Art:
long hours in museums admiring the techniques and expertise used to create the
masterpieces of painting. As a child, I would much rather have spent that time
in the park. To me art appreciation consisted of trying to find a deeper
meaning in something that was at best interesting for the first minute or two.
Appreciating art was like answering critical reading questions at the end of a
reading assignment. The material might have been enjoyable, but then came the
comprehension questions afterward: "What was the mood of this piece of
work?", "Which of the following statements would the author most
likely agree with?" By the time one got to the end of dissecting the
reading material and supposedly knew all of the different intentions of the
author, one was thoroughly ready to see the back of the whole thing.
With
a semester of art history ahead in high school, I thought, at least, on the
upside I would learn to understand some of the art world's praises and critiques
of art. On the downside, I was sure I didn't have the eye to marvel at a new
technique or type of composition.
One
of the first things I was reminded of was how much "art" encompassed
beyond painting. Of course, sculptures were art; they have been considered so
for thousands of years. Surprisingly to me so was architecture. Then there was
my side lesson in the history of photography.
Perhaps
I only wanted photography to be considered "art" more than I really
believed it was. It was rather like non-fiction, whereas all other art forms
fell under the category of "fiction". Photography did not have the
long, formal tradition that other art forms had, yet I discovered that it did
have rather a history of its own, and not just one of non-fiction. Some artists
composed photographs much as they did paintings. In an effort to combine
photography and painting, and override some of the concerns that photography
would make painting obsolete, some clever person noted how photography could be
substituted for models posing for hours on end. Perhaps without surprise, both
painting and photography survived their brief run-in and are able to complement
each other today.
So
does "art" stop there? Several years ago I had a neighbor who created
functional sculptures from wood and streams of colored resin, which were then
lit from behind for a truly amazing affect. After touring his studio one year
he asked me what sort of art work I had been doing. Perhaps because nothing
ever seems to turn out the way I imagine it, I dedicate hardly any of my time
to "art".
So
I answered, "Nothing . . . unless you count writing."
" Of
course, writing is a type of art too."
I'd
never thought of it that way before. There was always math, science, reading,
writing, P.E. and "art". We certainly didn't do any writing when I
was in art class. Yet his comment led me to consider the idea. Why is the art
of creating something with sandpaper, or a paint brush any more creative than
the art of writing, music, cooking, or whatever it is you can put "The art
of " in front of? Certainly they're different, but they're all expressions
of our inner desire to create something that speaks for us in some way.
One
of the most interesting parts of art history, for me, was the
"history" half. So much is gained by understanding a little about the
world of the artist, the cultural restrictions of what they were allowed to
create, the hardships of their time, and the materials they used that shaped
their technique. Knowing a bit about their world can add depth to their work,
whereas being told that such things are the reasons to appreciate their work
flips everything around, where one looks not at the living portion that
breathes, but at the structure that supports it.
Who
is it that decides what is a masterpiece and what is simply art? Perhaps it has
some to do with the technique, or the composition, but in the end doesn't it
all come down to an opinion?
Written by Teagen Blakey
