In today’s post I would like to address the age old question posed by artists, but from a slightly different perspective. I would like to present some thoughts and ideas expressed on this topic by Leo Tolstoy, and add my comments. The passages in italics are Tolstoy’s words, the rest are mine:
In order correctly to define art, it is necessary, first of all, to cease to consider it as a means to pleasure and to consider it as one of the conditions of human life. Viewing it in this way we cannot fail to observe that art is one of the means of intercourse between man and man.
To me, this is a very important distinction–art does not need to be beautiful to be art. Although that may have been the prevailing definitions in other cultures in the history of art, it is not a requirement of art. Art does not necessarily need to bring pleasure to the viewer, art can be disturbing. What makes it art is that it communicates feelings between the artist and evokes these feelings with others.
To evoke in oneself a feeling one has once experienced, and having evoked it in oneself, then, by means of movements, lines, colors, sounds, or forms expressed in words, so to transmit that feeling that others may experience the same feeling - this is the activity of art.
Art is a human activity consisting in this, that one man consciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to others feelings he has lived through, and that other people are infected by these feelings and also experience them.
Every work of art causes the receiver to enter into a certain kind of relationship both with him who produced, or is producing, the art, and with all those who, simultaneously, previously, or subsequently, receive the same artistic impression.
And it is upon this capacity of man to receive another man’s expression of feeling and experience those feelings himself, that the activity of art is based.
Art begins when one person, with the object of joining another or others to himself in one and the same feeling, expresses that feeling by certain external indications.
This is a critical distinction in the definition of art. First, there must be intention on the part of the artist; the intention is to provoke or evoke in the viewer certain feelings, emotions, or express to the viewer a personal viewpoint in such a way that the viewer is involved in those emotions. Without intention, there can be no intercourse between artist and viewer, there can be no sharing of feelings or emotions. This is why that old expression often told to writers is true for visual artists as well “write what you know”; if your art is not an expression of something in your experience, it will be hollow and without the true feeling that is required to have an impact on your viewer.
Secondly, and just as important, the artist must be capable of expressing those feelings and emotions in a manner that allows the viewer to experience then to the greatest extent possible. This is where skill is involved. Intention alone does not make good art; it is only with a command of the tools that allow the artist to express his intention with maximum impact are those intentions communicated. Without intention there is no link between artist and viewer; without the skill by which the intention is expressed, there is no link between artist and viewer. It is only when the artist possesses the skills–which include knowledge of composition and the impact of color, and how colors play against each other–that art is produced. So even with the “best of intentions” without successful execution, the result falls short of being art.
Art is often used by therapists as a way to understand emotions that a patient cannot clearly express any other way. These artworks produced by the patients may lack skillful execution and therefore not stand the test as true art, but their essential intention–expression–cannot be denied.
I want to share a story that I feel expresses this notion. Many years ago, we attended the opening of a museum that dealt with conceptual art. I won’t get started in this post on how I feel about conceptual art, but suffice it to say that conceptual art is all about concept–intention–and (I think) often lacks the successful artistic expression of that concept. We listened to an artist talk about her exhibit–she was filled with emotion, talked about the art expressing her feelings about the plight of women in underdeveloped countries, of the interweaving of their lives and her art. It was so extraordinary, I couldn’t wait to go see the exhibit. We went upstairs to a large room filled with empty tables, and my husband commented that this couldn’t be the gallery, it must be where they were setting up the reception for later. I said I thought this was the room, and we asked a guard who confirmed that this was, in fact, the exhibit. It consisted of tables, cut in half and reattached to other halves, with human hair glued onto the surface. Intention–terrific. Execution–missing something. Having not heard the talk, I would have gotten less than nothing from viewing the art. Even knowing the artist’s intention, I still got nothing out of it. Her talk was more art that the art itself. The talk touched me and communicated and transferred feelings and emotions, thoughts and ideas. The art did not communicate anything at all.
Conversely, composition and arrangement of colors without intention, without self expression is not art, like all those pleasant pictures that hang in the waiting rooms of doctor’s offices–the visual art equivalent of muzak. Pretty, pleasant, well executed, but with no intention of communicating with the viewer. Likewise the “art” produced by chimps and elephants–they may look like art we have seen hanging in galleries, but neither the chimp nor the elephant is expressing the depths of his soul, nor is he in command of the execution of this art.
There is no requirement that the viewer UNDERSTAND art in order to be moved by, or affected by a work of art. The only requirement is that the feeling is communicated successfully. Not all viewers will be moved in the same way by the same art. That it speaks to some is enough to be art–which is probably why there is so much debate about what is art in the first place. If we all responded in the same way to the same art, the definition would be simple.
But all this is but the smallest part of the art by which we communicate with each other in life. All human life is filled with works of art of every kind - from cradlesong, jest, mimicry, the ornamentation of houses, dress, and utensils, up to church services, buildings, monuments, and triumphal processions. It is all artistic activity.
It is all artistic activity because it has intention and it can communicate from one person to another. It is not a coincidence that the Museum of Modern Art contains in its collection many everyday household items that it considers to be art. Strong statements can come in the most humble forms.
Tolstoy tells a story about a boy’s encounter with a wolf, and his subsequent telling of the story to others. Were he to simply say “I saw a wolf and it frightened me”, that would not be art. But when he tells the story and describes how he felt–his heart racing, sweating; the way the wolf smells and sounds–in a manner that draws the viewer into the story so that he can experience the encounter for himself–that is art. Tolstoy also makes the distinction that the story need not be true to be art–the boy can make the story up and if he tells it in a way that evokes the emotions, it is art. (Fiction)
Tolstoy goes on to say:
And the degree of the infectiousness of art depends on three conditions:
On the greater or lesser individuality of the feeling transmitted;
on the greater or lesser clearness with which the feeling is transmitted;
on the sincerity of the artist, i.e., on the greater or lesser force with which the artist himself feels the emotion he transmits.
The more individual the feeling transmitted the more strongly does it act on the receiver; the more individual the state of soul into which he is transferred, the more pleasure does the receiver obtain, and therefore the more readily and strongly does he join in it.
In other words, the work of art must be unique and clearly express the feelings of the individual who has created it; not a work derived from, inspired by, or copied from another artist’s work.
The clearness of expression assists infection because the receiver, who mingles in consciousness with the author, is the better satisfied the more clearly the feeling is transmitted, which, as it seems to him, he has long known and felt, and for which he has only now found expression.
The skills of the artist must be evident, a work of art that is well conceived but not well executed will not clearly express the intention of the artist, and therefore will not be successful as art.
But most of all is the degree of infectiousness of art increased by the degree of sincerity in the artist. As soon as the spectator, hearer, or reader feels that the artist is infected by his own production, and writes, sings, or plays for himself, and not merely to act on others, this mental condition of the artist infects the receiver; and contrariwise, as soon as the spectator, reader, or hearer feels that the author is not writing, singing, or playing for his own satisfaction - does not himself feel what he wishes to express - but is doing it for him, the receiver, a resistance immediately springs up, and the most individual and the newest feelings and the cleverest technique not only fail to produce any infection but actually repel.
To me, this relates so directly to the long debate of art vs. craft. As soon as the artist begins to produce work that is not intended to express himself, the result is not art. When the viewer feels that it is intended only to attempt to satisfy his needs, and not the intention of the artist; there is no communication between them. The viewer may still enjoy the forms, take pleasure in the execution, but he is not relating to the work in the same way as he would were he to be engaged in a dialogue with the artist. The result may be executed with the same skills as the art produced by the same hand, but when the intention shifts from self expression to trying to please the viewer–ie: what will sell–it is no longer art.
I have mentioned three conditions of contagiousness in art, but they may be all summed up into one, the last, sincerity, i.e., that the artist should be impelled by an inner need to express his feeling. That condition includes the first; for if the artist is sincere he will express the feeling as he experienced it. And as each man is different from everyone else, his feeling will be individual for everyone else; and the more individual it is - the more the artist has drawn it from the depths of his nature - the more sympathetic and sincere will it be. And this same sincerity will impel the artist to find a clear expression of the feeling which he wishes to transmit.
When art ceases to express the feelings of the artist, as soon as the artist is no longer creating a dialogue or a relationship with the viewer, then the result is no longer art. Although every viewer will bring to his connection with the artwork something different, something that touches his or her own personal feelings or experiences, the sincere expression of the artist’s innermost feelings and emotions is critical. Intention, but sincere intention, not an attempt to touch something in the viewer that is not strongly felt by the artist.
Therefore this third condition - sincerity - is the most important of the three. It is always complied with in peasant art, and this explains why such art always acts so powerfully; but it is a condition almost entirely absent from our upper-class art, which is continually produced by artists actuated by personal aims of covetousness or vanity.
That says it all, that is the critical difference between art and craft. In art, the intention is a sincere expression of the artist’s feelings, without an expectation of a particular response from a viewer; in craft, the artist has allowed his personal feelings to be over-ridden by his need to covet favor (or sales), and by the intention of pleasing the viewer (or buyer) by producing what the artist anticipates he/she will want to purchase.
The chief peculiarity of this feeling is that the receiver of a true artistic impression is so united to the artist that he feels as if the work were his own and not someone else’s - as if what it expresses were just what he had long been wishing to express. A real work of art destroys, in the consciousness of the receiver, the separation between himself and the artist - not that alone, but also between himself and all whose minds receive this work of art. In this freeing of our personality from its separation and isolation, in this uniting of it with others, lies the chief characteristic and the great attractive force of art.
If the work does not transmit the artist’s peculiarity of feeling and is therefore not individual, if it is unintelligibly expressed, or if it has not proceeded from the author’s inner need for expression - it is not a work of art. If all these conditions are present, even in the smallest degree, then the work, even if a weak one, is yet a work of art.
Art must be a result of the artist’s need to express in this format, his feelings, emotions and experiences in a way that communicates these to another person looking at the work. The work should speak for itself, without the need for further explanation about the intention. It must be well executed, with skill and knowledge of the required tools to maximise the expression of the intention. The mastery of the tools of execution plus how well the intention is communicated are what determines not only if it is art, but if it is good art. As soon as the artist begins to produce work that lacks the component of his or her own self, then even with the same level of execution, he no longer creates art, but craft.
Something to think about.
