Sunday, November 14, 2010

On her blog, Katie asked,

Can a person create art with no formal background?

It's very possibly to create art without formal education in it (ie, drawing or painting classes, art theory, color theory), although it may be harder to learn. Drawing is an art, and is not all that difficult to improve at without classes. I've never taken a drawing class, but I enjoy drawing, so I do it very frequently, and I've gotten fairly good as a result. Arts like writing and drawing are often interesting to people because "anyone can do them", in that you probably have all the skills you need to at least make an attempt. However, for other arts, a formal background could be necessary. You wouldn't want to try glassblowing for the first time on your own -- If you breathe wrong while blowing glass, you can permanently damage your lungs. It's also very easy to burn your arms or fingers, and the glass itself must be heated and cooled specific ways to stop it from cracking.

You don't need a degree or a formal background to make art or have an artistic concept, but some forms of art require a teacher.

Is it better to have a teacher, or let your skills develop organically?

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Weitz's theory of art as indefinable is not a particularly useful or helpful suggestion for the purposes of debate. However, there is something attractive about it. I think we all have the feeling that we know art already. I certainly feel that I can tell if I'm looking at art when it's in front of me. If you asked, though, I couldn't give a description of how I know. It's just something I feel.

Weitz's theory is interesting if nothing else, because rather than try to define art, it suggests we just forget about that. Defining art does not help to create art; better to just get on with it. His chapter in the book seems almost like an intrusion, though. There's not much point in saying that art is indefinable in a book which tries to catalouge different ways to look at art. Well, there is, because his opinion deserves to be heard and he has some fair points, but it seems to have been included only for posterity's sake. Obviously very few people reading the book are going to take his opinions seriously. The book seems designed to encourage debate, whereas his chapter really seems to suggest that the debate will never lead anywhere, and we should move on. It's contradictory to the concept that the book was based on.

Is it important for artists to know what is art and what is not, or how to define art? Will it help make them into better artists, or can they succeed just as well without thinking about it? How relevant is the philosophy of art to the appreciation of art?

Saturday, October 30, 2010

I'm responding to Katie's post, where she asked,

...judging art is an impossible thing, so what do we think we will gain from it?"

I see criticism as an important part of an artist's process. While it can be painful to have someone criticize your work, it's also helpful. Most artists, when they work, are trying to convey something, whether it's a story, emotion, or idea. However, these things take a lot of thought and effort. It's easy for the artist to get too caught up in their own head and begin to think that their message is obvious, when to an outsider there is no rhyme or reason to the piece. Critics take an important role by helping to improve the artist's work long-term.

It's not possible to improve yourself as an artist without taking some criticism. Even if you feel cruel for criticizing someone's work, if the advice you offer is legitimate and helpful, you're most likely doing them a favor.

Could art get along without criticism? (I don't think so, but I'd like to know if anyone else does.)

Sunday, October 24, 2010

What Is "Body Art"?

I'm responding to Katie's blog post about liposuction as a form of body art. I am personally a big fan of body modding, although scarification and branding don't appeal to me at all. I think tattoos are a legitimate art form. I especially like the ones at Contrariwise, a website (And Alice in Wonderland reference!) for literary tattoos. Tattoos are beautiful because they have so much meaning to the people who get them, and because they are both a permanent and very temporary art form. Any parent will tell you that a tattoo is forever, but humans don't make for enduring canvas.

That said, I can't really see plastic surgery as an art form. It isn't making someone beautiful -- it's changing them to make them fit into the shape society says they should be. Tattoos are a celebration of individuality, where plastic surgery tries to get everyone to fit into a single mold.

Body art is sometimes rejected for being too much of a change or for being a "mutilation" of the body you were born with. Other people just don't think it's worth the pain. I think body art is beautiful because you have to really want it in order to get it, and because it can be so simple yet so dramatic. Even simple metal studs make for interesting and beautiful piercings.

Does it matter if something is good or bad for you, as long as it's art? What would you sacrifice or go through for art?

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Freud has always seemed like more of a case study than a psychologist to me, so while I enjoy reading his work, I can't fully ascribe to what he says. I think the main reason for this is that many of Freud's theories seem extremely tenuous. In the textbook, for example, Freud says that Leonardo da Vinci based the Mona Lisa's smile on his mother's smile, because da Vinci once recounted a dream (Freud claims it to be a fabricated memory) about being chased by a vulture. This dream supposedly symbolized da Vinci's reliance on his mother rather than his father. I have difficulty seeing how these two things are supposed to relate to each other, or how Freud could know that da Vinci invented a dream to summarize his relationship with his parents. It's true that a lot of people live in the shadow of their parents. Your upbringing affects you in minor and major ways throughout your entire life. However, I don't think this is how it comes out. It seems to me like Freud is looking for meaning in all the wrong places, and is very quick to assume the worst in people.

Is it possible for something in your past to unintentionally pop up in your art?

Does our past play that large a role in our basic life?

Sunday, October 3, 2010

On her blog, Sarah asked:

How does Minimalism continue to thrive without a point, or with a point that's been made many times already?

I would like to respond by saying that minimalism is not necessarily expending the minimum amount of effort on something. Instead, it's paring something down to its essentials and showing what really makes a piece of art work. Minimalism can exist in any art form. For example, Ernest Hemingway famously wrote a six-word short story. "For sale: Baby shoes, never worn." This is a minimalistic story. It's been stripped down to six words. However, it takes a lot of work to write a six-word story. Forcing yourself to cut out every nonessential detail and allow the reader to make their own assumptions takes a lot of time and thought.

Minimalism really forces the viewer to draw their own conclusions and think a piece of art through. It gives them space to make what they will of the piece. Aesthetically, it can be very beautiful, but beyond that, I do think it has a place in the art world.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

I like Tolstoy's argument that all art is emotion. Art is important in part because it allows us to experience other people's emotions, see things from their perspective, and get a different view on an issue. Looking at a painting by someone else and being moved to any emotion by it indicates that the art is moving and that the viewer is sympathetic, and sympathy is a basic human trait, one which we need to survive as a race.

Art as pure emotion seems rare. Even abstract painters are not necessarily pouring their feelings straight onto the canvas. That doesn't mean that art can't hold an incredible amount of emotion in it. We ascribe emotions to the people in paintings we see, we notice the mood of it, we even notice the color palate as it relates to the feel of the painting. Sometimes we don't realize we're doing these things, but do them anyway.

I agree with Tolstoy in part. I think that there is always emotion behind art, and that art should be inclusive rather than exclusive. However, I don't think the artist always intends for the emotion to be there. It may happen by accident, or because the artist is trying for one mood but is in another. The emotion a painting evokes in you might not always be the one intended.

Is art still successful if it doesn't make you feel what the artist intended? When is art unsuccessful?

Sunday, September 19, 2010

"It's hopeless. I can hear all this great music in my head but my stupid hands can't keep up."
– Phillip J Fry.

Plato's idea of an “imitation of an imitation” strikes a chord with me because of a memory I have from childhood. As a kid, I had a lot of artistic friends and influences. I was really enthralled with the way certain people managed to make completely fantastic things with just a pencil and paper. One of my first babysitters, Jen, was an art student and a good teacher. She was one of the first people to tell me that all I needed to create art was practice. She got me canvases from The Art Store and let me use her oil paints.

I still have the biggest painting I did with her, which is: A unicorn jumping through the air in front of three giant flowers. There is possibly a stream on the ground. It's not a very good picture. I remember constantly being frustrated at that age because my idea of what good art was did not match up with my personal ability to create it. I had, well... stupid hands.

That's my strongest memory of that type of frustration, but of course it still happens to me all the time. I can imagine what I want to draw, but my hands can't always put it onto paper. I dream about writing something beautiful and then can't remember what I was trying to say. It's mostly annoying because it makes you really aware of how your talent stacks up against your expectations, so you're constantly disappointed in yourself.

I took Plato's idea to mean that there's nothing more pure than a concept, and that all concepts are changed in execution.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Every person experiences a work of art differently, and so it follows that every person also has their own take on what art they prefer and what qualifies something as art. Personally, I like for art to make me feel something, whether it makes me crack a smile, tear up, or evokes a sense of wonder. Art that can accomplish this has always stood out to me as very powerful because the artist has taken tools that, generally, anyone has access to, and has used these simple tools to make me feel something complex and personal. However, I know that my opinion is biased, and in order to discuss art with anyone whose opinion might be different, I have to broaden my view of what art, at its core, is. To me, the idea of intentionality seems like a bad fit. It gives a free pass to anyone with an inflated ego while discounting natural beauty and the artistry of everyday life.
In the end, no two people can see art identically. Looking at and appreciating art isn't really a shared experience, because no two people experience it in the same way. Instead, every viewer is going one on one with the artist.

In your opinion, is all art a private experience?