In that case, you’re not an art lover, you’re a speculator like the guy who doesn’t care about comic books or beanie babies but buys them thinking he can make money off those that do.
Can’t I be both? Something Something Earl Warren?
What if he pays it because he honestly believes it’s fine art, and when quizzed about it can coherently and succinctly describe what the piece says to him and the merits thereof?
In other words, who exactly is getting scammed here? The TV preacher, he’s quite often shown to be a liar–and there’s a huge, huge difference between a Jerry Falwell and a Benny Hinn or Harold Camping here. You’re arguing that artist who made that can is a Harold Camping–but how? How has he misrepresented the piece in any way?
If there is 0% orange juice in a glass of water, I’m not the one “failing to see that it is orange juice”, no matter how many beverage experts say that they consider it orange juice. The glass of water is the one failing to rise to the level of being considered orange juice.
What if he pays tens of thousands of dollars for an astrology chart, honestly thinking it’s scientific, and he can offer clever and superficially convincing rationalizations for insisting that it’s scientific? Should the chart therefore be considered science and something that should be viewed with respect by scientists and the general public? After all, at one time astrology really was a science, an attempt by educated men to understand the world in which they lived working within the limits imposed upon them by time and place, and it involved some degree of mathematics and astronomy–so, in a very broad sense, someone could insist that astrology is technically a science. But it’s a bad, outdated science, and those who take astrology seriously are showing extremely bad judgment, no matter how eloquently they defend their belief in astrology. Since astrologers and their customers will not subject their theories to rigorous scientific study, it is reasonable to accuse them of corruption.
It’s the same with your cans of excrement. It’s the work of a hack–whose mediocrity would quickly be apparent to all if that “art is whatever we say it is” attitude wasn’t so prevalent in the art world today–being passed off as the work of a genius.
Are crappy analogies art?
(shrug) So what? In that case, you’re still a yahoo. Foolishness doesn’t cease to be foolishness merely because someone calls it art.
You think this is clever? Really?
Fantastic evasion.
No, I don’t think it’s clever. I didn’t claim it was clever. I was pointing out that there are loads of extremely stupid analogies floating around in this thread.
They are if they’re in a can.
Art is not science. When you can show me a set of rigorous, testable standards that would determine what is and is not art, then that analogy might make sense.
As it stands? Astrology doesn’t work for the majority…but neither, I suspect, does Picasso.
(shrug) Say what you please, the people who paid huge amounts of money for those cans of excrement. It is art only in the same sense that dirty limericks are high literature and astrology charts are scientific.
Most people don’t worship art or artists and understand that much of what is done in the name of art is foolishness born of vanity. I think that’s what’s really bothering you.
I’d agree s/he was no liar. What s/he was, was buying into the artistic version of the cult of celebrity, which these days tends to express itself as an ironic commentary on the artistic version of the cult of celebrity. An artist selling his or her own canned shit is making an obvious point about the nature of art, but when irony comes with a hefty price-tag it ceases to be ironic and in effect becomes its target.
A canned artist’s poop may have great subjective value to those who love that particular artist, or at least honour his or her name, but in the end it is naught but poop - the idea (that shit can be art in context) is ‘true but now trite’, and the idea, and the artist’s identity, are all that this “work” really consists of.
And the identity matters most. If some nobody did the same thing, nobody would care and it certainly would not be art.
Can you maybe re-write this as something that makes an ounce of sense?
Show me your rigorous, testable standards for “what art is”, please, if you’re going to make that (ridiculous) claim.
Dirty limericks ARE a form of high literature, if your definition of high literature includes structured poetry.
Why would it bother me? The closest I’ve EVER been to the art world is a part-time bass singer for a semi-pro acapella cover band.
I’m just amused that you won’t even TRY to define it, but you absolutely want to exclude things from it on your say-so.
Certainly an arguable point, but you’ve also just described Andy Warhol.
Also not arguing this point. I just don’t see how that makes something “not art”.
This, I disagree with–but I think it’s the choice of initial audience that matters the most. Any nobody COULD “get away with it”, if they chose the right sales pitch and gallery owner to lay it on.
…and?
Maybe this is another example of Sturgeon’s law, but I wonder how much current art will be worth remembering in 500 years. Longevity, to me, is the mark of great art.
The best analysis of this seems to me to be via the idea of memes. If an art piece survives hundreds of years, its memetic fitness will be very, very high. And if a meme is very fit, it means it has very strong psychological appeal to whoever preserves it, as well as means of transmitting itself so that others down the line will also find it appealing. Art that is radical or unconventional may hit the jackpot and find a new combination of elements that appeal to people in a way such that it still holds value in 500 years, but it may also wither and die with the niche that sustained it. Pushing people’s buttons may gain you notoriety, but it won’t necessarily gain you longevity.
Music, film and literature that has demonstrated high, sustained memetic fitness (e.g. Dark Side of the Moon, The Wizard of Oz, The Lord of the Rings, etc.), as well as pieces such as The Persistence of Memory by Salvidor Dali or Relativity by M.C. Escher seem to me to have the best shot at going the distance–they have multigenerational, mainstream appeal. Shit in a can? Not so much.
It’s probably been done. You get this crap at the Turner Prize exhibitions all the time - the guy whose exhibit consists of an empty room with a light that goes on and off. It pisses me off too. The problem (well, one of many) with conceptual art is that often the concept being expressed is an interesting and valid one, but once it’s been expressed it’s spent. 4’33" made a valid point in its time. Someone else making the same point now is a derivative wanker.
And I agree that time will sort out the meaningful works from the dross. Dig into any historical period and you’ll find geological layers of popular musical works that in hindsight are second-rate background music. Even in recent times this is so - for example, Edmund Rubbra was cranking out vast amounts of symphonies in the mid-20th century, and where is he now? (Well, dead since 1986 but you know what I mean.) And yet consider how 4’33", written around the same time, endures…
“Orange Juice” is not a wholly subjective social construct. “Art” is.