Art as Substance Versus Pop Culture as Mere Style
In keeping with the general condition of journalistic amnesia one revelation that never fails to re-amaze is that ācomics are no longer just for kids!ā āOnce camp, kitsch and cartoonish, comic books have come of ageā (Thompson
2001, title block). This sentiment comes from an article on the ācoming of ageā of comics, nominally evidenced by the films
X-Men and
Unbreakable, yet it is really about the āadultā re-invention of superhero comics in the 1980s. The fact that this is news in 2001 tells you how often this non-story of pop culture being as complex as āartā bears repeating.
2 Particularly noteworthy for David Thompson (
2001, para. 10) is that:
Set against the āseriousā contemporary art currently in favour ā art that is conspicuously devoid of content or achievement in its construction ā these comic books are examples of true modern art. Indeed, Watchmen, Arkham Asylum and Marvels are works of artistic devotion, requiring a lucidity of imagination and a meticulous commitment measured in years ā qualities that seem beyond the capabilities of the art worldās latest pretenders. Tracey Emin ās soiled bed and Sarah Lucasās vaginal kebab jokes are exercises in self-preoccupation, communicating nothing but the nervous vanity of their makers and conforming entirely to an age in which celebrity is all.
In a nutshell we have both the conventional way in which āartā is defined against āpopular culture ā and an example of just how porous this definitional contrast is. Of course Thompson still believes in this border of āartistic devotionā, it is just that he is prepared to swap Tracey Emin at the checkpoint for Alan Moore, reflecting a general acceptance that any form of popular culture can be just as ācomplexā as any venerated gallery masterpiece, if not more so. But all this really tells us is that āpopular cultureā can be just as good as āartā or that some so-called āartā is as bad as āpopular cultureā. All the rhetoric about ācontentā and āsubstanceā is itself devoid of content and substance, either being little more than vacuous opinion (āGee, that Mona Lisa sure is deepā) or else so broad as to basically describe nearly anything (āGee, that Game of Thrones is as complex as the predatorāprey relationship in a sewer ecosystemā).
Vague and Positive: Defining the Indefinable
Indeed it would seem that āartā and ācultureā are supposed to exist in some quantum field where any attempt to locate them definitively is impossible. Raymond Williams ([1976] 1983, 87) notes that culture is one of the āmost complicated words in the English languageā and, while we laugh at old-fashioned definitions based on moral edification, the concept of āartā is still dominated by mystical bullshit. On the one hand there is an implied notion that both are indefinable and yet also conceptually crammed full of grandiose and amazing defining qualities.
Sure we have some notion that art and culture are inherently good, that they involve working in particular mediums (indeed an āartistā still acts as a default synonym for āpainterā), that they are vehicles for āpersonal expressionā, and that beauty and elegance are constitutive. More importantly there is a widespread belief that what art and culture share is a timeless, natural quality that unifies everything from Werner Herzog, to tribal ceremonies, medieval religious iconography and Palaeolithic cave paintings. Yet these definitions are, at best, overly inclusive and thus not particularly useful. More often they are vapid metaphysical drivel without a shred of decent evidence to back them up. Nonetheless everyone from artists to government departments to philosophers continually perpetuates them.
Thus when you ask artists for definitions youāll still get stuff like this: āWhat is art for? To make meaning happen!ā (Antin 2007, 204). Even if we assume multi-media artist Eleanor Antin is not talking about your common-or-garden āmeaningā but a grandiose āMeaning-of-Lifeā, there is no indication as to how art does this, just the usual assumption that art is deep without having to be proven so. Perhaps the problem is that practitioners are too close and are liable to the poetic excess they work in. To get a better grasp on the subject we need a bit of distance provided by art critics:
āArt may be hard to define, but whatever it is, itās a step removed from reality.ā In one breath, [music critic, Anthony] Tommasini, a modest man, says that he canāt define it; doesnāt know what it is; nevertheless will define it; will tell us, in effect, that he knows exactly what it is, when he writes the words āa step removed from reality.ā (Lentricchia and McAuliffe 2002, 351)
Soon the dreams of anti-matter engines will be realised simply by placing Rodin sculptures and Picassoās blue-period paintings into a rocket; releasing energy as they obliterate the matter of reality. Seriously though, while the āvirtualā nature of art could be a useful distinction, the way it is conceived makes all forms of play and entertainment art, as well as ignoring all the ways art is immersed in grubby day-to-day business and politics. Perhaps more important is the stress on art being hard to define, something that seems to persist even in the realms of state officialdom.
Thus, though the distinction between art and ānon-artā is one the law has put its considerable wisdom to revealing, numerous cases, such as Whistler v. Ruskin , Hahn v. Duveen, Brancusi v. United States and the Mapplethorpe trial (Cincinnati v. Contemporary Arts Center), have created impermanent and contradictory rulings, with judges usually resolving cases without having to define art and indeed going out of their way to avoid doing so3 (Mansfield 2005, 30n27; Giry 2002, para. 33). This same uncertainty exists in the government bureaucracies whose purview covers art and culture:
The [UK] Department for Culture, Media and Sportās (DCMSās) website admits āThere is no official government definition of ācultureā.ā Efforts have begun at various levels ā from UNESCO, to the European Union, to DCMS itself ā to tackle this issue of language and definition, and progress is being made, but as the DCMSās Evidence Toolkit insists, when it comes to culture, āThere are no shared definitions, systems and methodologies.ā (Holden 2006, 11)
Clearly we need to go to the rarefied height of philosophy, where meaning is paramount, to nail a definition. For Jean Baudrillard (2005, 63) āArt is a form. A form is something that does not exactly have a history, but a destiny.ā āFor me, form has nothing to do with focusing positively on something, nothing to do with the presence of an object. Form rather has to do with challenge, seduction, reversibilityā (ibid., 84). So we can test for art-ness by seeing how challenging, seductive and reversible some āformā is? Is art the only thing that can be a āformā? Well I guess we should expect such enigmas from a postmodernist , a philosophical tendency itself inspired by the hothouse hyperbole of modern art. But even a more sober French philosopher, like Alain Badiou , obsessed with the rigours of mathematics, has a definition that reads like a teenagerās poem:
I propose to say that a world is an artistic one, a situation of art, a world of art when it proposes to us a relation between chaotic disposition of sensibility and what is acceptable as a form. So an artistic situation, in general, is always something like [a] relation between a chaotic disposition of sensibility in general (what is in the physical, what is in the audible, and in general) and what is a form. So itās a relation (an artistic world) between sensibility and form. (Badiou [1997] 2005, para. 20)
Of course one might ask what is not a relation between āsensibilityā and āformā? Nose-picking? Accountancy? What in human culture is not a massaging of the āchaosā of the corporeal into āformā? The separation of ideas from visceral affect where, art notwithstanding, we are either brains-in-jars or pure sensual Id, is inconsistent with lived experience as, to quote Sebastiaan Faber (2004, 141 emphases in original), we donāt ājust have ideas but always actively live themā. Even if you could defend a notion of the purely conceptual (a text that is absorbed straight into the brain without the sense of sight or touch or any emotions interceding) and perceptual (an orgasm that escapes any linguistic categorisation, including the word orgasm) these would be such extreme situations that they would hardly help define art separated from the rest of normal human social life. Even Badiou ([1997] 2005, para. 20) himself admits how poor his definition is, though not for the reasons that I point out:
Itās a completely abstract definition, but you can see the nature of the definition. So, if you want, the state of affairs in the artistic world is always a relation between something like our experimentation of chaotic sensibility in general, and the distinction, which is a moving distinction, between form and inform, or something like that.
Yeah, something like that.
So what about analytical philosophy , which is all about rigorous definitions rather than the stoner hermeneutics and poetic inexactitude of the āContinentalā intelligentsia? We are not off to a good start when one of the most respected and venerable figures of āanalytical aestheticsā, Arthur C. Danto (2013, 38 emphasis added), admits that his āintuition was this: The artwork is a material object, some of whose properties belong to the meaning, and some of which do not.ā So we are still in the realm of gut feelings and insights that are both banal and silly (an artwork is a āmaterial objectā but only part of it has āmeaningā and the rest is as meaningless as a non-art object like a stop-sign or swastika).
From another analytical aesthete we find that going with your intuition, rather than being all, like, uptight about facts ānā stuff, is also the way to go: