Airan Scruby
Staff Writer
In 1996, at the Phoenix Art Museum, a Kate Millet exhibit called “America Goes to Pot” displayed the American flag in the toilet, surrounded by iron bars, as if in a jail cell.
In the same museum, “What is the Proper Way to Display the American Flag” consists of a flag draped on the floor. Viewers were invited to stand on the flag, and write comments about their feelings on the exhibit and patriotism in a book.
Both exhibits were the subject of damage and “vandalism” (the folding up or removal of the flag) by angry veterans and indignant school children.
In the Denver International Airport, “The Luggage Project,” is made up of suitcases with typical contents for travel, covered in blood with slogans like “blood for oil.”
Countless other exhibits can be cited, including exhibits that depict dead ladybugs in plastic foam cups, an unmade bed in the middle of a museum and millions of dead flies glued to a canvas.
Many art critics, especially those who are more conservative in the type of art they review, have discounted these exhibits as offensive, irrelevant to the art world and not even worthy of consideration as art. Many Pepperdine students would also likely disregard these pieces.
But are they right to do so?
First, one must examine what real art is. Is it beautiful? Is it meaningful? Is it simply interesting to the eye? Is art in the eye of the creator or the beholder?
Frankly, who is to say that any given effort is art or not? Some pieces may be beautiful but not necessarily meaningful. Many pieces from the Renaissance, which are essentially portraits of wealthy patrons, carry little deeper significance but are regarded as priceless, incredible artwork today.
Other pieces, like the works of Pablo Picasso, may carry a great deal of meaning but are not considered beautiful by many who view them. “Guernica,” for example, can hardly be called a pretty picture, but many artists imitate the style in which Picasso painted.
When examining these modern artists, comparing them only with their contemporaries, one does not have to look far to find fault in the argument that their work is not artistic.
In Pepperdine’s own Weissman Museum, the University is hosting the work of Dale Chihuly, a glass artist. His work is, again, mostly present for its aesthetic value. It rarely contains any direct symbolism for the viewer, and the interest of most ‘witnesses’ to the art is in its beauty.
What about everyday objects like vases, bowls or silverware? Someone designed them. We use them, and sometimes admire their beauty or usefulness. Perhaps their meaning is of lesser importance, but are these items art?
I would argue that they are. After all, the cups on your dinner table were produced creatively for the sake of those who witness or use them. Clothing designers can be seen in a similar light; their art is functional (at least, most of it is), and though we use it for practical purposes, most people do pay a great deal of attention to the kind of clothing in which they decorate themselves.
New fields of art and design, made possible with computers, open up a new avenue for the same controversy. Because artists who use programs like Photoshop allow a program to do much of their work for them through vague commands — can their work be called art?
Well, why not? Can photography be art? Most people accept that it can be and that it is often very compelling and meaningful. But an artist relies completely on a camera and the light around him to take artistic photographs.
The modern exhibits that can be found in museums these days are often very disrespectful to many groups, but they are still ultimately artistic expressions. ‘The Luggage Project’ may not be beautiful, but it is certainly meaningful to the artist, and stirs a great deal of emotion in its viewers.
Is modern art really art? The answer is yes, and is perhaps best explained by more impartial analysis of classical art.
Modern artists, even those who push the borders of respectful behavior, are exploring their craft just as past masters have done for centuries.
2-3-2005