Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Art and aesthetics. What makes beauty? I think my favorite painting, so far, in this lifetime, is Monet's "Waterlilies." I'm not sure what it is about this painting that draws me to it, but, for me, there is beauty there, an extreme and undeniable beauty. It's not just the colors, or the scene, but there seems to be something extraordinary about the painting, something ephemeral and hard to characterize, and I think that it's in this zone that beauty lies. The zone between the rational analysis of a piece of art -- looking at the colors, the narrative, the scene -- and the subjective, personal response to a piece.
When I look at a piece of art, it's a complicated process deciding whether I like it or not. First of all, I almost never trust my first impression. It's like judging a book by the cover. I learned early on in my reading career that doing so often led me astray. I began my reading life as a science fiction reader, and I used to pick out books just based on their covers, based on covers that sent the right messages to me. I was generally looking for high fantasy, the kind of writing with a hero who is confronted with a crisis, which, initially, he is unprepared to deal with, but through the aid of a wizened guide, learns what he/she needs to know in order to overcome the obstacles.
This system of choosing books led me away from authors like Katherine Kurtz because her covers are generally pretty damn lame, but she's a great writer.
"The zone between the rational analysis of a piece of art -- looking at the colors, the narrative, the scene -- and the subjective, personal response to a piece."
Is this true? I'm not sure what I mean by this. WhatI'm trying to explain is the point between what everyone recognizes as good about a piece of art, and, hmmm. Let's look at music instead and see if I can draw an parallels or a better definition of this.
Last spring, I watched American Idol for the first time in my life. I'm not sure why I got into watching this show, maybe because of all the buzz I kept hearing about it, and all the talk around the offices about it, so I started watching it. Early on, I realized there is a quality to some people's voices that is hard to characterize or describe, but which clearly places them above others.
Nope, this isn't it either because when I'm talking about American Idol, that quality of voice, I think, is identifiable by all, and what I'm talking about with art is how a painting speaks to you on a personal level.
Again, I always question my first response to a piece of art. When Cheech Marin's Hispanic Art exhibit came through St. Louis last year, I walked through there liking every piece . . . initially. I was drawn to the Hispanic art because of the incredibly bright and vibrant colors. They were all happy colors, bold colors, in-your-face colors and I like that quality of color, generally. It's funny because Monet does not use this kind of color palette . . . .
Initially, I liked them all, but then as I began to look closer at the scene, some of the paintings fell from my like-list.
This still isn't getting at what I'm trying to say. Simplify, simplify, simplify.
What I'm trying to say is this: you can look at a painting and think it's pretty. But that's not enough to make great art. You can view the scene and think it's quaint, nice, peaceful, calming, whatever. You have a reaction, and it's generally positive, just like everyone else. But what makes you LOVE the piece, and why I might love something while others just appreciate the simple beauty.
I love Monet's Waterlilies. I can sit and look at that painting for 60 minutes and not get bored. The scene draws me in -- it's peaceful -- and the colors blend and whorl around the canvas and I like following those colors and seeing where they divide. But there is also something I can't quite describe about the painting, and this is where my own personal sense of aesthetic comes into play. This is the zone I'm talking about but I don't see this zone and solely subjective. There is a quality of Monet's piece that allows for this, and that's what also makes Monet a great painter.
I don't get the same sense when I look at Warhol. His work is interesting, and intellectual, but my experience with Warhol doesn't have this same sublime quality, this getting lost in the simple beauty. With Warhol, I get lost in the historical and cultural messages, not the beauty.
When I look at a piece of art, it's a complicated process deciding whether I like it or not. First of all, I almost never trust my first impression. It's like judging a book by the cover. I learned early on in my reading career that doing so often led me astray. I began my reading life as a science fiction reader, and I used to pick out books just based on their covers, based on covers that sent the right messages to me. I was generally looking for high fantasy, the kind of writing with a hero who is confronted with a crisis, which, initially, he is unprepared to deal with, but through the aid of a wizened guide, learns what he/she needs to know in order to overcome the obstacles.
This system of choosing books led me away from authors like Katherine Kurtz because her covers are generally pretty damn lame, but she's a great writer.
"The zone between the rational analysis of a piece of art -- looking at the colors, the narrative, the scene -- and the subjective, personal response to a piece."
Is this true? I'm not sure what I mean by this. WhatI'm trying to explain is the point between what everyone recognizes as good about a piece of art, and, hmmm. Let's look at music instead and see if I can draw an parallels or a better definition of this.
Last spring, I watched American Idol for the first time in my life. I'm not sure why I got into watching this show, maybe because of all the buzz I kept hearing about it, and all the talk around the offices about it, so I started watching it. Early on, I realized there is a quality to some people's voices that is hard to characterize or describe, but which clearly places them above others.
Nope, this isn't it either because when I'm talking about American Idol, that quality of voice, I think, is identifiable by all, and what I'm talking about with art is how a painting speaks to you on a personal level.
Again, I always question my first response to a piece of art. When Cheech Marin's Hispanic Art exhibit came through St. Louis last year, I walked through there liking every piece . . . initially. I was drawn to the Hispanic art because of the incredibly bright and vibrant colors. They were all happy colors, bold colors, in-your-face colors and I like that quality of color, generally. It's funny because Monet does not use this kind of color palette . . . .
Initially, I liked them all, but then as I began to look closer at the scene, some of the paintings fell from my like-list.
This still isn't getting at what I'm trying to say. Simplify, simplify, simplify.
What I'm trying to say is this: you can look at a painting and think it's pretty. But that's not enough to make great art. You can view the scene and think it's quaint, nice, peaceful, calming, whatever. You have a reaction, and it's generally positive, just like everyone else. But what makes you LOVE the piece, and why I might love something while others just appreciate the simple beauty.
I love Monet's Waterlilies. I can sit and look at that painting for 60 minutes and not get bored. The scene draws me in -- it's peaceful -- and the colors blend and whorl around the canvas and I like following those colors and seeing where they divide. But there is also something I can't quite describe about the painting, and this is where my own personal sense of aesthetic comes into play. This is the zone I'm talking about but I don't see this zone and solely subjective. There is a quality of Monet's piece that allows for this, and that's what also makes Monet a great painter.
I don't get the same sense when I look at Warhol. His work is interesting, and intellectual, but my experience with Warhol doesn't have this same sublime quality, this getting lost in the simple beauty. With Warhol, I get lost in the historical and cultural messages, not the beauty.
Labels: Loops . . . .
