[BACKGROUND] i was originally working on the art/portfoloio/whatever you wish to call it section of grabaduck, and i wanted to write an intro (2008).
it turned into this mess.
[PURPOSE] however, though i did not originally intend to write this, i've always wanted to. i feel like it's a very befuddled clutter right now, to which i apologize, but it's the best i have.
"WHAT IS ART?"
i am enthralled you have clicked on this, perhaps, in the vain hope of defining "art." i am sorry to have to disappoint, but i do not know the definition. i can't tell you what art is, i can't tell you what classifies art, i can't tell you how to create art.
but through all my ignorance and confusion, i do believe we create art every day.
i'm notorious for talking too much. let us live up to that notoriety tonight.
i took "world art studio" some dinosaurs ago, and it was a class about art history - origin, techniques, the works. the assignment received the first day was to come in the next day with the definition of art. it's one of those "ooh i'm a creative, makethemthinkoutsideofthatstupidbox" moves teachers adore, but whatever, i dealed, and you shall, too. the morning of the class, i ripped off the closest dictionary definition i could find and handed it in. that day, we discussed, we argued, we discussed, blah blah blah... and we came upon this definition that was the best i've ever heard.
it's a damn shame i can't remember it.
it was something like "intent, ... process, product" ...? yeah, did i not tell you i don't know the definition of art? did i not? hah, in all fairness to me.
anyway, whatever it was, it was one of the greatest definitions that summed it all up to the best ability english words can. i wholly believe there is a difference between the every day, mundane disposal of bananas and the man who ate a banana, peeled it, placed it in a museum, and admired it. intent is key, after all.
i've recently came across people who have the audacity to write "vector celebrity blends crap is not art," so it wasn't until recently that i discovered we were in the wonderful presence of the grand connoisseur that goes around declaring what is art and what is not - oh, please (!!!), can i get your autograph, you disparaging piece of shit?
everyone is entitled to his opinions, and there are people out there dying to give everyone the freedom of speech, and rightfully so.
i had a task to complete in the summer before the art class began: visit a museum, choose a piece i liked and disliked, and defend each preference. being of a smug mind in the world of art back then, i felt like i knew it all as i sauntered through the corridors of the new york city metropolitan museum of art. these experts had nothing on me; i knew what deserved to be there, and i knew what was a waste of space. for my paper, i purchased one of childe hassam's "allies" (favor) and "portrait of jo" by courbet (unfavor).
my paper consisted of an extensive vocabulary and inappropriate art speak, and as i reflect on it now, it was all just the superfluous ramble of an overconfident girl. in reality, i had chosen "allies" because it was simple for me to defend, and "portrait of jo" because i found the painting unsightly.
everyone has the right to say what he wants, and it's a right some will exercise until their dying day. however, one of the many lessons i parted with after my art class was the learned ability to appreciate the visual work of another. i probably won't ever buy the billion dollar valued "portrait of jo," but i wholehartedly appreciate gustave courbet's work, and i no doubt believe it is, indeed, his art.
in my opinion, those elitists will continue to go around branding art as their limited, provincial standards permit them. however, while no one forces anyone to love what he produces, it is your obligiation to try to appreciate it. don't be one of those "wtf, mate? what's so special? i can do that for chrissakes!" because chrissakes isn't a word, my friend. and because there is more to that than you will ever know if you keep that condescending bitchass attitude.
jackson pollack's work makes absolutely no sense to me from the moment i saw it to this day, and i am still trying to appreciate it. i know of friends who kiss the ground he walks on, but ... eh? wtf, jackson? what are you getting at?
but i'm trying.
so please, my heart aches as i write this. and you can tell because there has been almost no ridiculous jokes from me tonight. boy, does that mean i'm serious.
at the end of the day, i guess what i'm trying to get at is this: art is rendered from something extraordinary within all of us, and through passion, conscientiousness, and talent, it is born. art can only be defined from inside. it is anything, just as treasure is anything, to anyone.
to anyone, not everyone. but that sure as hell doesn't matter.
