance, sound), again left with some impression of the original thought of the composer. To reiterate, the recipient’s impression of the vehicle is not necessarily required to be congruent with the composer’s intention. At the most basic level, the creator and recipient can agree that each of their respective brains has interpreted energy in the form of sound waves and electrical signals. Communication has occurred.
3. Communication exists when a person has artificially manipulated elements into a vehicle that we would refer to as art. This vehicle is received through one or more of our five senses, converted into electrical signals, and sent to the brain. Again, this information is interpreted, both basically and cognitively, leaving the viewer with an impression that he or she would otherwise not possess. Communication has occurred.

This argument/formula can be applied to the mechanics of a conversation between two people, or the release and receipt of pheremones from one animal to another. This is an all-inclusive definition of the purpose and principle of our understanding of the English form of the abstract concept we refer to as Communication.

In relation to art, if one is to accept the premise that art is communication, then one must apply a potentially infinite number of complex criteria when evaluating and understanding art.

On one side of the spectrum, the viewer can attempt to understand and interpret a work of art drawing from only the information inherent in the work of art in question. This can be considered our ‘gut reaction’ to art, our initial impression, the unconscious way in which we immediately evaluate and many times decide if we like it or not. Many times, this is entirely independent of the artist’s intention.

On the other end of the spectrum, one perceives this work of art as an entity that shares a mutual existence with oneself in relation to the universe. There is information inherent in the work/entity itself that can be interpreted, but does not answer all of the questions about why it exists. The viewer acknowledges that this entity is not eternal, but that events transpired that were integral to this entity’s existence. If the viewer is so inclined, he or she is forced to ask questions about this entity’s existence. The question can be as simple as “What is this made of?” The questions can also be as complex as “Who is the person who made this?” “How did she fit that in here?” and “What kind of life would this person have led that would have make the existence of this grotesque object necessary?”

The former mode of assessment is limited, in that the viewer intentionally adopts key aspects of evaluation while simultaneously omitting others. Here is an example:

The viewer walks into a gallery, armed with his education, his intellect, his powers of reason, and the understanding that he is walking into an art gallery. Upon viewing a work, he then applies his knowledge of art history (minimal or extensive), his own self applied level of expertise in judging the value of art, and his own theory of what constitutes art. Simultaneously, he omits other levels of evaluation: cultural and social context, intent, possibilities or limitations of the space, the personal journey of the artist, etc.

Another example is more explicit:

A man walks into the Museum of Modern Art, sees Jackson Pollock’s Number 1, and is disgusted. “What is this? Dripped paint? I could do that! My KID could do THAT! Why would anyone consider THAT art?” Simultaneously he is unaware of Mr. Pollock’s ‘traditional’ art training, his ability to render and paint representationally, , his struggles with alcohol and depression, the series of events leading up to Abstract Expressionism, the notion that the work is a record its own making, and the understanding of how little money he was paid in comparison with how much his works are worth today.

This viewer is not ill equipped to look at or interpret art. The art exists to interact immediately with the viewer; visually, aurally, etc. It is when the viewer makes judgement, for or against, without attempting to ask these other questions, that he or she is in danger of not being able to fully appreciate the existence of art. This is not to say that true appreciation and understanding is attainable. There are too many questions to ask. What is important is the attempt to ask these questions, which is in itself the quest to understanding.

As artists and critics, we often talk about context. In fact, one might argue that this entire theory is put in the context of human thought and interaction with the universe. All of art has a context, but to limit the parameters of that context undermines the very nature of evaluation and understanding itself.

Text from a personal statement for a methodology course

I have always been able to draw. Even when I was very young, I was aware that the ability to draw was a gift. I was part of a talented minority. I was fortunate to have an art teacher as a grandmother, so I was never discouraged from pursuing art as a career, as sadly many in our society are. In what capacity, I was never quite sure, but I knew that I would use art to make a living.

Upon entering college, I somehow assumed that since I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do that I would major in “undecided.” The next year I declared graphic design; supposedly you can make money doing that. During the course of my studies, I began enjoying art for itself. So many different types of art; I liked some, disliked others, but knew that for me, I would not be happy making art for someone else, which I would undoubtedly be doing as a graphic artist.

It wasn’t until my introduction to watercolor and sculpture that I began to mature as an artist. Watercolor provided me with a medium that was spontaneous and expressive, liberating me from a lifetime of an obsessive-compulsive style of drawing and a complete hatred for oil painting. I had finally made the transition from drawing to painting, and enjoyed it.

But it was sculpture that opened my eyes and liberated my mind. I was introduced to artists I had never heard of before, most of which were still alive. I was introduced to art that I had never dreamed of: land art, conceptual art, video art, installation. This was art that was happening now, was happening ten, twenty, fifty or more years before I was born, and I had to come to college to hear about it. It was the artistic equivalent of learning about World War Two, Vietnam, The Cold War, and the Gulf War; Civil Rights, Women’s Liberation, Rock and Roll, etc. My first projects had to deal with concepts: light, movement, sound, environment. At this point, I became aware of a whole new side of art, the cognitive side. The idea that art is an idea. At this point, I decided I wanted to be an artist. Furthermore, I wanted to open others’ eyes in the same way that mine were opened. I wanted to be a professor.

As I just said, much of my primary influences are conceptual art, video art, sculpture (in the sense that it is an experimentation with materials), and the development of my sensitivity to the space around myself and art, realized through installation and the three dimensional nature of traditional sculpture. Don’t get me wrong; I love drawing and I love drawings, paintings, and any other art that involves the expressive gesture of the artist’s hand. However, these traditional forms, generally dependant on the natural talents of the artist, don’t give me the mental high that I get from other forms of conceptual art. The dialogue between the art and the viewer is not as pronounced, if for no other reason than because the viewer expects it.

This mental appreciation of art tends to make me the ultimate optimist. I think everyone is an artist, and I think everyone has the capacity to appreciate all forms of art. My mission in life is to convince everyone of that. Why? Because art is fun, every bit of it. But it can also make you think. It can piss you off. It can make you cry. It can also be dismissed, but not on my watch.

When an artist truly finds oneself, the art is a direct conduit to the artist’s mind. All of the training, the influences, the experience of life itself is channeled into an artwork. The artist is no longer trying to imitate life. The artist is now telling you what he or she thinks about life.

Art is about communication. The most natural means of communication is visual. To gesture to someone, to use body language, to draw an illustration of a thought, to present an idea in written language. Traditional visual art is natural, but it is not the only way. I want to get my idea across as a drawing, as a photograph, as a video projection, as a sound, as a smell, as a room. I hope to refine my understanding of art, and to challenge it. I want to use this opportunity to articulate myself within a group of peers. I want to change the way I look at art, and I want to change the way you look at art.

"At times, I am deluded into thinking that the meaning of sculpture may be defined. Is it not the awareness of an inner reality, of which sculpture is a reflection and a sign?"

-Isamu Noguchi

"I can't understand why people are frightened of new ideas. I'm frightened by the old ones."

-John Cage

Observations: Emmersion in art

I was thinking about emmersion in art vs. passive viewing of art. As i said before, I believe the realm of theatre has hit on this concept, while music and visual art have taken some time coming to this conclusion.

In theatre, the audience is experiencing the performance as a person views a painting, viewing through a type of window. What challenges the viewer is when one's expectations of this window are thrown into chaos when an actor enters into that area from outside, usually from the audience's perspective.

My knowledge of the history of music is limited, but from my understanding it has traditionally been viewed passively in much the same way: the audience 'watches' the performance (on a stage, for example), absorbing the music from one direction(however, one must remember the practice of choirs in cathedrals being split into opposing sides). I have been informed that contemporary music is moving from that direction, adopting a more spatial and directional approach, much like surround sound. For me, this makes the music that much more emersive, maybe even textural, and provides the viewer with not only one more element with which to regard it, but also a way of separating bits of sound into elements that they may not always be inclined to do.

An example from my own experience: I witnessed an electronic composition concert last year, where the pieces were designed in 8 channel surround sound. As a viewer, i was emmersed in 360 degrees of sound, sound which was intentionally broken up directionally. Sometimes the elements would come from the front, then from the back. Other times it would reverberate seemingly randomly from different directions, almost as if it were bouncing within the space. In another instance, it would revolve around me, each speaker growing then fading in volume chronologically as it moved around me. If i closed my eyes, my mind would probably think that my body was spinning (now there's an interesting though, motion sickness triggered by sound). This type of approach to music is more sculptural, more spatial, and more installation oriented than anything i had experienced in regards to sound before. And of course, sculpture, space, and installation is my area of expertise.

Now to deal with visual art. Sculpture, i.e. a figure in a space differs from a painting/drawing in that the viewer has the option of moving around it in 3 dimensions. This is a bit different than the passive viewing of 2 dimensional work; the viewer can experience it from all sides, sometimes even from underneath or above. The result is a dialogue with the audience, where the piece confronts them with the reality that it is a physical object in which one is sharing a space, as opposed to a painting/drawing which within the confines of the frame/edge of the work lies its 'universe.'

To take it a step further, consider installation and environmental art. The artist still works with a given space, yet there can be multiple elements, forcing the viewer to move about in 3 dimensions, effectively being emmersed in the works 'universe.' No longer is the viewer surrounding the object, experiencing it as if one was the moon and the object was the earth; now the viewer is a part of the piece's world, playing the role of the earth surrounded by the moon, sun, stars, a whole galaxy.

I think a suitable analogy for this observation of passive vs. emmersion would be the idea of watching television vs. virtual reality.