I have an almost unintentional practice, many of the ideas I choose to develop are not what I set out to do and are more a case of perception than intention. In which case it is more of a perceptual practice.
It's important for me to remember that the things I am interested in can be very distinct from the meaning in the pieces I create. The things I am interested in can lead to the pieces because the process of making art is also a form of research.
This would be an argument inline with ‘The Intentional Fallacy’ in which the artists meaning becomes irrelevant when the viewer is introduced to the work, because that introduction brings a new set of paradigms and perspectives are introduced, so the meaning becomes something else anyway.
In practical terms, and very relevant to the moment, this shows the importance of being in the studio, working, and not getting too obsessed with what it all means.
Meaning (as imposed by the viewer) and context (as imposed by me) can be two very distinct things.
In researching taste, aesthetics and attempting to understand what art is, i've come upon the term ‘necessary and sufficient conditions’ a few times. These are the conditions for determining a definition. If both can be defined with regards to a certain subject (A for example) then through the exploration of necessary and sufficient conditions we will be able to find all the things that are ‘A’ by excluding the things that aren't ‘A’. (Philosophy Bites, 2017)
Wittgenstein disagreed with this rigid stance. Using the example of games he shows that there are always things that don't fit the definition. We recognise what games are not through the definition of them, or at least not always, but through the experience of hearing the ways other people use the word, which leads us to an understanding of what Wittgenstein called a ‘family resemblance’. (Janaway, 2006)
Wittgenstein saw language as a living thing, and therefore as subject to the ‘change in variation’. Meaning, according to Wittgenstein, is reliant on use, in that whatever meaning we use is one that is ‘right’. Meaning can be local, we share meaning with those close to us, and have our own meanings for those words based on our own lives. (Janaway, 2006)
Wittgenstein suggests a thought experiment, an extension of the ‘private language argument’. In it he asks us to pretend that we each have a box, we all describe the thing inside the box as a beetle, and yet we cannot ever know what is inside other people's boxes. Whether the thing inside the box actually is what we think of as a beetle or is something else the word ‘beetle’, in this instance, becomes both a word to describe what is inside the box and the implication of a small creature with six legs. (Floyd, 2006)
In this experiment the box can be seen as a metaphor for our brains. A pertinent example of this would be our interpretation of colour. We all, mostly, agree on the standard definitions of colour, but the argument becomes more obvious when colours get specific. Working in an art institution for nearly five years I've regularly heard disagreements about colours, and we have no real way of knowing that what we see as green is what someone else is seeing. Pain is another obvious example, while there are obviously degrees of pain we have no reliable way of comparing our pain to that of another.
Words, or more accurately their meaning, operate in the same way. How often have any of us said something that someone has taken the wrong way. It wouldn't be unreasonable to suggest that we all have.
It isn't that much more of a leap to suggest that images are the same. As much of the research on this blog has shown, images, and by extension other artworks, have meaning that is integral to their existence. That meaning only exists when interpreted by a human, and those interpretations come through the reading of information. That information can be digital, visual, auditory, tactile or any number of sensory inputs. To define art as simply something beautiful or enjoyable on a basic level denies our own intelligence, and our capability to interpret information.
Art, it could therefore be argued, contains, disseminates, and encourages the transfer of information. While there are many artworks whose information revolves around beauty, or the weirder sensory experience, there are many others that require a form of data processing, or interaction, from the viewer. If nothing else it's clear that is more information to be explored than we realise.
I would argue that one of the purposes of art is to highlight that processing potential in regards to the world around us, and other areas of daily life.
The reading of art encourages a creative thinking process, which can be applied to the world beyond the art gallery.
There is a reason we can nominate the everyday as art, I would argue that this is because these objects have an element of inherent meaning attached to them. The nomination of them as ‘Art’ is a common activity, but maybe it is enough to think of them as art, or see them as art, at an individual level. We bring the meaning to the work, so can we bring it to other things just by imagining it.
If I think that something I'm experiencing is Art, but never say it, is it any less Art than the painting on the wall? Does it matter that I'm an artist? Whose to say where the artwork lies?
This section was added in addition to my initial post on taste. The information here is mostly from two short sources, that inspried more thinking. Later parts of this text slip into assumptive writing, so this post is more - thoughts inspired by research.
Floyd, R. (2006) Wittgenstein : The Private Language Argument [Online] Philosophy Now. Available from: https://philosophynow.org/issues/58/The_Private_Language_Argument [Accessed 03.11.17].
Janaway, C. (2006) Reading Aesthetics and Philosophy of Art: Selected texts with interactive commentary. Pondicherry: Blackwell Publishing.
Philosophy Bites (2017) ‘Elisabeth Schellekens Dammann on Disagreement About Taste’, Aesthetics Bites. [Podcast] Avaliable from: http://philosophybites.com/2017/04/elisabeth-schellekens-dammann-on-disagreement-about-taste.html [Accessed 01.11.17].
Much of the research I've been doing explores and defines the ways we read visual information. The ways we understand it and the meaning applied by us and the artist. These themes have arisen in researching Heidegger, Derrida, Danto, Bell, Hume, Kant and others. This has led to a particular interest in the ways we read paintings.
So I today spent the day in the workshop cutting up two canvases to explore the practical idea of turning a painting into a book. Highlighting the ways we read paintings, and forming a new way of exploring a work.
The first test was done with a painting straight off the wall. It has a solid layer of primer (probably about 4 coats) and a mix of acrylic and oil paint on the surface. The template for this book is 19x40cm to make a book 19x20cm wide.
The second is with an unprimed canvas that was placed on a studio floor for two months. Acrylic paint and dust cover the majority of the surface. This canvas had previously been stretched and nominated as a painting. I applied a single layer of acrylic sealant to either side.
The template for this book is 36x25 to make a book 18x25cm, this measurement is taken from an art theory textbook, which generally have slightly different ratios to other books.
My aim for this process is to discover the best way to turn my floor piece (see here) which is 9x2.5m into a book. The pages will be the size of a traditional painting (which one I am not sure at the moment) and I don't yet know whether it will be displayed horizontally or back onto the wall.
Both tests should work through the next stage (binding) but the sealed canvas (experiment 2) has a tactile quality that is hard to define. The sealant has a plasticity that primer cannot achieve (due to the addition of pigment) and is something that encourages the viewer to flip through the pages of the book. It is a pleasurable experience.
I am going to have to decide whether the work will be shown on the wall or on a plinth as this will define the size of the pages. For now, the binding experiments will continue with these two smaller books.
Meaning in art
Dewey posited that art is a way of understanding human culture, primarily the culture in which it was created. Heidegger agrees that the study of art, and the making of it, can be a form of understanding human history and progress.
The reason is a simple one, or at least it can be. To understand a piece of art we need to understand it's context, which includes information about the world at the time of making.
When combined with the artist's intentions, the reality of the work, it's place in the wider art world and it's place in the world ‘outside’ of art, it forms a language of art, in particular that piece.
The language of art is not a literal one. It is complicated and open to interpretation. Understanding the language of art aids in the interpretation of it.
Interpretation is a difficult word, one Derrida didn't use; because, Derrida believed, it presupposes a ‘pure’ or ‘real’ interpretation, where one doesn't exist.
Interpretation is dependent on perspective, and therefore is subjective. Meaning is subjective.
This can be seen in the study of semiotics, the meaning attributed to something often reaches a consensus at the basic level but each sign can contain potentially infinite signifiers, it simply depends on who is processing the sign - and more importantly who they are, how they think, what they know, and what they have experienced.
It is the combination of these factors that determines the interpretation of a sign. There are of course limits to each, but when considered as a whole the possibilities are numerous.
Semiology is the study of signs, and anything can be a sign, if seen in the ‘right’ ways.
Therefore meaning is, while limited in specifics, open in its possibilities.
If we take it to be true that art is a form of language, then it must be true that it communicates.
The language through which art communicates is specialised, there is an ‘Artworld’, as defined by Arthur Danto, in which this art language is the native tongue.
It is a skill. One that, like many others, can be improved upon over time. At first we may need explanations to help us open our eyes to the possible meanings of an artwork, but as we learn more about the artworks and when we actively ‘look’ for the signs (or possibly ‘words’ in this analogy) the language becomes easier to see.
Semiology is a useful lens through which we can explore the language of art.
The artist and the interpreter don't have to agree on the meaning, and often don't.
The important thing here to remember is that there is no pure meaning, we are fallible creatures and meaning is applied by humans to the reality we find, or the ideas we explore. Meaning is fallible.
In ‘The Intentional Fallacy’ by Wimsatt and Beardsley, the authors argue that the artist's meaning is irrelevant. Once the artwork is seen it the meaning given to it during it's creation no longer matters, it is what it is, and what it is will be interpreted by others.
I feel that there is a lot of evidence, at least anecdotal, that suggests that the artists cannot be seen as totally irrelevant after creation. For the very reasons seen above, to study art we need to know it's context, which includes the artists intentions. Whether or not the audience agrees is far more open. Artists also guide meaning, both during creation and after. (although in the case of after it can feel a defensive task - until a consensus is reached on the artist's status of course. Few would disagree with the artist's intentions when written on the wall of the RA for example)
When the artist and the interpreter do disagree, it is worth remembering that interpretation is a lens. It explores at least one facet of an artwork, and rarely sees them all.
A ‘good’ interpretation could be argued to be one that explores many facets, including some of itself.
Christine Freeland describes it in this way - “A good interpretation must be grounded in reasons and evidence, and should provide a rich, complex, and illuminating way to comprehend a work of art. Sometimes an interpretation can even transform an experience of art from repugnance to appreciation and understanding.”
And so we come to the importance of meaning, or the benefits of it.
Art is an immensely broad subject, given a three letter word to describe it. No two artworks are the same, and when they appear to be they are only highlighting that very issue. The interpretation of art aids in our understanding of what it does.
These ‘things’ (artworks) do something. They exist and they have a function. That function is physical and cerebral, and meaning is central to the cerebral process.
Whether we ‘like’ and artwork or not, ignoring the meaning in favour of our initial personal opinion misses something important about the artwork and the role of art in human society; to make us think.
Note - here the word ‘think’ is defined to include the act of actively seeing, reacting or otherwise interacting with the artwork. After all there is always an element of thinking involved.
Writing this post has highlighted for me that we each have a methodology when we look at art. We can be said to be trying to understand that methodology, and potentially broaden it, when we open our minds to art and explore works for more than their initial ‘like’ or ‘dislike’.
As a practicing artist it is also interesting to note that meaning can become clear to an artist as well as the viewer. I've known many artists who have ‘suddenly realised’ their work is about an interest they had years previously or a personal issue they didn't realise they were working through in the studio.
Meaning isn't always intended, at least consciously.
Meaning is, to quote a phrase coined by popular culture but no less appropriate, bigger on the inside.
Next post - I'd like to explore more about why we create art, and the purposes of the activity itself.
Danto, A C. (1964) ‘The Artworld’. The Journal of Philosophy, Volume (61): Pages 571-584.
Derrida, J. (1978) The truth in painting. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Dewey, J. (2005) Art as Experience. New York: Berkley publishing group.
Freeland, C. (2002) But is it Art?. New York: Oxford University Press.
Jasper Johns: Something Resembling Truth (2017) [Exhibition]. Royal Academy, London. 23 September - 10 December 2017.
Marriner, R. (2002) ‘Derrida and the Parergon’. In: Smith, P and Wilde, C. eds. A companion to art theory. Blackwell: 349-359.
Marriner, R (2012) ‘Reframing the picture, recasting the object’. In: Heywood, I and Sandywell, B. eds. (2012) The handbook of visual culture. London: Berg.
The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2010) ‘Heidegger’s Aesthetics’ [Online] Stanford University. Avaliable from: https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/heidegger-aesthetics/. [Accessed - 13/10/17].
Wimsatt, W K and Beardsley M C. (1946) ‘The Intentional Fallacy’. The Sewanee Review, Volume, (54): Page 468-488. [Online] Available from: http://libarch.nmu.org.ua/bitstream/handle/GenofondUA/26575/eebec50474beb95720cbb1e0b96892f5.pdf?sequence=1 [Accessed 17.09.2016].