PHONETOGRAPHY

Lansdowne Mall, Richmond

As I mentioned in my post about the point of art, “entertainment” and “art” are two different things.  They often mingle, and it can sometimes be difficult to tell them apart (this becomes a matter of taste).  What distinguishes entertaining art from artistic entertainment can be something as subtle as context (is it in a gallery?)  If it’s possible to categorize creative works - a big “if” - then it might be easiest to create a scatterplot chart (not unlike the “political compass“) with “Art” on one axis and “Entertainment” on another.  It would be incorrect to imagine Art and Entertainment as two ends of one spectrum.

I have finally started to come around to the idea that it’s possible for television programming to count as art.  What kept me so hostile to that notion for so long is the fact that all TV shows exist, more or less, to provide captive audiences for advertisers.  If advertising did not exist, neither would television as we know it.  However, this view is too simplistic.  It doesn’t recognize that the form of TV (serialized, long-term storytelling) can be applied to any end and should rightfully be distinguished from the content, nor does it admit that it is possible to work within the system without necessarily being complicit to it.  What’s more, the advent of DVD, PVRs, and a vibrant bittorrent community is starting to leave advertisers out of the loop - allowing TV shows to be appreciated without interruption.

Naturally, most TV has a high entertainment quotient.  If it didn’t, there would be no captive eyes for advertisers - a televised Damien Hirst would not last very long.  (Now that I think about it, Invader Zim might be the nearest equivalent.  It survived for one season before being cancelled unceremoniously.  Invader Zim was art.)

On the art side, Dada is a classic example of a playful and entertaining art movement that can be found in any art history text book (though there are still those who would question whether Dada works are “art” - and Dada works would not have been considered “entertaining” when they were new).  Works like Yves Klein’s “Leap into the Void” carry that playful and inquisitive thread onward, but are far too open-ended to be entertainment.  Banksy is perhaps the best known contemporary artist to really tread the line between art and entertainment, while remaining on the side of the former (his work, though popular and marketable, is still far too subversive to be fit into the latter box).

I’m not really ready to tackle a definition of art (or of entertainment) - at the moment I’m still trying to organize my thoughts.  For now I will settle for some assorted postulates:

• Advertising (billboards, tv spots, etc.) can never be art.  It can be extremely creative or beautiful, but it does not exist for its own sake (though art doesn’t need to), and any message or feeling it might convey is secondary to the primary objective of selling a product.  Indeed, any “aesthetic emotions” it achieves are funnelled towards the product and away from the work itself.  (I should note that as of this writing I haven’t read the linked essay in a very long time.  I link it because, as far as I know, Bell coined the phrase “aesthetic emotion.”)

• Art does not need to be an object (a painting, a sculpture), does not need to live in a gallery, and does not even need be “intended” as art.  Again, context is key.  Damien Hirst called 9/11 “wicked, but a work of art,” and on some level I can’t help but agree.

• Entertainment turns the brain off.  Art turns the brain on.  This is part of the reason why entertainment is so popular: after a long day at work, most people haven’t got the energy to feed a busy brain.  For what it’s worth, an “off” switch for the brain can be useful.  After any strenuous exercise, mental or physical, an aid to relaxation and recovery is essential.

The problem lies not in the fact that entertainment exists and is the mental equivalent of processed sugar, but in the fact that entertaining candied treats are not appropriately balanced by healthful and challenging art works.  We have work to do!

Streetlights on the 98

Art should be a challenge.  It should be a spotlight on the negative, a flare in a dungeon, a shake of the shoulders.  Good art instigates.

About a month ago, I started participating in a group art blog with some friends.  Something I noticed about the first couple projects was that they centered around personal, favourite things.  I realized that I don’t often make art (at least, nothing I’d bother to show anyone) with that sort of subject matter - part of why is above.

So what does that bit of rhetoric mean?  Art is nothing if it doesn’t change you somehow.  The effect doesn’t need to be enormous, but your mood or mental processes should take a new direction.  The best art can turn you around, flip you on your head, or propel you forward with remarkable force.  This is part of what distinguishes “art” from “entertainment” (the details of this idea will make up the body of a later post).

When I say that art should be a spotlight on the negative, I mean that it shows us the things we don’t want to look at - but should.  Everything is not okay, but good art makes us take our medicine.  All this sounds very inflammatory and strident, but art can be subtle and contemplative and still accomplish the kinds of things I’m talking about.  (For example, some of the most powerfully shocking images I’ve seen are the photos of Edward Burtynsky, which are silent and beautiful.)

Art can challenge the way we look at the world, and remind us that things haven’t always been the way they are.  Just because the status quo exists, it doesn’t follow that it is “natural” or inevitable or eternal.

And now I’m going to contradict myself, if I haven’t already.

As I was thinking about how some of my friends would respond to these ideas - friends whose work is overwhelmingly positive and happy - I remembered that positivity can also be a challenge.  In a sea of concerned frowns, a smile is more radical than a fist (I’m really pouring it on thick now, aren’t I?).

The key here is that both “positive” and “negative” art is necessary if anything is going to get done.  The two complement each other.  Showing people beauty will do little if they don’t realize that they are surrounded by ugliness.  Showing people ugliness will accomplish nothing if there is no beautiful alternative to work towards.  What unites the poles (it would be better understood as a spectrum) is the element of a challenge.

Lest people misunderstand me, I’m not only talking about representational artwork.  Abstraction can be (and often is) even more of a challenge.  By its very  nature, it forces the brain to work in a new way: interpreting colour, shape, composition, etc.  Abstract art doesn’t need to “mean” anything, in fact, it often doesn’t.  And, for what it’s worth, not every piece of art I do is dour and negative.  Sometimes I draw very silly things.