what is art?
Posted In: colorado, Fort Collins, links, photo, theory
Comments: 9 Responses
Adrian Davis, “Trees in the Wind”, Centennial, WY, 1999
I’ve recently been having some fascinating, hilarious, and informative discussions with local photographer/artist, Adrian Davis, from the Cache Gallery. Our discussions led to “what is art, and what is just a photograph?” The answer, of course, can be fuzzy to say the least, especially if you involve the creator’s opinion. Adrian wrote what may be the closest thing to a definition of “art,” in a photography-context, that I have found:
If something (a subject) is photographed to its full representation, it cannot be art. Having complete command over ones camera equipment does not necessitate the production of art. Art is created and extracted from the representational aspects of life. It is born within the mind of the creator (artist).
Taking a photograph of an Aspen Grove with an 8×10 view camera with Fuji Veliva slide film and printing the image as a Cibachome to 8 feet by 10 feet is NOT art. It is a big fucking picture of an Aspen Grove. Once that Aspen Grove has been altered, in capture or printing, it then MIGHT become art. It has to be changed from the purely representational. Otherwise, anyone with an 8×10 view camera can take the same damn “picture.”
I’m curious to see what some of you think?
I think I agree with the gist of wait Adrian says, but don’t you think that the way a scene – say Adrian’s “Trees in the Wind” – is cropped has altered the subject from what it was – an expansive landcape – to what it is, the photographer’s vision of the scene. And that distilling of “the big picture” to the one presented is what elevates it from a snapshot to an art form? It is art because it’s composition; color, shapes, value – all work together to make it an artistic rendering of what might be considered an ordinary scene.
Hey! That “Trees in the Wind” shot is full-frame and un-cropped! It’s a nice photograph, with nice color, light, and composition. It ain’t art! It is a 100% true representation of the actual subject.
It is a recording. It is a photograph. It is not art.
I’m going to disagree.
I don’t think photography is capable of full representation. No media is. Even if you just print the photo directly, the image is still altered by your aperture and f-stop and lens, maybe even your film stock.
And even if those could be made to perfectly mimic the eye’s perspective, there’s still the fact that ALL photos are cropped. Reality is infinite, but a negative is finite. By taking a picture, you’re NOT taking a picture of what’s outside your viewfinder. This is cropping.
For me, art is the representation of Truth. It is a measure of intention and affect, and thus fairly subjective.
In this case, your intention may have been to communicate the beauty of nature or Wyoming. And Beauty is a type of Truth, thus, I’d consider this art.
As opposed to, say, a high school yearbook photo. The intention there is record-keeping and is history, not art.
So, yeah, anyone with the same equipment can take the same picture. Just as anyone with the same instrument can play the same song and anyone with a pencil and paper can write the same story. For the artists, though, this is the beginning of their art, not the end.
–And that’s a great photo! :)
You give 500 guitar players a Fender Stratocaster.
All 500 players can play Jimi Hendrix note for note.
Only one person can make that Stratocaster sound like Hendrix and that is Hendrix himself.
Hendrix is an artist and the other 500 guitar players are guitar players.
Last one!
http://www.creative-wisdom.com/photography/photo_essay/aesthetics.html
My head hurts a bit after reading through that link. It doesn’t really touch upon the theory we are discussing here, but opens up a whole other emotional and psychological can of worms.
I think the bottom line is that the definition of “art’ in the photographic context is still intangible. There are far too many variables and subjective opinions to define a rule. However, I relate to Adrian’s statement as relevant to my own my drive with my work. I do not wish to merely duplicate or record a scene in the same fashion as hundreds of photographers could. I also find it relevant in a more specific, clean-cut way of weeding out the explosive growth of people picking up a camera, snapping a photo, and declaring it art; often only capturing something by sheer luck or accident. Happy accidents do happen, and can be wonderful, but a quick look through the user-submitted photos on Flickr or JPGMag.com will quickly jade your enthusiasm for photography as an art form. Image after image of poorly exposed, crooked, ill-processed landscapes with comments like “WOW! WOW! Wonderful! Amazing color!” Bleck! Give me a break. This may be elitist, and I’m ok with that. Fine art has always, and will always, be an elitist, harsh, and opinionated arena.
How about another twist… categorizing something as art, but there may be varying levels of successful execution of art. A beginning photographer, with an “eye”, could capture a good image in concept, but the execution is hampered by a lack of technical knowledge or processing skill. Is the photo still art? Maybe just bad art?
I suppose technically, Ryan is correct in his first part. Even if Adrian, David Clack, and myself hit Jackson Hole and photographed the same stand of aspen, everyone of our photographs would likely be very different, though the subject remained constant. In strict theory, none would be a true representation of the reality. In practice, however, one image could certainly be more documentary and one could be more creative or unique.
Now for the guitar example you guys are discussing. I think perhaps you are both thinking about the end product and not what went into it initially. Anyone can duplicate a Hendrix tune, even on his personal guitar perhaps; the same as anyone could potentially duplicate any image of Ansel Adams or my own (forget the argument of time and space never being the same twice, just for a second). But what you are missing is consideration for the creative process that went into the conceptualization and creation of that song or image that no one can duplicate. Duplication, by definition, is a copy. In order to create a copy, you have to have an original in the first place. That original is the art, the duplication is merely an imitation of the product of someone else’s creativity.
And lastly, Ryan’s last point about Truth. I find this contradictory and inconsistent. What does truth have to do with intention, affect, or subjectivity. Truth cannot be subject to subjectivity, it is fact. Truth also does not exist in most art. It can, but usually does not exist in film, painting, drawing, or photography. The end product is a manifestation of the artist’s imagination. None of my images are a truthful representation of the actual scene; the color is removed or enhanced, I retouch out junk,
and completely change the lighting and tones. Now, you could argue that every photograph ever taken is a representation of truth or reality because a camera can only capture what is physical present, regardless of whether it is captured as out of focus or in false color, the light and subject were there. By your definition, that would make every photograph art.
If Adrian’s photo communicates beauty and truth, how can you say a yearbook photo does not. The subject could be beautiful, and record-keeping and history are certainly a form of truth as well. The point you were trying to make is very similar to Adrian’s original point though. A subject, captured as a record-keeping event is not art, while an image captured for subjective beauty, is.
Here’s a question… is it art if another person could duplicate it without knowledge of the previous piece’s existence? You, me, and a thousand other tourists could photograph that stand of burning aspen, all achieving relatively identical images. Now, take Adrian’s image above; no one will ever be able to duplicate that scene with those clouds and that perfect grass and tree motion. It was a happenstance of natural coincidence that will never be again. Does that qualify it as art versus the first scenario? For a third scenario, I photographed at an abandoned house I found a few days ago. I shot close-ups, textures, and tight still lifes. Perhaps that house has burned down today. No one will ever be able to take those images or photograph that house in any way. Now suppose I take a bus load of photographers out to this location, and we all shoot it for 8 hours straight–thousands of frames. There will be duplication of images and perspectives by different photographers. Are all three images of that doorknob “art”? I would argue not, they are no longer unique.
I’m all turned around now with all the points I was trying to make. I hope some of the above makes sense.
Worms, worms, worms…they are everywhere.
My mind is scrambling to figure out all I want to say. And I do sincerely believe that we will never be able to answer the main question here. It is one that has plagued photography since it’s invention. And one that I myself have been struggling with lately. As I try to explore new subject matter in my imagery. Is what I am doing unique?
I do believe that that is one element that we strive for when creating “art”. A uniqueness that allows our individual voice to be heard in our work. Does that mean that representation is not unique. I think it can be. And truth…? We just have to throw out that whole conversation. There is no truth in photography. There is documentation, but no truth. It is all a matter of interpretation. Once you put a camera to you eye.. You are choosing how you frame that subject. It is always your own interpretation of what is there..
So is every photograph art? No…not every piece of “art” is art. But each individual ends up making their own judgement. Do we only go by what the crticis say. I think we would all disagree with much of what they determine to be art.
But I quess it is no different, and I am really opening a can of worms here, than the bible. Who is the authority to make these decisions about what is truth. Or what is beauty?
So I go back to what I said first. Uniqueness, added to skill, and then the unmeaurable…ability to convey something special to the viewer. To speak to them. That in my opinion is ART.
I may just have to stick to horses…..
Wow, lots of threads to address here. Let me give it another swing…
1. Here’s the rub: If there is no set definition for art, then the term artist has no meaning. And if anyone can legitimately make that claim, then the “artist” taking Polaroids of cute cats is just as much an artist as anyone.
2. This is somewhat scary — are we artists just jerking ourselves off with our self-imposed standards? — but not as scary as the alternative, some sort of governing body or idea that proclaims what is and isn’t art and therefore worthy of merit.
3. This is why I think art is subjective both in the creation (intention) and appreciation (affect). I think the quality of execution is irrelevant on the creation side. It’s possible for a little kid to fulfill artistic intentions, just as it’s possible for me. In that act, we’re both artists.
On the appreciation side, the question is what affect the piece has on the recipient. At this point, I’d say the artists is irrelevant. I could find a toddler’s drawing more meaningful than a professionals painting, regardless of execution. Art is what you want it to be.
4. I love the fact that anyone can pick up a camera and start taking photos. Or sit at a piano and hit the keys or grab a pencil and write a book. It’s very democratic.
Most artists I know start out thinking their stuff is good, even great, only to look back later and see how amateur and “lucky” it was. But the pleasure that creation gives the newbie is likely the same pleasure that inspired you to continue photography. If I didn’t think my first stories were good, I probably wouldn’t still be writing.
5. I guess the lesson for me, then, which I would do well to remind myself of regularly, is that the artists primary responsibility is to satisfy his own need to produce art.
No one can declare you an artist or call your work art and speak with any authority. But you can be happy if you’re true to your voice. And hopefully you’ll find people who find meaning in your work, too, whether it’s a similar meaning or not.
After that post, I suppose there’s no point in apologizing for all my typos.