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.