1. An Introduction to Visual Art - Keys to Understanding

 “Art is a three letter word for how to disappoint your parents.” – Stephen Colbert

One of the funny things about art is you often hear people say they don’t know anything about it. I’ve heard this from people who speak several languages, and understand such topics as law, physics, and computer science––as if art could ever be as difficult as that!

But, people say it, mostly because it feels safe. There’s no way to offend anyone, and it keeps them from having to think about it. None of these people notice the contradiction when they pick out furniture, flowers, dishes, the clothes they're wearing, and cosmetics all based on aesthetic principles. And they usually have no problem discussing some forms of art. This painting here is pretty easy to understand:

Keene Valley, Adirondacks, by John Lee Fitch

and this:

Two Little Girls, by Frank Benson, 1903

 

Just by looking, you can see that someone must've asked Benson, "Look, I've got these two cute little girls, and I'd like you to paint their portrait. Can you do it?" And Benson said, "Okay." In the back of his head he thought, "I have to make these girls look good so it's acceptable to the customer, but I also have to design a pleasing composition with a good sense of light and a winning color scheme, so I will keep the respect of my peers and any critics who really know about art." And this is what he did––a challenge no doubt, but conceptually simple.

The problem most people have starts with Modernism, with its many strange and confusing movements:

Composition with Material Objects, by Nathan Altman, 1920

 

(not to mention post-modernism, which is a whole other can of... let's say worms).

Artist's Shit, by Piero Manzoni, 1961

 

People wonder, “What was the artist thinking?"

Human Concretion, by Jean Arp, 1935

 

What was the goal of this?

Seated Woman on a Bench, by Willem de Kooning, 1972

 

I guess it symbolizes something, but what?

I have no idea who made this, sorry!

 

Sometimes there are answers from the artist - some are quite rational, while others are not.

Sometimes there aren't any answers or explanations. Often, the discussion about the artwork becomes more important than the work itself. This approach to art making has become standard in much of the contemporary art world.

Here’s the good news:

1. You don’t have to like every artwork you see. No one does. Looking at art’s like ordering from a menu. Not everything you find will be palatable.

2. If someone thinks less of you because you don’t like an artwork, it’s their problem, not yours. Ignoring snooty people is one of the many important steps towards finding happiness.

3. You don’t have to read all the text to appreciate an artwork. You can read the accompanying text, and it will probably enhance your understanding of the work - but don't feel you have to. If the artwork doesn't seem worth your time, that's entirely justified. Any work of art should be able to stand alone without explanation.

I remember going to a gallery and seeing a giant pool of bubbling mud.

Mud Muse, by Robert Rauschenberg, 1971

The bubbles would burst, and if you got too close, some of the mud would get on your clothes. I wondered, “Why? What does it mean? What does it symbolize? What makes this bubbling mud a good idea, worth putting in a museum?” And I asked the coed who came with me. Her response was, "If you're going to speak so loud, I'm leaving." The notion of even asking such questions was taboo––we were supposed to act like we already knew the answers.

There’s a very simple answer, central to understanding art: the vat of mud was made because the artist thought it would be a good idea - he got a kick out of it. The museum agreed to show it because they thought that would be a good idea (and because of the artist’s name). It’s as simple as that.

 

People are crazy, and they get crazy ideas. It happens all the time.

People going along their daily lives get an idea in their head,

and it seems so great that it becomes an obsession,

Age of Light, a Lego spaceship by ROOK

a compulsion,

Don Silverstein, painting with a mop

 

so they feel it has to be made,

This is made from toothpicks, that's all I know...

 

it has to be done,

that the world will somehow be better for it––no matter how ridiculous

or stupid

or dangerous the idea.

Dean Potter, risking his life for 15 minutes of fame

People are crazy. All of us.

Why are people so crazy? Well, I’m no psychologist, but I would venture that part of it is the stress we all experience, living in a world that is completely insane. It's bonkers. Look at all that we have to deal with:

storms...

lightning...

tornadoes...

lightning tornadoes...

fire tornados...

volcanoes...

war...

sickness, death, the platypus.

It’s too much to handle.

Just consider for a moment, since 1950 the world has been on the brink of nuclear war, and the decision––with so many innocent lives in the balance, has lain in the hands of two world powers who were never well equipped to make good decisions––and this stand off is still ongoing! Or consider our planet is just one tiny speck in a galaxy of stars, surrounded by black holes, headed on a collision course with the Andromeda galaxy. We have no idea when another celestial object or a massive gamma ray may smash into us. In short, we live in a stressful world.

This requires us to think creatively, to find humor in the absurdities, the pain, and even the brutality of life. To detach from it, to ignore it, to live in a bubble of our own making. We know these reactions are silly, but we do it anyway––it's a survival mechanism. As Seal once sang, "We're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy." No matter how intelligent or wise we sometimes feel, we're simple creatures. Our world continually breaks us, knocks us down, brings us to tears. Ask yourself why people get drunk at parties, start smoking, go skydiving, or get tattoos. As with art, it comes down to one simple answer––we feel compelled to.

Art is a human response to an inhuman world.

As the French filmmaker, Jean Cocteau said, "The reward of art is not fame or success, but intoxication: that is why so many bad artists are unable to give it up."

That’s not to say these things are morally equivalent, obviously, but we’re not discussing morals. We're discussing human needs. The key to understanding art is to understand its purpose. As Stephen Kings says, “Life isn’t a support system for art. It’s the other way around.”  And, as Shakespeare once said, "The object of Art is to give life a shape." Art is how we make our world a little more tolerable, reasonable, logical, and pleasing for the short amount of time we inhabit it.

Rauchenberg's mud vat might have an interesting rationale behind it, it might even make sense once you hear it. But that doesn't mean he wasn't crazy. 

 

All artists are crazy, no matter what they make. 

The guy who painted this:

was just as crazy as the guy who painted this:

Portrait of Dorian Gray, by Ivan Albright

and this guy:

by Bjarne Melgaard

and this guy:

The Ugly Duchess, by Quentin Matsys

You might not think it, but if you saw all the work and sacrifice that Benson made––that every artist makes, the level of obsession, to get to his level of mastery, then you'd understand.

So, the next time you go to a museum, and you see something puzzling, gruesome or otherwise unsettling, just remember, the person who made it is just the artistic equivalent of your neighborhood geek: the one who collects a zillion model planes or Coke bottles. That artist made it because she simply thought it was a good idea at the time, that it was smart, that it would keep her occupied, to keep life's woes at bay, and to give her life meaning, at least for a little while. And so, she felt compelled.

It's easy to say that artists are crazy, that's the stereotype. Everyone knows about Van Gogh cutting his ear off. But, in reality, 

we're all crazy, including you. 

Artists simply make good use of it. We explore it, and enjoy the process. You should try it too. You might like it. It might make your whole life more fulfilling and worthwhile.

 

But, wait a minute! what is art?

 

That's entirely up to you. If you feel a vat of mud is art, then it is––to you. If you think it isn’t, then it isn’t––to you. Some people dislike this, but that’s how it is. I discuss historical definitions of art and how they've changed here, but no one definition is more "right" than another (although some see it that way. A lot of people make a religion out of what they consider art and not art). But with language, some words have a fixed meaning, like cake, shoe, and cat. And, some words (in a free society) are left open to interpretation––things like love, human rights, symbols like the US Flag, and art. You can decide for yourself what these terms mean, and you can change your mind whenever you want, and society benefits from this constant reflection.

Note, words may seem fixed, just like the sea floor seems motionless. But, with time lapse photography, we see it’s really changing all the time:

It's the same with language. It evolves and changes as we do. And even such a simple idea as a shoe is often reinvented:

It's come a long way from what we used to wear 10,000 years ago in the ice age:

So, that's the lesson. Remember that all art is a human endeavor, with all the same motivations, hopes, and aspirations as any other human enterprise. Some art may seem strange or confusing to you, or outright awful. It's worth pausing to consider why it was made and what it means. The answers may be intelligent, intriguing, and enlightening. Or they might be stupid. The main thing is that it was made, and, in doing so, it made the world a better place, at least for the artist who made it.