To clarify, I was talking paintings here. Call me old-fashioned but I like to be able to admire technical skill in art that I don’t have.
Having said that, I am glad I came back to this thread, as there are a lot of interesting points being made. I do get the argument about visual impact - for instance I have happily stood in front of Bridget Rileys for a long time enjoying the sensation of my eyes going funny. But these “colour field” pieces don’t quite do it for me.
If you could pass it off as possibly authentic, you’d be able to sell it for quite a bit. I’d sure give it a try if I had a kid who I thought could pull it off.
I liked looking at the little photo of the work in question. Looked for about 2 minutes.
What caught my interest was that it regularly switched between…
A very assertive white stripe on a blue background. The stripe (for me) always streamed from bottom to top, and the blue was actively “anti-representational”, because there’s basically nothing in nature that color.
A single unit. Blue field with white stripe.
Two side-by-side blue blocks with an interesting line separating them.
To me that’s not profound enough to spend $1000 on, and I don’t want that particular blue on my walls. And the visual transitions were only slightly more interesting than a book of optical illusions. I get nothing from Rothko and am generally indifferent to non-representational art. Still, I looked at the little photo for two minutes with interest.
Some people like the art of Barnett Newman. Some people like the art of Thomas Kinkade. Does this mean that there is no objective difference in the quality of Newman’s art and Kinkade’s art? It’s just a matter of personal preference and you can legitimately argue that Kinkade is a better artist than Newman if that’s the way you feel?
I would disagree. I think there are objective standards in art. Not all art is created equal. Some art is better than others. I think Kinkade and Newman are bad artists even if they have their fans.
There are no objective standards, but some people’s opinions are worth more than others. It’s presumably not coincidence that people who love Kinkade know nothing about art, and those that love Newman know a great deal about it. One could certainly argue that Kinkade is the better artist if they chose, but I doubt it would be a particularly interesting argument.
For a recent art show I was planning on submitting a color field-like abstract painting. I just couldn’t get it to work. I liked how the color looked, but the shape wasn’t right. Then I got a shape that wasn’t bad, but the color went wrong. It was a pain in the ass. This kind of non-representational artwork is hard to get right.
I gave up and painted a portrait of a young woman. It was easier, and it won 3rd place.
The style looks simple, but it takes a lot of thought and planning to make something that makes viewers’ eyes widen with awe. Maybe not every viewer, but no, an eight-year-old is never going to paint Onement VI.
By the way, each time I look at that painting, I like it more.
I can’t speak for the rest of the world. But there is a certain arrogant “dumbness” to a lot of Americans in that if they can’t do something or understand something or appreciate something, then they will mindlessly insist that it isn’t worth doing, understanding or appreciating.
So what are those “objective standards”? Number of colors? Brush strokes per sq inch? Amount of time it takes a 3 year old to paint it?
Art isn’t necessarily about painting photo-realistic images of real life. In color field paintings, the artist is trying to evoke an emotion or represent some sort of theme using only large blocks of color. His choice of using a white stripe on a blue background evokes a different emotion from a black dot on a crimson background.
^Yep. I’ve dabbled in non-representational painting, and it’s hard to make it work. I have representational drawings I could show people and be reasonably proud of but non-representational stuff? I could never get something that I was happy with. It’s hard. I find it much more difficult than drawing something “real,” where I have an easy-to-compare frame of reference to judge by.
I’ve mentioned this before, and I’ll mention it again here. I don’t know why it’s so hard for some people to understand. I’m a visual artist (photographer.) I work in quite literal representationalism. When I unwind and look at art, I get enjoyment out of not seeing reality. I want an artist to surprise me, to confuse me, to show me something I’ve never seen before and something that I couldn’t imagine. I don’t need or want “meaning” in my visual art any more than I need or want “meaning” in my music. I just want art to be. Either it impels in me a visceral reaction or it doesn’t. I love getting lost in the colors, the lines, the squiggles, the textures. I understand many don’t get the same reaction from things I like. That’s fine.
At the same time, I don’t understand why so many people like representationalism. Why would I want to look at a painting of something I can see or photograph? (I am exaggerating slightly here–I do appreciate representational painting, but I’m not particularly drawn to it.) To me, that seems rather boring. Show me something I can’t see. Show me something I haven’t imagined. That’s fun to me. That’s exciting.
That question, “How does that line do this,” is a big part of minimalism as a movement. One way to think about minimalism is as an exercise in paring down painting into discrete techniques, to see how much emotional content you can convey with as few elements as possible.
Take a look at Napoleon Crossing the Alps. Notice how Napoleon dominates the foreground, the way your eye automatically snaps to his cape. Napoleon is such a commanding presence, it takes a genuine effort to notice anything else in the picture. Now take a look at this Mondrian. That large red square dominates the foreground and demands your attention, just like Napoleon did. Except, it’s communicating those emotions purely through color and composition, without relying on any explicit imagery. Hell, that red square is clearly in the foreground of a picture that doesn’t have any foreground. It’s just flat squares, yet that red seems to almost hover off the surface.
So, with the Newman, how does a white stripe against a blue background communicate, as the Professor put it, “you are the zip and the fields represent life and the world trying to wear you down, assimilate you, make you less than you are?” Well, let me start by saying that I haven’t seen this painting in person, so I’m just going off the images I can find on the web. Consequently, I’m defending an interpretation I may not necessarily agree with - were I to see this painting in person, I might find that I have a much different reaction to it.
The first thing I notice looking at the picture is the stripe. Like Napoleon’s cape, your eye goes right to it. It’s right in the middle of the canvas, and the bright white make it pop. This feels pretty strongly like the “subject” of the painting to me. It’s pretty automatic to anthropomorphize abstract objects (Everyone sees the faces here, right?), so it’s pretty easy to view an upright line as a guy. A guy with no distinct or discernible features is kind of an everyman, a stand-in that could represent any individual, including the viewer. So, that’s how we get “you are the zip,” in the Professor’s quote.
Then there’s these two big, dark things on either side of him. I kind of go back and forth on these, whether they’re next to the stripe, or beneath the stripe. Let’s run with the idea that they’re next to it. Viewed that way, they feel constricting, like they’re squeezing the center line. The wobble in the line’s edge helps with that impression. Blue is, in general, kind of a bummer of a color, especially darker blues. The way the blue gets darker towards the border gives it more of a sense of weight. (Incidentally, getting a nice gradient like that isn’t easy. I’m not saying it’s the hardest thing in the world of painting, but all the people saying that their five year old could paint this? That gradient is the part your kid can’t paint.) They feel oppressive, almost overwhelming. It feels like two huge gloomy boulders gradually grinding away at whatever is between them. Having just returned this afternoon from a job interview I’m pretty sure I fucked up, this is resonating pretty well for me right now. That’s the “the fields represent life and the world trying to wear you down.”
Not at all a fan of color field paintings, but then I’m not a very visual person. More power to you if you like it.
But I admit that when I read something like this:
My hackles rise.
I don’t think the good Prof is endorsing this view, but it’s certainly an attitude that sometimes comes off of some fans of modern art. It’s the same kind of attitude that makes hipsters and some foodies so irritating: they’re into this thing that you won’t get, because you’re not refined enough.
Grr.
Folks in this thread aren’t saying that. They’re saying, “I love this kind of thing, but it’s subjective.” And that’s totally cool. But that’s not the only attitude associated with modern art fans, and I suspect a lot of the hostility modern art is getting in this thread is misplaced reaction to the other kind of attitude.
It’s possible. But I think this type of modern art fan is more a straw man or caricature than anything else. And this “everyday masses aren’t supposed to like it” is unadulterated bullshit. Most of the people I know who love modern art are just regular ol’ Joes and Janes–they’re not some kind of intellectual elite. Beauty is beauty.