The common definition of "art"

The purpose of this blog is to present over a succession of related posts an argument for a reconsideration of the way we use the word “art.” The word may seem innocuous enough, but I believe there is a general misunderstanding as to what actually constitutes “art,” and I believe that this misunderstanding leads to larger, much more dangerous misunderstandings and conflicts.

I’m serious.

The common definition of “art” today refers to unique man-made objects that represent personal expression. “Art” objects are contrasted with mass-produced objects, the general belief being that the more technological an object is the less it is “art.” Indeed, the modern notion of the “fine arts” developed concurrently with and as a reaction to the Industrial Revolution.  Before this cataclysm in human history, even the most technologically advanced object usually revealed some evidence of the hand or hands that made it. More precise machines all but eliminated this evidence, and the rise of the modern notion of “art” can be seen as a product of the Romanticist nostalgia for the past.

Lost in this new attitude toward human making is the fact that, as David Summers writes in Real Spaces, “technology is always the more or less immediate background for everything we call art,” whether we’re talking about the Parthenon or the Mona Lisa or the iPad. A Renaissance altarpiece was not classified as “art” the way the term is used today. It was a functional component of a complex social space, and it was produced by a bustling workshop utilizing the very latest technology. One of its equivalents today would be a PowerPoint presentation at a community planning meeting, which is not something that we are inclined to call “art.”

Another current use of the word “art” is quite simply to mean “good.” This is the intended meaning when one says of another’s work, “You’ve really created a work of art.” This is the intended meaning when a movie theater is referred to as an “art house.” The most immediate problem with this formulation, of course, is that what is good is subjective, and deeming something as not “art” amounts to little more than saying that you don’t like it.

But there are more consequential problems with this formulation. The Romantic definition of “art” has led to the now pervasive view in the West that anything can be “art.” And this is true, but it also leads to the assertion that if an artifact doesn’t serve its purpose well, the fault lies with the beholder. If the artist’s intentions are inscrutable, well, that’s how artists are in today’s culture. One can do anything and call it “art.”

Which is fine, as long as you’re not drowning puppies. But there are at least two disturbing consequences of this refined definition of “art.” The first is that we end up sanctioning the purveyance of outright lies in the name of “art” (like, for instance, this). The second and even more serious consequence is that we end up minimizing the significance of the most dominant visual media in our culture: film, television, and the World Wide Web. If “art” is synonymous with “good,” “important” or “high-minded,” then we have a tendency to dismiss all the stuff we consider “bad,” “trivial” or “low-brow” as inconsequential, even as it continues to have a massive impact on the way people behave.