Artless

Why do intelligent people no longer care about art?

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The fine arts don’t matter any more to most educated people. This is not a statement of opinion; it is a statement of fact.

As recently as the late 20th century, well-educated people were expected to be able to bluff their way through a dinner party with at least some knowledge of “the fine arts” — defined, since the late 18th century, as painting, sculpture, orchestral or symphonic music, as distinct from popular music, and dance/ballet. (“Starchitects” notwithstanding, architecture has never really been one of the fine arts — it is too utilitarian, too collaborative and too public).

A few decades ago, in American gentry circles, it would have been a terrible faux pas not to have heard of Martha Graham. You were expected to know the difference between a French impressionist and an abstract expressionist. Being taken to the symphony and ballet as a child was a rite of initiation into what Germans call the Bildungsburgertum (the cultivated bourgeoisie).

The “back of the book” in widely-read journals like The New Republic and The Nation regularly reviewed the latest developments in the New York “art scene.” If you skipped over those sections, you did so with a guilty conscience if you wanted to be a card-carrying member of the intelligentsia.

This is no longer the case. The latest issue of the venerable New York Review of Books, to be sure, has an essay on the new Whitney Museum of American Art in New York. But to judge from zines like Vox, the younger generation of literate and well-educated Americans have an intense interest in literate cable television shows like “Game of Thrones” and the issues of race and gender in Marvel Comics movies. Trends in American painting ever since the plate paintings of Julian Schnabel are not a big subject of debate among Millennials. As far as I can tell, very few college-educated people under the age of 50 pay any attention to the old fine arts at all. A search of the newer literary journal n+1 for traditional reviews of gallery shows revealed only this essay by Dushko Petrovich — from 2005:

Painting has been both dead and back for a little while now, and Greater New York is no exception. Painting hangs out with harsh videos, miniature amusement park rides, and big photos of failed politicians…Many of the paintings seem simply to wish not to keep going, which, if they were sentences or pop songs, would be expected of them. As it is, they can get away with a pose. Their audience, however, is less still and moves swiftly toward the café.

There is still an art world, to be sure, in New York and London and Paris and elsewhere. But it is as insular and marginal as the fashion world, with a similar constituency of rich buyers interacting with producers seeking to sell their wares and establish their brands. Members of the twenty-first century educated elite, even members of the professoriate, will not embarrass themselves if they have never heard of the Venice Biennale.

Many of the Arts Formerly Known as Fine seem to have lost even a small paying constituency among rich people, and live a grant-to-mouth existence. In the old days, bohemian painters lived in garrets and tried to interest gallery owners in their work. Their modern heirs — at least the ones fortunate to have university jobs — can teach classes and apply for grants from benevolent foundations, while creating works of art that nobody may want to buy. Born in bohemia, many aging arts have turned universities into their nursing homes.

What happened? How is it that, in only a generation or two, educated Americans went from at least pretending to know and care about the fine arts to paying no attention at all?

The late Hilton Kramer, editor of The New Criterion, blamed the downfall of the fine arts on purveyors of Pop Art like Andy Warhol. And Jeff Koons, who replaced Arnoldian “high seriousness” and the worship of capital-c Culture with iconoclasm, mockery, and irony. A Great Tradition of two millenia that could be felled by Andy Warhol must have been pretty feeble! But the whole idea of a Phidias-to-Pollock tradition of Great Western Art was unhistorical. The truth is that the evolution (or if you like the degeneration) from Cezanne to Warhol was inevitable from the moment that royal, aristocratic and ecclesiastical patronage was replaced by the market.

Having lost their royal and aristocratic patrons, and finding little in the way of public patronage in modern states, artists from the 19th century to the 21st have sought new patrons among the wealthy people and institutions who have formed the tiny art market. It was not the mockery of Pop artists but the capitalist art market itself which, in its ceaseless quest for novelty, trivialized and marginalized the arts.

The dynamic is clearest in the case of painting and allied visual arts. Markets tend to prize fashionable novelty over continuity. The shocking and sensational get more attention than subtle variations on traditional conventions and themes. Capitalism, applied to the fine arts, created the arms race that led to increasingly drastic departures from premodern artistic tradition, until finally, by the late 20th century, “art” could be everything and therefore nothing.

The textbooks in my college art history classes lied about this. The texts treated the sequence from Cezanne to Picasso to Pollock as purely formal developments within a tradition unaffected by vulgar commercial considerations, like fads and branding and bids for attention — unlike, say, the rise and fall of fins on cars.

In fact Picasso, like Warhol and Koons after him, Picasso was rewarded by the market for pushing the boundaries a bit further for a progressively-jaded audience of rich individual and institutional collectors. The novelty-driven art they produced for private purchasers was and is different in kind from the traditional art commissioned for church and state.

The process of escalating sensationalism ultimately reaches its reductio ad absurdum in any fashion-based industry. In the case of painting and sculpture the point of exhaustion was reached by the 1970s with Pop Art and minimalist art and earth art and conceptual art. Can a row of cars be art? Sure. Can an empty canvas be art? Sure. Does anybody care? No.

That’s why I want my money back.

The share of my college tuition that went to a few art history classes wouldn’t amount to much, even with interest. But the time I that wasted on studying what, in hindsight, was nothing more than a series of ephemeral stylistic fashions among rich people in the Paris and New York art worlds, of no lasting significance whatsoever, is time that I could have been devoted to subjects of real cultural importance to members of educated people in our own day and age. Like Marvel comic book heroes and the movies they inspire. •

Michael Lind is a contributing writer of The Smart Set, a fellow at New America in Washington, D.C., and author of Land of Promise: An Economic History of the United States.
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6 Comments on "Artless"


LouisTorres
9 months 3 days ago

“. . . by the late 20th century, “art” could be everything and therefore nothing.” How true, which leads me to believe that when Michael Lind writes “Can a row of cars be art? Sure. Can an empty canvas be art? Sure” the “sures” represent the view of those who believe that “art” can be anything, not his. I hope so!

Louis Torres, Co-Editor, Aristos (An Online Review of the Arts) and Co-Author, ‘What Art Is: The Esthetic Theory of Ayn Rand’ (2000) – http://www.aristos.org

J. McMahan
10 months 7 days ago

Perhaps it is less a case of the modern intelligentsia being unconcerned and unknowledgable about the fine arts and more a case of the author including too many undeserving folk in the “well educated” category, himself among them.

Saba
10 months 8 days ago

This may have a potentially accurate estimation of millenial/generation x’s appreciation of the art world, however, the underlying message that painting and fine art as the creative and philosophical realm of man lacks relevance anymore and one’s education within its boundaries being considered a waste, to me, comes off as if the author is implying that personal interests ought to be pursued to please your surrounding audience and society…which is, plainly put, stupid.

John McGrath
10 months 9 days ago

Funny, more or less true. Could one factor in the decline of the fine arts as serious rather than decorative (you know, couch art) be the dominance of the Economics major at elite universities?

Aside from the tyranny Economics (modern theology), some context before my next thought. I live in an artsy neighborhood (it’s full of them as well as many many bands, a good number quite talented). I go to live theater (cheap where I live), some of it experimental. I attend music concerts (not classical, too expensive). I listen to all sorts of music (iTunes, you know). Some of Eminem reminds me of Greek tragedy (studied it in the original language). I don’t do video games, but I get the aesthetic appeal as well as the action appeal. Comic book art is big in my neighborhood and I’ve dabbled (free workshops). Indie movies also matter, as do some TV shows. Many graduates of elite schools (not me) I bump into have been well indoctrinated in post-modernism, theory, text, hegemony, etc. Not much exposure to modernism.

OK, let’s get to modernism in literature and art. To the point: modernistic works were based on the modern idea that we are a meaning making species rather than merely a logical/mainly rational species, although through science we can discover certain laws and models that are valid rather than eternally true in accounting for observed and predictable phenomena. At any rate in both the arts and science meaning comes from exploring, through our senses, our experience in this physical world rather than aiming mentally, in our heads, to travel to some transcendent, metaphysical world. The main event was the overthrow, through empiricism and experiment, of the medieval intellectual construct of a transcendent world of absolutes and Truth, of Platonic forms, of essences that precede and guide worthy human action. To the modernist mind essences exist but they are created by humans. Some are institutionalized and come to us through tradition. Others are delivered tous through our onw experience and the works of created people.

So, blah blah, modernist art and literature served to educate our senses, to shift how we perceive and thereby, from perception, make meanings. It helped us, like science, to see the world differently. No surprise that there was an interplay between discoveries in science and what artists and literateurs were up to. In an amusing way, the movie Pulp Fiction is an example of this, illustrating the Sartrean existentialism of movement from passivity to consciousness, from meaningless routine and conformity to choosing a project, a value by which we will live meaningfully. The boxer, for instance, becomes inspired by his father’s story and watch, accepts military honor as his own value, and acts accordingly, making his project to live as an honorable warrior/knight who fights to express his authenticity, his excellence, that is, to win; and who rescues the distressed, even at the possible cost of his own life.

But back to little, very little, me and my experience in the world. I find that much art going around is really derivative of something studied. it does not really educate the senses in any enlightening way. BUT i have turned back to photography by young people who have not been near an elite school. Each of the photos is a mediation between their senses and the world, a mediation I can enter and experience and from there refresh my senses, my perception of my little town and what goes in it. The photographer makes meaning throogh the senses and his chosen perceptions, and I can make meaning from the photographer’s experience in the world. My world thus become more meaningful.I am impelled from the slough of my aging decline into some kind of spiritual youth.

But then I’m retired, an outsider, so i can indulge all this. It is the genius of modern American capitalism that it make the acquisition of power and things and resources so very attractive, So much more attractive than art or literature. it makes most talented and educated people get busy pursuing some shifting version of the American dream (left or right or apolitical) Maybe only we old geezers, even those of us with scant money but educated in the modernist endeavor, have the time to go around making personal meaning out of our own and other people’s senses/observations/experiences. I would not know, but that’s my story.

James Kraus
10 months 9 days ago

An excellent analysis.

It has been decades since I was a regular on the gallery circuit; I lost interest once I realized that the conventional art of paint-on-canvas basically died in the early seventies. At that point just about every style and -ism had been fully explored.

Certainly the market had a strong influence, but I think another factor was at play; the medium had become exhausted. Once the basics of light and perspective had been truly mastered, it became increasingly challenging to really differentiate one’s work. To some degree the artist is stimulated by creating something new rather than something slightly different; thus the proliferation of the –ism.

20th Century art will always be my favorite as to me its explosion of creativity and variety represents the swan song of conventional painting. With abstract expressionists and the combine paintings of Rauschenberg at one pole, and photorealism and the monochrome canvases of Ad Reinhardt at the other, there was nowhere left to go.

Louis Torres
9 months 3 days ago

There was a “swan song of conventional painting” in the twentieth century? Not so. Here’s the work of a bunch of painters and sculptors who studied at the Florence Academy of Art that suggests just the opposite: http://www.florenceacademyofart.com/en/alumni-gallery/. One of the best of them: Charles Weed – http://www.charlesweed.com. Here are others, members of the Grand Central Atelier in New York City: http://grandcentralatelier.org/colleen-barry.php. You may not like this work, much of which is more than “slightly different,” but it exists. There was no “swan song.”

Louis Torres, Co-Editor, Aristos (An Online Review of the Arts) and Co-Author, ‘What Art Is: The Esthetic Theory of Ayn Rand’ (2000) – http://www.aristos.org