Recently I reread John Berger’s 1976 essay, The Primitive and the Professional in which he offers three sources of the primitive in art. The first is art made by artists working prior to Raphael. Second is the art derived from the “colonies,” that is, art from Africa, the Caribbean or the South Pacific. Finally there is the art made by untrained artists—the naïve.
Berger, for his purposes, proffers a modern and Eurocentric view of primitive art and writes from a Marxist perspective. He locates the definitions, explanations and analysis of art primarily in the contexts of class, culture and economics. His emphasis is upon art as something that may be possessed, valued and exchanged. He says little about the subjective nature and satisfactions of the art making process. It’s as if the quality called art only inheres in the object.
Reading this essay got me thinking about my own practice of Art. I hold both a Masters and Bachelors degree in Studio Art from Michigan State University. I am a painter, photographer and communications designer. So I work in the realms of fine art and applied—the sacred and profane.
It also happens that I grew up underprivileged. My great-grandmother raised me and until I was old enough to work, we had only her Social Security check and a welfare allotment with which to meet our needs. Her formal education ended at the ninth grade level. So I did not grow up in a home that exposed me to high Art. Nonetheless, I went on to obtain a university education by means of the G.I. Bill, a benefit of my service as a Marine during the Vietnam War.
As a boy I liked to draw and was good at it. I liked looking at pictures. I loved the varieties of color and texture and the joy I found in pleasing shapes and arrangements. I checked out art books from the local and school libraries and took art classes in junior high and high school. I gained a reputation as being artistic. Becoming an artist seemed natural and right for me.
So when I arrived at the university I too was presented with the model Berger describes—the modern and Eurocentric model of art—the Capitalistic and consumerist model. I then began to understand art in the context of culture and class—as a signifier of status. Likewise I became aware of the artist’ status within our contemporary class structure.
Like most artists, I was and am an observer. I prefer the periphery from which I can analyze, assess, compare and contrast what I see, hear and feel. I knowingly keep a distance to preserve my options. A Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory I once took revealed me as an Intuitive, Thinking, Judging type and I agree. Being an artist demands being an outsider—a step out of sync. It demands the freedom to ask what if? Why not? Says who? It demands the courage and willingness to defy that which is commonly accepted, known and “understood.”
I concur with Berger’s analysis as far as it goes. However, I believe it is limited to understanding Art as an object within the purview of economics and politics.
In this essay, Berger does not address the artist’ subjective experience of art making. He does not examine the reason(s) the individual artist may have for making art. Nor does he consider the artist’ own definition(s) of art.
It is the confused and collapsed definition of Art that is problematic. Art in common parlance is variously used to mean: an object, a quality, an action or a practice. It is like the word love, which in one context may describe the mechanics of the sex act (they made love) and in another, the Greek concept of agape—selfless love.
The ascription of Art, as a quality, to anything is always a political and cultural decision.
Can something made intentionally for purposes of trade and commerce ever be real Art? Can real Art be made by the naïve and untutored person? Can it be made by accident? Can a computer produce it? Or must real Art evidence the freedom of the artist’ hand and mind and the caprice of momentary inspiration?
What makes art Art? And who says? The answer locates the politics. Is it Art only if the artist says it is? Or is it Art only if culturally accepted institutions, like galleries, museums and universities judge it so? Is it enough to be Art because it is skillfully and beautifully made? Or must the work show evidence of deep thought, meaning and imagination by its maker? Must a work of art be unique? Or can it be one of many machine produced and identical multiples? Why or why not?
Berger correctly posits economics and politics as the arbiters of what is culturally and socially accepted as Art—at least in modern Western society. However, the need for artistic expression—the need to make marks and objects, whether utilitarian, symbolic or purely decorative, is innately human and preexists any political ideology or economic system. In fact it is a defining feature of humans that they can make symbolic marks—marks that stand for shared meanings and concepts. This is the basis for written language and thus for the codification and sharing of mathematics, science, history and religion.
To bring this discussion into focus I want to discuss my brother Tim. Tim is five years younger than me. We have the same mother but different fathers. We did not grow up together. Early in his life Tim began having trouble with the law. This led to his incarceration in prison for several years. During that time he began to draw. His drawings betrayed a lack of formal instruction. Size relationships owed more to emotional meanings than observed differences—like those of children’s drawing. Objects were drawn as outlines and filled with color. There was little understanding of renaissance perspective and chiascuro. These were the drawings of a naïve artist. Yet they were expressive works that made manifest his feelings and did so in ways that were visually compelling and provocative. They were art as act, and art as process. They were art as personal expression. But they were not high Art—not the kind of art a museum would seek to acquire. Tim remains undiscovered.
After his release from prison Tim stopped drawing and began making carvings and constructions out of wood and scrap. He fashions detailed sailing ships, stagecoaches and windmills using humble tools. He does this without regard for efficiency or profit. He places no value on his work hour. He has no business plan or portfolio and his continuing personal and emotional problems make a professional approach to his art making and craft practically impossible. Yet he continues to make his art, probably because it is the one meaningful thing in his life. It affirms his being and gives him a sense of purpose and accomplishment—something that is uniquely his.
Tim and his art © Michael Maurer Smith 2009
Tim’s artistic expression is genuine. At the same time it is derivative. He tries to copy things he’s seen but his mental demons, lack of formal training and proper tools conspire to deny him the skill and discipline necessary to make convincing replicas at a marketable and profitable rate. Instead his pieces are improvisations, born without the pretense of theory and historical justification. They are akin to a journal compulsively kept, markers of a passage. But are they Art? I think they are. He doesn’t.
© Michael Maurer Smith 2009
I’ve long pondered the confusion of the word “art.” But ultimately, I find its definition subjective. We say something is “good art” or “bad art,” yet my judgment may be completely the reverse of yours! We argue, “Is it art or craft?” As if one is better than the other.
I find art everywhere, in everyday life. It isn’t just the things we make with artist supplies. It’s the way we work with words, set the table, devise a recipe or add a personal spin to an existing one. Some will copy until they are comfortable enough to fly with their own modifications and then creations. Others will never be able to do that, but does that make what they have created — improvised or otherwise — less?
I think not. And I agree with you. Tim’s work IS art.
Trying to define Art is a lot like trying to define Love. We all acknowledge it exists but have our own understandings of what it is. That said, art to be art requires human intention and recognition. The person making it does it purposely–not necessarily thinking “this is art,” but at least aware that they are making something subject to their judgments of taste–what works and doesn’t–a sense of the aesthetic.
Art simply does not exist in nature. Beauty exists in nature but only as it recognized by humans according their concepts of beauty. Nature has no subjective mind that says to it, “I nature will organize this according to a set of aesthetic principles.” We ascribe beauty to nature. Of course, art need not be beautiful to be art. Art can be about truths that are in fact ugly to confront. Think of Goya’s “The Third of May.”
It is also fair to say that skill and taste in art can be refined. A young child cannot be expected to appreciate a Goya, Rembrandt or Pollock painting beyond the most superficial level. They will certainly react, at a gut level, to line, color, texture and form, but they will lack the life experience to more fully appreciate the meanings and skill inherent in the works.
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