It wasn’t just liking, it is a reaction. Miller said it better in his post. The greatness of art comes from an interaction with the audience.
Thank you for the book suggestion, I’m always on the lookout for something to read. I’ll pick up a copy ASAP.
It’s a fun read, even though it skewers my favorite era of art: abstract expressionism. It’s more a send-up of critics and “tastemakers” than the artists themselves, but it’s Tom Wolfe at his best, which I appreciate. If you’ve already got a sour taste when it comes to the “modern” art he’s writing about (which is now over a half century old), you’ll absolutely adore this book.
I see your point, but then there’s the belief:Esse est percipi (aut percipere) - to be is to be perceived (or to perceive)
It often seems that this message board has a lot of STEM guys who recognized the undeniable beauty found in math and science, and then apply that aesthetic to art. So you prefer Bach to Stravinsky, Escher to Gauguin. And that’s fine: that’s how you’ve cultivated your tastes. (Thank you for cultivating it, since the average person doesn’t make much of any effort). And there is indeed a bunch of science and technology in all the arts. But that’s not all it encompasses. When humans make art, they’re bringing meaning to their feelings, good and terrible, profound and frivolous, so as to place value on human experience.
The Mona Lisa is great art, no? But it’s really easy to comprehend: It’s a picture of a pretty lady sitting in front of a window. I can get that from it at a glance. I can’t get nearly that proportion of understanding from an Escher piece at the same glance.
Frankly, I don’t really understand why the Mona Lisa is considered “great.”
I’m trying to fine-tune what I wrote yesterday and add a few things inspired by what’s been posted since.
Art has both objective and subjective value.
Art is first of all a set of patterns (words on a page, brushstrokes and colours on a canvas, notes played by an instrument). Great Art contains patterns that are so numerous and so complex that you cannot grasp them all the first time you encounter it, nor the second or the third time. That’s its objective value: the amount of information it contains. In the case of Great Art the amount of information is huge.
Then, we humans have a tendency to attribute signification to patterns, we want them to make sense. Great Art will elicit many such responses, it will convey philosophical, spiritual, emotional, religious, social, political, historical and countless other meanings. People from different cultural backgrounds and from different eras will derive different significations from it. That’s its subjective value.
So the recipe for Great Art is: huge amounts of complex information that can be interpreted in an infinite number of meaningful ways.
That is, you understand the technical foundations of Escher’s works better, which is nice but I think that you put too much emphasis on its relationship to advanced mathematics. As a matter of fact, it’s only one tiny part of what makes a work great.
What about its spiritual, emotional or philosophical implications? Well, in that respect, there’s nothing in Escher’s oeuvre that you cannot get the first time you see it. It’s a technical tour de force that makes you think a little… that’s it. It certainly doesn’t elicit much of an emotional response nor a social or political commentary. A philosophical or spiritual reflection? Probably but as far as I’m concerned, it’s more or less the same as the one I had 25 years ago. Certainly a little bit deeper but definitely along the exact same lines. No new insight there.
Ah yes, ignorance is bliss…
The easy response: but her smile is so mysterious. One could write a book on that smile. And someone else could find an even deeper subtlety to the smile and write another book.
But it leads to an equally damning point: ambiguity is not a replacement for depth. You aren’t necessarily unraveling infinite layers put there by the artist; the artist simply didn’t put in enough information and the viewer is providing the rest. It’s basically pareidolia writ large.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing; there’s some value in art that forces the viewer to come up with an interpretation. I just don’t think that it means there’s any actual depth to the work.
Escher, of course, does have genuine depth to his work. I enjoyed the work for a long time before knowing anything about the connections to hyperbolic geometry. There are still relationships I don’t fully understand.
You can write a book about anything - especially if someone is willing to pay for it.
Nonsense. The fact that humans disagree over a subject does not make that subject entirely subjective.
The greatness is inherent in the work. It was great when it was made, and it was great when it was discovered. It dod not cease being great when it was hidden.
It is true that greatness is a human attribution - but art is a human endeavor. The recognition is that of the greatness put into the human act of creation. That can span a minute … or centuries.
Not so. Indeed, when the paitings were discovered, some of them (for example. at Altimira) were thought by some to be fakes … because they were too good.
I recommend watching Cave of Forgotten Dreams (in 3-D - best use of that media ever), which shows how the ancient artists mastered the use of the inherent qualities of the cave to enhance their art - and it is this mastery, not their great age, that makes them “great”.
Not true. If it were “entirely subjective” it would be entirely meaningless. Greatness is partly a subjective reaction, true, but it is based on objective factors - skill in use of materials, composition, originality of ideas, clarity, depth of thought, etc.
A Bach concherto is not ‘just as great’ as a Nickleback tune, even if a hundred of your friends think it is. They would, quite simply, be wrong. What isn it about modern people than some of them are so afraid of the very thought that some things might actually be better than others?
I’ve admitted to knowing little about art, but I do know a great deal about music — specifically rock and its roots.
Of course, your mind may slam shut the minute I say this with the thought that rock music can’t possibly be “art.” If so, you might as well stop reading right here (ignorance is bliss, right?).
But just in case you continue…if we apply the last sentence above to rock music, then the most complicated, complex and uber-pretentious “progressive rock” — with multitudinous key changes, polyrhythms, impenetrable lyrics, etc. must be, by default, “great art,” right? Whereas a simple song with a simple melody that has moved millions (including “critics” who are the equivalent of those in the art world) must be worthless…right?
And by extension, a work of any kind in any medium that moves you emotionally by means of its simplicity and directness can’t possibly be “art” — right?
In my world, anyway, that is the height of bullshit.
This is, quite simply, wrong. In fact, a very famous work was written on this exact topic - namely, the spiritual and philosophical implications of Escher’s work (together with the muisic of Bach and the math of Godel) (theisis in a nutshell: that human conciousness is based on paradoxes, such as how inanimate matter can understand itself, and so an understanding of paradox is inherent in understanding conciousness). I highly recommend it.
Gödel, Escher, Bach - Wikipedia
Unless of course you realized this all 25 years ago with a single glance, in which case I withdraw the comment.
That was an good post. Too bad you had to end it in a rude manner :(.
I’ll ignore that last bit because you raise some interesting questions.
My mind didn’t slam shut. I don’t know you thought it would.
No.
Remember that I said that to me Great Art has both an objective value and a subjective one? Ultra-complex prog-rock may fufill the first critieria to some extent but what about the second? Do millions of people find myriads of interpretations for the “impenetrable lyrics”? Do they get some deep political or moral insight for it? I doubt it. So it’s definitely Art but not Great Art to me.
Now, the simple two-chord song with a simple melody and simple lyrics that moves millions. Well, it’s just the opposite but the result is the same. Definitely Art. Not Great Art.
It bears repeating: a simple song IS Art. Not necessarily Great Art as I see it
And guess what? I’ll take the simple song over the prog-rock noodling anytime. In fact, there are some 20-25 songs that I cherish with all my heart. They mean an awful lot to me. That doesn’t make them Great Art however. In this sort of discussion, you have to be able to put your feelings aside and try to look for a way to categorize things as rationally as possible. That doesn’t mean you should feel ashamed to like simple songs. I certainly don’t.
I’ve thought about reading this book for years. I’ll certainly do it one day if I have the opportunity. But…
From your first post on, you’ve kept on refering to it. That makes me feel uncomfortable. Do you consider it the be-all and end-all of aesthetics? I’m sure there are lots of gems of wisdom in it (that’s why I’ve meant to read it for years) but I’m wary of basing my opinion on just one source which seems to be what you’re doing. Again, thanks for the recommendation but there are other ways of looking at Art.
As I said above, there may be philosophical and spiritual implications to derive from Escher’s works. But do you think you could draw a social, ethical or political commentary from it? I don’t think so. Additionally, they stir absolutely zero emotion in me (apart from whoa!). Is there love in there? Hatred? Sadness? Pity? Joy? No. It’s cold. Neutral. So they’re definitely works of Art, even good and original ones but also rather limited ones.
Just to set the record straight: I fear that I may come across as some sort of snob who feels he has some superior knowledge about Great Art. It’s not the case. I certainly don’t claim to have understood all there is to know about it. I’m not in awe in front of all the great artists. And I DO like quite a few silly love songs (and Escher :D). I’m just trying to come up with a rational theory (i.e. not influenced by my feelings) of what I consider Great Art. The one I’ve mentioned may be simplistic, naive, flawed, completely wrong but it works for me so far. I don’t think that I’ve stumbled upon the definitive revelation about the true nature of Great Art, I’m just giving my thoughts on the subject.
Absolutely not. The book may well be complete tosh, as far as you are concerned. Maybe even as far as I am concerned. Plenty of books about art are, and even more about philosophy. That is irrelevant to my point.
My point is to refute the notion that, just because you looked at Escher’s work and decided you knew all about it 25 years ago, it is objectively lacking in “philosophical and spiritual” content. The fact that a well-regarded book (by many - it won the Pulitzer Prize, and they don’t just hand those out in boxes of cornflakes) on exactly the topic of the spiritual and philosophical implications of Escher’s work is at least some objective evidence that there is more to it than you saw 25 years ago, right?
You are now moving the goalposts. Originally you wanted great art to have spiritual and philosophical implications. Now great art has to be a political commentary? What “political commentary” do you get from a Bach concherto or the Mona Lisa? That makes no sense at all as ‘the’ criterion of great art.
Personally, the work of Escher stirs me emotionally - it stirs my emotional reaction to the sublime. Same as Bach, for that matter. Which, to my mind, is equally “valid” as a work that stirs someone to love or hatred - maybe more so.
You are contradicting yourself somewhat here. First you said this:
“Additionally, they stir absolutely zero emotion in me (apart from whoa!). Is there love in there? Hatred? Sadness? Pity? Joy? No. It’s cold. Neutral. So they’re definitely works of Art, even good and original ones but also rather limited ones.”
Now you say this:
“I’m just trying to come up with a rational theory (i.e. not influenced by my feelings) of what I consider Great Art.”
If you want a theory that isn’t influenced by your personal feelings, why are you referencing your personal feelings as the criteria of greatness?
His work has pretty minimal emotional impact, and that IMHO precludes it from being “great” art. I think the very definition of great art is something that evokes complex emotions.
Great design, great illustration, great dorm decoration-- sure. But it’s not great art.
Disagree. Many have a strong emotional reaction to it - myself included.
"If you want a theory that isn’t influenced by your personal feelings, why are you referencing your personal feelings as the criteria of greatness? "
Of course you experience lots of feelings when you encounter a great work of art, that’s even part of my criterias to define it.
What I’m saying is that the fact that I have a soft spot for some songs must not interfere with my appraisal of its meeting (or not) the conditions for Great Art. I may like songs for nostalgic reasons, because they remind me of some events or some people but that must not influence my assessment of their value as a work of art.
I don’t think that I’m moving the goalposts.
I’ve said from the start that Great Art was open to countless interpretations. That doesn’t mean there’s necessarily a political commentary to be found in Bach. There are definitely spiritual, religious, moral, philosophical implications in his works, though plus a whole world of emotions. And probably much more than that. That’s orders of magnitudes more than what I get from Escher.
It is “open to countless interpretations” - but you demand a political commentary from Escher, but not Bach - why? It seems the very definition of goalpost-shifting.
Again, in my opinion “what I personally get out of it” is not a good guide, since it is essentially an argument from ignorance - ‘I’ may get nothing from a work, not because of the work, but because “I” don’t know enough to get anything out of it. One should be open at least to that possibility.
As for “spiritual dimensions”, I persinally see a lot about the nature of duality in Escher’s work, such as Angels and Devils.
Escher studied these patterns, which speak directly to the nature of the divine.
Can you describe the emotions involved? I am not doubting you, just hoping for a better understanding.
Awe. The sublime.