On a recent weekend home from school, I went to a masters student art show at UC San Diego. One piece on display was a row of glass bottles. Another was six or so fluorescent light bulbs that flickered on an off at different, apparently random times. And the topper was an oversized stuffed muppet slumped in the middle of the floor.
It appeared as though these artists had spent all their time thinking about art, and then when it came time to assemble, took no time at all, though the stuffed muppet was probably the result of arduous trials to figure out the most meaningful position in which it could lie on the floor.
While I do value ideas and creativity and, I admit, I hadn’t seen pieces like those before, it would have been nice to see something else in the work besides originality ““ like maybe some skill.
At the show, I saw very few pieces that looked like I could not have created the same thing. And I have a hard time admiring pieces that need to be explained for viewers to appreciated them, because the things themselves had no inherent value.
Not to undermine the value of sudden bursts of inspiration and ingenuity that create masterpieces in 15 minutes, but I’d like to look at a piece of art and think, “My, that must have taken forever.” It should be apparent that there was a lot of meaning behind the art, or else the artists wouldn’t have bothered to spend the time to create them.
Looking at the surface of the thing should in itself be a treat. I don’t want to think, “OK, that is just a bunch of fluorescent lights switching on and off at different times.” If the artist didn’t care to distinguish his work from a Home Depot hardware display, why should I?
Granted, the need to dig beyond the physical for the purpose is, in a sense, very modern.
When people see something they don’t understand, they go look it up online, and the same can happen with art.
It is no longer necessary for all the meaning to exist in the art itself, as I can look up articles explaining it. So maybe the muppet was just on the floor to refer people to the artist’s philosophy.
The concept of the art, the thought behind it, seems to be valued more than the finished product or the skill required to complete it.
At the exhibit, I just couldn’t believe that this was the work of art students, of people who presumably hope to pursue that as a career.
I couldn’t just declare myself a doctor because I want to help people. I’d need some skills to do that.
And though the aim of art is different from that of medicine, the idea that all it takes is an idea ““ and no skill ““ to get in a museum cheapens the profession.
But to my dismay and confusion, it seems that the disparity between a craft ““ something that takes a lot of skill, and an art ““ something that pushes boundaries of creativity, is growing. Being an artist, apparently, is growing more akin to being a philosopher than being talented.
If you like philosophy, e-mail Crocker at acrocker@media.ucla.edu.