A fascinating debate. We’ve discussed this question before (e.g., there was a GD thread a year or so ago in which somebody seriously asserted that nonrhyming verse is not poetry), but never with this much direct focus.
Although I agree that debating art vs. non-art is rather pointless, I’m going to ignore myself and address the question of why a urinal in a museum qualifies as art.
A urinal in a bathroom is a functional object. You walk up to it without really seeing it, you pee in it, you flush (or don’t), and walk away. If you were asked, ten minutes later, to identify which of a lineup of similar urinals was the one you pissed in, you would likely be hard-pressed to pick it out. As far as you’re concerned, the object barely registered above your threshold of recognition; you saw it just enough to pee in it, and no more.
Now take the same urinal and put it on a pedestal in a gallery. Most people will be perplexed by it, and call the artist a prankster, and the attempt at art “bad” and “empty.” It isn’t immediately obvious what the artist is saying, or why the urinal is being so displayed. Because it isn’t immediately obvious, it’s easy to dismiss.
But if you pause to really ask yourself why with your mind open, a whole universe of possibilities is revealed.
First of all, who’s to say that the form of the urinal is any more or less aesthetically pleasing than a similarly abstract form? Consider, for example, the epic shapes produced by Henry Moore. They don’t represent anything. They’re just big and solid, and their designs don’t have any more literal meaning than does the form of the urinal, removed from its function. Certainly an approximation can be derived; as I recall, Man Ray’s Fountain urinal looks vaguely like a uterus. Doesn’t mean that’s the intended meaning, or even a significant one, but the comparison can be made.
Then continue asking why one should examine the physical form of the urinal when it’s sitting on a pedestal in a museum, but not when it’s hanging on the wall of an airport restroom. Isn’t it possible to walk into that restroom and examine the form of the urinals? And the sinks, and the window, and the color of the floor tile? Isn’t it possible to find beauty in unexpected places?
And therefore, isn’t it conceivable that by placing a urinal on a pedestal, the artist is saying something important about how we interact with and perceive the world? Why shouldn’t we look for intellectual and/or aesthetic beauty outside of a museum? There’s a set of freeway connectors and overpasses on I-405 northeast of Seattle that I find utterly extraordinary, intermeshing ribbons of concrete and steel that swoop through the air with apparent disregard for their enormous mass. Why are they any less valid a creation than some other example of architecture, one that’s specifically made to be looked at and admired, like, say, the Guggenheim in Spain? Even if they were made with the purely functional intent of simply moving traffic from point A to point B, am I somehow wrong to find them fascinating and, yes, even beautiful?
Man Ray’s Fountain is not glibly asking us to regard an object as a piece of art merely because it’s in a museum. It is asking us to perceive the beauty and art around us regardless of whether it’s in a museum – and, indeed, especially if it isn’t. The artist perceives a deep truth about the way we as humans examine and label the world, and he uses a urinal to make us think about it.
How on earth is that not art?
