:smack: Yes your absaloutly correct ,it was an incredible error on my part and believe it or not I am quite familiar with Roman history.
I was not at my most alert when I made that post .
An interesting article, thank you. A couple of points:
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The interviewer mentions that Serrano’s work with Catholic symbols can develop “An attraction to the sensuality and the carnality (of) Catholic iconography” IMO the reviewer must be talking about other images of Serrano’s that I am unfamiliar with, as IMO this statement makes no sense with respect to the Piss Christ photograph.
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When asked if he sees interpretations of his work as problematic, Serrano answers “Any critic can have his or her own interpretation. I have always felt that I am the sum total of my parts…People have to find ways of explaining the work. Sometimes I don’t reach out enough, so they have to fill in the void.” He also says he is glad critics have not categorized him as a “Hispanic” artist, so perhaps it’s futile to look for an ethnic component to his work.
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He claims not to have deliberately tried to be political with Piss Christ; in fact he claims that this work continues the tradition of religious iconography: “The best place for Piss Christ is in a church. In fact, I recently had a show in Marseilles in an actual church that also functions as an exhibition space, and the work looked great there. I think if the Vatican is smart, someday they’ll collect my work…I don’t go out of my way to be critical of the Church in my work, because I think that I make icons worthy of the Church.”
These descriptions, for me, are not at all helpful in getting to the meaning of the work as art: They are rather contradictory and non-committal, which is the exact point I’m trying to make. Without some objective to hang an interpretation on, the work can’t really be judged; it’s not “good” or “bad”, but just a thing. So my question remains: What’s the “art” here?
There is also this interesting tidbit: The interview describes a 2002 show in which Serrano juxtaposed photos of Klan wizards with ones of the homeless–I’ll happily concede its an interesting weay to more clearly link the sources of racism and their effects. However, Serrano also admits to some trepidation about whether or not collectors would buy these–after all, they might not like the potential message a photo of a Klan wizard on their wall would convey. “I wondered if there would be any kind of conflict for the collectors. Someone pointed out to me that it wasn’t pictures of Klansmen or homeless people that were being collected—they are Serranos, so the subject matter is secondary.” I’ll admit this can be read several ways–a person can write a good book about an evil character–but it also can be interpreted that the inherent value of the art doesn’t matter, just that the photo can be verified as a Serrano.
A couple things:
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Art is always a reflection of society itself. Always. People don’t always like that reflection they see, but art can be nothing else. Artists aren’t removed from society; they are as much part of it as football players, homeless people, blue-collar workers, wealthy stock owners, or any other group of people.
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The charge of pretentiousness (pretense: professing to have knowledge, experience, or ability you do not actually have) sticks far more readily and accurately to a lot of the armchair critics than it does to the artists themselves. One wonders, for example, whether Lust4Life could stuff any more empty-headed clichés into a single post. I suspect not. How can one not relish a malapropism like “irregardless” mashed in with gems of wisdom such as “emperor’s clothes,” “true genius,” “tail wagging the dog,” not to mention a botched attempt at a reference to Roman history. You want pretense, here’s case study #1.
Regardless, sure, some artists are pretentious as all hell, but at least they’re trying to make art. That requires courage, imagination, and willingness to take risks and expose vulnerability to the public. Armchair critics take no such risks, require no such courage, and need (and usually display) no such imagination.
Finally, being an artist myself (well, actually, a composer), I have at times dived into these debates, but the time comes when I realize it is far more important for me to create art than to sit around arguing about it. So, I will now bow out of this thread, but will follow it with interest.
Coincidentally, tonight is the premiere of my first composition for symphony orchestra.
Can you defend this further? (I ask sincerely.)
Big Congratulations to you!! 
Since ancient times, artists have been patronized by ruling classes to develop public works of art. I also know for a fact that copies of famous statues and wall paintings were routinely made for upper and even equestrian-class Roman homes (ruins at Pompeii confirm this). The impressive artistic remains at European cathedrals also show that public knowledge of certain, expected forms of art.
It is true that a lot of art from the past was, as Pocaccho notes, “made for the private enjoyment of the superwealthy.” However The Uffizi has been open to visitors by request since the 1500’s (though not completely open to the public), the British Museum has been open to the public since the mid 19th century, and the Louvre since the French Revolution. In the case of the Uffizi, though perhaps not open to the entire public, it certainly exposed a huge class of people beyond the “superwealthy” to Renaissance masterpieces; I suspect other collections of the age received similar treatment.
Aside from Gothic religious art - which is a whole different thing in my opinion - I’m not yet sure that what you describe is that different from today.
Pompeiians had wall paintings in their homes. We have film & television & Van Gogh reprints in our homes. We have tons of museums, well-attended. We have coffee table art books up the wazoo.
(Aside: Isn’t Pompeii thought to be a fairly wealthy city & maybe not representative of the empire?)
Though I don’t think there’s much call to keep this thread alive, I thought you may be interested in more details on Pompeii and Roman painting.
Wall paintings have been found in nearly every home in Pompeii, and archaeology finds a blend of classes thought to be typical of the empire. From the cited article:
While Pompeii was something of a resort town, Herculaneum was more working class, and ever here murals are common. (BTW if you ever visit Naples and take the train to Pompeii, take a few hours to stop in Erculano. Though smaller, it is far better preserved in parts–I saw wooden screens and a windlass that were scorched but easily recognizable–and far less crowded).
Regarding panel paintings, these were more likely to fall into the hands of the upper class. However the Fayum portraits are well known, and Pliny the Elder (book 35; no translation on-line) gives plenty of evidence regarding the practices of ancient painters; one amusing example:
Art criticism is a waste of atmosphere. I like many types of so-called “modern art”, but am not certain why and I am certainly not going to try to justify myself to anyone else, or judge why some art is more worthy than other art. Bleah.
The only thing worse than criticizing art is criticizing literature. Literary criticism makes me cringe, and is the best explanation yet for the meme “When I hear the word culture, I reach for my revolver”. I am horrified that people spend years studying literary criticism in school, and thank the stars above that I studied chemistry. There is little doubt that two people will observe roughly the same thing if they mix together hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide!
The problem with interpretive problems in anything is that we’re not machines running identical copies of software. Two things save us: first, humans have some instinct for sublime expression that is shaped by the reactions of others, and second, there is always one person amongst the adoring crowd who is thinking “Boy, is that crap!” 
But is there anyone besides me who looks at a Rothko and feels a sort of ultrasonic hum?
Or is my meatware buggy?
I really like that analogy.
So, art should ‘speak’ to you, unless it doesn’t? I don’t think you can make a statement like that and still stand behind the opinion that some things are art and others aren’t.
Eh, I don’t know. I’ve sat through many an English course with people who clearly did not know how to read or interpret various writings. It’s true that there are probably many conclusions one can draw from any given work, but being able to tie those conclusions to the work itself is what criticism is about.
I agree with this. If the guy’s goal was “put statues in various bodily fluids. I kinda dig religious iconography, so I’ll try using some crucifixes,” then he ‘succeeded’ in doing what he set out to do, but there’s nothing to differentiate it from any other action a person might do to satisfy his/her own desires.
Of course, no one has mentioned context yet, which I think is an important part of this question. Many works receive attention or are valued more because of who the artist is, what conditions he or she might have been working in, or any number of things that are not directly related to the physicalness of the art itself. Can context imbue an otherwise questionable work of art(?) with validity? Is Piss Christ art because of the cultural response to it, and not because of the artists’ own mundane fascination (let’s put statue A into liquid B)?
Except that with literature, at least everyone can partake simultaneously. I can’t discuss Piss Christ because I’ve never actually seen it.
I think that a lot can be learned about visual art through critiques, but the point of a critique isn’t “Is this any good?”. Value judgements aren’t the point. There are two questions to ask in critiquing art: “What was the artist trying to do?”, and “What is my visual experience?” Whether the artist’s goals and your experience are worthwhile to you is entirely personal, as you said.
tdn has been asking for critiques of his work and several of us obliged. A couple of people remarked that our comments helped them “see” more.
It really irks me, personally, when people worry overmuch about art being “good” or “bad”. How could art be so simplistic in an age when everything is ambiguous - our President is a recovering alcoholic, our country’s “attempts to instill Democracy” in Iraq may be just a way of grabbing oil, and our wonderful leisure-class conveniences and toys are wrecking the planet. We don’t live in a black/white world, with simple rules. As soon as God died, art became a free-for-all. It had to.
More pragmatically, I think the good/bad mentality fosters self-consciousness in adult art students, who are in a big rush to succeed at making something look “real”. I don’t know if it’s because they had mean teachers in school, or because they want an immediate return on their investment in supplies. But when I taught, I ran into student after student who couldn’t see and didn’t want to learn the difference between this and this .
I think this accounts for at least part of the popular lack of respect for Modern Art. MA relies a lot more on concept and interpretation than prior forms that rely on technical skill in producing an image from paint or stone.
We respect people who do things we don’t believe we can do. The guy who can hit a ball 450 feet, or pole vault 6 meters in the air, or ski downhill at breakneck speed gets respect, or at least we acknowledge their achievement. The guy who can sweep a curling stone into juuuust the right spot to win Gold, he’s a fool with a broom.
Piling together discarded junk, putting a plastic cross into a jar of pee, splashing paint onto a canvas, or hanging a bunch of orange fabric in Central Park, that’s just not seen as being difficult enough to warrant respect. I can pee in a jar and buy a cross in a thrift store, my five year old can fling paint around, but I can’t paint a snow covered cottage as well as Thomas Kincade. :barf:
Piet Mondrian and Bridget Riley and the wiseguys who invented perspective were all doing something they could get wrong. It’s entirely possible to imagine every one of them discarding canvases and hastily erasing or painting over things because one part or another is objectively incorrect. Steven Hawking, of course, is operating in a field where it’s a lot easier to get things wrong, but that’s just points on a scale.
Did Jackson Pollock ever get anything wrong in one of his paintings? How about Cy Twombly? If so, they went to great extents to hide the fact it was even possible. If not, how can their art be said to be a skilled craft?
You can divorce meaning from art. That’s all subjective anyway, and the various Post-cults (Postmodernism, Poststructuralism, Posttoastyism) have taught us just how subjective it can be. When you divorce craft from art people get confused.
Well, if you look at the evolution of his art, it suggests that he found his early work lacking, and continued to look for better, simpler ways of expressing his message.
This is a helpful way of seeing his work, since the people give it a sense of scale.
fessie: Indeed. And Pollock did make somewhat conventional art through his career, so it’s clear he had the draftsmanship ability to paint things that weren’t random drippings of paint. However, few people know that, and Pollock is never presented as the artist behind Stenographic or even Number 7, 1951. He’s always associated with Autumn Rhythm, which most people would be hard pressed to tell from Lavender Mist or a particularly determined cat.
Compare the webcomics xkcd and Toothpaste For Dinner, both of which are widely accepted by other webcomic artists and quoted by others in the medium. They’re both composed of stick figures, but Randall Munroe, the artist behind xkcd, is obviously capable of just about anything. The guy behind Toothpaste For Dinner, apparently only known as Drew, is seemingly drawing at his peak ability when he makes TFD webcomics. If someone were to say Drew and Munroe were both of exactly the same caliber as artists, he’d better start defining his terms real quick (or find some of Drew’s work that looks nothing like TFD).
Compare Pollock to Wassily Kandinsky: he is grouped in with Pollock and he apparently influenced Pollock, but he created works that show much more technical skill than any Pollock I’ve seen. Even Kandinsky’s most abstract art seems more crafted than Pollock’s most representational.
Hmmm, I don’t think he was trying to exercise technical skill or craft – I think he was trying to blow people’s minds. I’m no expert on Pollock or anything, but I have seen some of his work in person, and I think it does merit the respect he’s given. I think there’s a lot of “there” there. Plus I’ve tried to do non-representational work at times, and it’s hard! It’s much tougher to get it right because you don’t have landmarks to hang it on.
One of Pollock’s pieces, I can’t remember which one (might not even be one of the better-known) felt exactly like it does when you’re standing on a busy corner in a noisy city. I could hear it. That’s just one reaction, though, not the “right” one or anything.
And you know what, I don’t begrudge anyone saying that Modern Art (posttoastyism, bwahaha) doesn’t give them what they want, what they’re looking for. That’s a perfectly legitimate response, really. Not everybody likes Chinese food or country music, either. I remember going from the Smithsonian’s National Gallery to its Modern collection, in that other building with the big skylight, and it just felt sooo…cold. Cold and industrial, like my humanity was no longer needed. I felt reduced. For me, on that day, it was very offputting.
I looked at those comics - very interesting. I agree that the one is more complex, although I’m not in any position to have an Opinion, comics aren’t something I’ve looked at all that closely.
Made me miss Berke Breathed, though.
I’m curious exactly how far you take this philosophy. Is it a waste of time to say, for example, “I like that painting”? It is a waste of time to explain why? If not, what’s the essential difference between that and art or literary criticism? At what point does all this become horrifying to you?
Maybe I’m missing your point, here, but the above appears to be a defence of art and literary criticism, not a dismissal of it.