Thesis Review

Potential viewers must be aware that a visit to the Master of Fine Arts Thesis Exhibition is an underwhelming and frustrating experience. In fact, the gallery leaves one feeling angry and taken advantage of, as most of the supposed art witnessed was obscure, esoteric, and exasperating in its blatant eschewing of any consideration for the individuals taking the art pieces in. It is frustrating that the creators of the works in the gallery are leaving Washington State University with advanced graduate degrees—representing the pinnacle of their art careers so far—as most of the artists’ creations are a testament to art that requires more polishing before being placed in a gallery setting.
When entering the exhibition, one is immediately confronted by the artwork of Heather Losey McGeachy. One of the most worthy artists in the exhibition, McGeachy manages to uniquely combine her strong passion for digital media with physical means. Her vividly colored digital transparent prints (see Tyrin and Dunkoh) are constructed so that one can ‘peel apart’ the layers of her art. McGeachey explicates how her “layered imagery mimics the layers of data that form our experiences,” enabling the viewer to connect to the virtual and physical layers of his or her own life. This relationship is a stretch, but the meaning behind McGeachy’s work is clearly explained in her statements and provides viewers with an unusual but understandable perspective into the world we live in.
Unfortunately, the quality of the exhibit diminishes exponentially as one drifts further from McGeachey’s works and arrives at the sections devoted to Lauren McCleary and Dustin Price. McCleary greets viewers with a large installation piece that is an amalgamation of three separate works, Elephant Splat, Between Being, and Walk Wonder. The combined work exists in a large scale, surrounding the viewer in nearly every direction and providing one with the experience of being in the work rather than looking at it. However, viewers are largely left to fend for themselves, as McCleary gives no direction or background from which viewers can base their interpretations. The same can be said for the work of Dustin Price. A seemingly random collection of images, objects and words hangs on the walls of his exhibit. Anything seems to go for Price, from his pillow-surrounded tree in Untitled (the lack of a title leaves viewers with nothing grab on to here) to the oddly placed sweaters and spiral-rolled newspaper bits from We Are Just Fine. His works inspire no feelings beyond confusion and bewilderment, and viewers just may leave his exhibit feeling more aggravated and befuddled than when they entered.
Aggravation may be a sufficient word to describe the taste left in one’s mouth after viewing this exhibit. Looking at these theses through a Tolstoy-style theory, it is clear that, as a whole, the pieces exhibited do not clearly transmit whatever feelings the artists may be trying to convey. In fact, they leave the viewer more confused than ever. This may be intentional, as Dustin Price describes how “I understand that my process repeatedly gives way to questions that cannot be answered, but I believe attempting to understand these questions is often just as significant as answering them.” This may carry some weight, though Price and his fellow thesis presenters are perhaps giving their audience too much to try to understand, and instead of uncovering some deep meaning or symbolism within the exhibition, viewers are left in a dust of confusion and frustration. Thought and effort has clearly been put into this exhibit, but the artists must give more consideration to those viewing their works before their products can be called art.

Theory Things

Personally, I think that pretty much anything can lend itself to being analyzed in any sort of manner that one wishes. The only real difficulty lies with the ease in which something can be analyzed, and since we all like ease, I will choose to analyze Jackson Pollock. Mostly this is because I know next to nothing about Madonna or Spiderman. And while I can not claim to know much about Jackson Pollock, I think he might apply to Freud’s or Foucault’s theories more so than Spiderman or Madonna.
As I thought about this subject, I feel that both a Freudian Foucaultian analysis can be applied to Jackson Pollock. Freud says that an artist’s unconscious desires govern what is produced in their art, and I feel that Pollock fits that theory well. Pollock spoke of his need to somehow express his feelings in his art, and when he painted he seemed to be in a “zone” of sorts where his emotions could flow freely onto the canvas. I don’t think Pollock explicitly stated what emotions he was expressing in his various works of art, but it is clear that something strong was driving his works. I am sure that Pollock’s constant imbibing enhanced his emotion-expression, and Freud makes no distinctions as to whether his theory does or does not apply with the addition of alcohol (or other things for that matter).
I feel that that Foucault’s theory can apply to Jackson Pollock concurrently with Freud’s. Foucault espouses challenging artistic norms and questioning the general order of things, and Pollock certainly does this. At the time of its creation, there were not other works or art quite like those being churned out of Pollock’s studio. Pollock challenged the current status quo of what passed as art, and nowadays his works are still being analyzed. Pollock has left the meaning of his painting open to interpretation, and people try to search for meaning buried under the swirls and splatters of his paint. It is interesting to compare Freudian and Foucaultian theories, as while they are different in many ways, they can both apply to Jackson Pollock.

The Play We Watched

The Heidi Chronicles was probably something I never would have read if it were not for a class such this. With that said, I was pleasantly surprised after reading and viewing the play. Wendy Wasserstein created a unique and expressive way in which to portray the life of Heidi, a troubled person who never quite seems to find what she is looking for. The play touches on the issue of feminism—an issue that I have never given much thought to or worried about. In my view of the play, Wasserstein used Heidi to try on a number of brands of lifestyle in hopes finding one that would make Heidi happy. We see Heidi touch bases with everything from frightening feminist meetings (with potty mouth Fran) to involvement in strange relationships with her guy friends, homosexual Peter and domineering Scoop. All along the way Heidi tries to find herself, and at the end, I think she does. After years of “not being happy,” Heidi finally realizes what is important to her and stops trying to be a person that she is not.
I did, however, have trouble figuring out what the whole message of the play was, if there was one. As we talked about in class, The Heidi Chronicles was not a typical kind of play with an introduction, middle-part, climax…and so on, but rather it was more like a camera filming scenes and moving through time. At the end, I felt sort of a “well now what?” feeling, as if the play left me hanging and confused. Maybe that was Wasserstein’s point—to stop at a point where Heidi’s life if turning around and leave the viewer to surmise about what could happen next.
The play left me feeling sorry for Heidi, as she became caught up in a movement trying to break down the traditional social and gender barriers surrounding women. This is certainly a fight that I am not opposed to, though Heidi—and her friends—tried hard to an almost fanatical degree (Heidi not so much), and ended up missing out on happiness and enjoyment of life. This may not make sense to you, the poor person trying understand the garbled thoughts coming from my head, but I think my point would be that in one’s effort to become happy, it can be easy to lose sight of what really makes you happy and instead become less happy.

Nietzche and Tolstoy

So far in class we have discussed a number of art theories, some of which I find more meaningful than others. Our analysis of Plato, for instance, reinforced my opinion that his theory of art was confusing and not applicable to modern day situations. The last two theorists we have discussed—Nietzsche and Tolstoy—in a way exemplify my thoughts on art theories. Nietzsche’s theory seems rather bizarre and esoteric to me, while Tolstoy’s down-to-earth thoughts are relatable and comprehensible.
Nietzsche discusses art in an off-the-wall manner that I never would think of myself. Granted, I am not from Nietzsche’s time and hence wouldn’t look at things in the same way he did. Maybe it is the terminology Nietzsche uses that confuses me (and others, I imagine). Maybe I am supposed to familiar with the concepts behind such terms as “Apollonian” and “Dionysian”, but I am not and therefore have to learn not only his theory but the words he uses to describe his theory as well. Once studied though, the order and structure described in Nietzsche’s Apollonian characteristics contrasts well with the chaos and complexity of the Dionysian. To me, Nietzsche seems to be trying to quantify the feeling of an artwork.
In contrast, Tolstoy tries to present discrete, uniform criteria based on specific characteristics for which to classify art by. In class, we even learned about a “3 step” process by which to judge art with. This method makes the most sense to me as it is more relatable. As an engineering student I spend my days classifying things based on characteristics and not on feeling, so it is only natural I suppose that I “get” Tolstoy’s theory of art.
In my previous blog post, I tried to look at Jackson Pollock’s art through a Tolstoy filter. This got me thinking, however, that maybe some theories are more applicable to different kinds of art. I had some trouble fitting Tolstoy to Pollock, as Pollock’s work is hard to classify and the meaning behind it can be somewhat cloudy. It is, however, based heavily on feeling and I feel that applying Nietzsche ‘s theory and calling it “Dionysian” might make a little more sense.

I’m still not quite sure what to make of Jackson Pollock’s work. My gut reaction to seeing his work is probably similar to that of many other people—sort of a “come on, really?!” exclamation. When we discovered that the most expensive painting ever sold was a Pollock piece, we heard a chorus of statements amounting to, basically, that a 2nd grader could produce better work. I have to agree. For all we know, Pollock’s paint rack might have fallen over onto his canvas one day, inadvertently (or conveniently) creating something resembling art. I personally don’t like Pollock’s paintings and can not begin to understand it. As an art layperson trying to “get” Pollock, I feel like a 2 year old trying to understand the federal tax code. Not that most adults do for that matter. But with that said, I have a hard criticizing somebody who can create works so widely successful and admired. What is it about Pollock’s paintings that give them such great value? I don’t know, and as such would not pay large sums of money for his work except as an investment perhaps.

Looking at Pollock through Tolstoy’s art theory (while it is still fresh in everyone’s heads), we can see that Pollock certainly satisfies Tolstoy’s first condition for art: individuality of feeling. From learning about Pollock’s background and viewing his short video, he clearly puts a great deal of emotion into every painting. To him, the paintings are his personality and feelings. Pollock says he wants to “express his feelings rather than illustrate them,” and he accomplishes this by being “in” the painting where he feels more at home. Similarly, Pollock is sincere in the emotion he tries to transmit. However, he personally falls short in my book in the clearness with which he transmits whatever he is trying to say. Maybe I am base and simpleton, but despite all the hype and high prices commanded by Pollock paintings, I simply do not understand his works.

Faking It????

I take slight issue with the way Faking It tries to turn Paul, a self described non-artistic individual, into a “true artist.” Faking It seems to have a narrow view of what they are trying to transform Paul into, and their attempts to blend Paul into the established art community remove some of Paul’s open-thinking creativity.
In the beginning of the four-week “transformation period”, Paul is given free reign to create pretty much whatever he thinks is artistic, and his creative side expands into new areas he did not even know he could go. However, this artistic freedom is checked after a week or so as his tutors, who professionally produce art for a living, guide him towards making what they deem as acceptable art. Despite attempting to put passion and voice into his works, Paul is being somewhat molded into a stereotypical artist, someone who can fit in and mingle with the elites of the art community. Part of fitting into this stereotype involves transforming Paul’s image from who he is currently is towards somebody that his tutors think would be more accepted by other artists. To me, their message says that to look like an artist is to be an artist, and Paul seems to take this in stride by happily buying new clothes and cutting his hair. The result is a new identity for Paul, and while I do not agree with the show’s notion that to succeed in art (or anything for that matter) one must mimic other’s identities in creating their own, Paul’s new self jumpstarts him into playing the role of an artist—and after all, this show is about jumpstarting and doing things quickly.
It will be interesting to see how Paul’s month-long art “career” culminates, for despite being shaped into an artistic mold, his work is quite impressive for somebody with no art background. Of course, I am somebody with no art background as well, so my opinion may or may not be valid. I do, however, feel that it is hard to be a “fake” artist. The works Paul is creating are clearly not fake, and I find it hard to believe that others not in the know about his TV show situation would view his art as fake, if there is such a thing.

The Painter of LIght.......And Money

To me, the likes of Thomas Kincade’s company and the Art Capital outfit represent a uniquely American attitude towards art. A raw, capitalist, money-craving attitude governs both of these operations, and I have no surprise that the singularly intellectual world of art should intersect with the beast that is American economic and marketing power.
Art Capital Group seems to send a somewhat hypocritical message. From their own website, through “combining expertise in finance and fine art, we provide customized solutions to the fine and decorative art world.” It seems that they try to create an aura of art appreciation and concern, a safe place to go for discerning art lovers who happen to be in need of some quick cash. This is all well and good, but there is something deeper in what Art Capital is doing. By turning art into loans, they are devaluing the aesthetic intent of the art and turning it into an anonymous commodity. This practice is certainly nothing new (just look at auction houses such as Christies and Sotheby’s), though Art Capital Group puts a new spin on making art more of a commodity rather than art.
This concept ties in rather well with what Thomas Kinkade is doing with his art. Honestly, I had no idea of the scale or methods of Kincade’s art business operation until watching the 60 Minutes piece on him. While Morley Safer’s position on Kincade was obviously critical, it was hard for me not to feel both disgusted and impressed at the same time. Kincade’s products are art, but they are art that has been disconnected from the artist and scaled in such a way that the end result appears more mechanical than passionate. Sure, Kincade does personally create all of his paintings, but he creates them with a formula that is designed to sell. His paintings are equivalent to The Hardy Boys books—good natured, mass produced, virtually identical products not taken seriously by connoisseurs of the trade. In fact, Kincades’s devoted customers seems are in many ways similar to the children Hardy Boys are targeted to. He has found a formula that sells, and he is doing everything in his power to reach any person he possibly can. As much as I disagree with the principal of Kincade’s art, I can be impressed with his brilliant marketing. He knows whom he wants to sell to and targets people who may not ordinarily consider purchasing anything artistic. Using various selling ploys, like introducing God into his sales pitches, he finds devoted customers to continually throw more products at. For the rest of us with our heads out of the sand, we can admire (or cringe) at Kincade’s sales genius following in the footsteps of other marketing giants like Disney and Apple. Kincade is open and forthright about what he does, and while I don’t like his devaluing of art, we all have a choice of whether to buy his products or not. Trust me, I won’t.

"Running The Numbers" Review

As I walked out of Chris Jordan’s Running The Numbers exhibit, I was left with a sort of humbled and self-conscious feeling, as if I had just been scolded for something I was not aware I had done. Running The Numbers provided an almost raw look into the vast realm of American consumerism, using unique and creative methods to induce viewers to think about the mundane and banal aspects of our resource-intensive lives.

Running The Numbers is a collection of digitally manipulated photographs that depict the large-scale consumption humans regularly partake in today. Images of such things as the number of cell phones retired in America every day (426000) or the amount of shipping containers passing through U.S. ports every twelve hours (38000) are the characters in Jordan’s story of consumerism, and Jordan’s works show these objects—laid out in the actual amounts he mentions—in creative, artistic ways. Standing wide and tall, the large physical size of Jordan’s photographs create an almost surreal atmosphere in which to ponder the subject matter at hand. Works such as Prison Uniforms (2007) sit at nearly 25 feet long and half that distance high, leaving the viewer feeling rather minute next to such an object, which, I imagine, is Jordan’s intention.

Jordan uses a unique method of incorporating both the large and small scale to increase the impact of his work. Take, for example, the aforementioned Prison Uniforms. The huge scale strikes viewers first, and from a distance one could surmise that the work is nothing more that a large monotone reddish-brown panel. Moving closer, though, it becomes apparent that the color comes from a countless number of minute orange stacked prison uniforms. Jordan’s description informs us that we are actually looking at 2.3 million uniforms—a depiction of the number of American incarcerated in 2005. Walking through the exhibit quickly becomes a game of sorts where the object is to figure out exactly which shameful aspect of our culture Jordan is depicting.

The images in Running The Numbers are only half of the equation that is Jordan’s collection. The other half lives on a small, inconspicuous sign posted next to each photograph where statistics describing the associated images are located. As the uniqueness of each image draws viewers in, it is the statistics that relate what Jordan is really trying to impress upon his audience. Numbers we would likely not otherwise know, such as the number of aluminum cans used ever thirty seconds (106000, from Cans Seurat (2007)) are shown in sticking manners, effectively and uniquely carrying Jordan’s message. It could be called into question whether the use of such statistical data, which Jordan culled from other people’s sources, really constitutes art rather than some form of photojournalism. I feel, however, that the manner in which Jordan transforms pure statistics into a poignant visual element is unique among art and serves to make his audience think about their actions.

In describing his own work, Jordan says “my hope is that these photographs can serve as portals to a kind of cultural self-inquiry.” While Jordan’s message may not reach the majority of the American’s he criticizes, the passion he puts into his work serves as a stark reminder to us all that individual actions add up to make a bigger picture that, ultimately, we are all responsible for.

Judging Stuff

First of all, I must disclaim that I had an incredibly hard time deciphering Kant’s dense, cluttered writing style. Despite reading and re-reading pages from both the book and packet, I still do not have a solid idea about what Kant is really trying to say.
The question relating judgment of objects to beauty is interesting. Earlier, Kant discussed how beauty can be almost like a physical property of an object, something measurable and defined. Therefore, if we judge objects solely according to concepts, we are not truly judging an object’s beauty. These concepts, as I interpret it, are things in our heads such as feelings and reactive emotions to a particular object. I feel Kant is saying that if we apply our emotions to judging something, we are not truly judging its beauty. This of course applies only if we subscribe to the notion that beauty truly is an intrinsic quality to an object that cannot be changed.
Personally, I partially agree with the above statement. I feel that there are some things, such as nature, that have elements of “pre-installed” beauty. Going back to what I took away from Conniff’s article, I feel that nature has particular qualities of beauty that appeal to all people throughout the world, thus making beauty universally applicable to nature—something that is just a part of what it is.
At the same time, I also feel that beauty follows the personal whims of whoever is judging an object beautiful. As we have discussed previously, our personal take on any object (both in judging its beauty and any other qualities we may judge it on) is both a product of its natural qualities and our personal experiences that shape our judgments. I may judge something beautiful that another person judges oppositely. In this manner, I agree with Kant’s sentiments that judgments are universal and necessary. People expect others to agree with us on our particular opinions of an object. Each person has their own ideas regarding the qualities of an object, and it is this constant tugging of different ideas that gives us many unique perspectives on just about anything.

Subjective Perceptions

After reading Hume’s On The Standard of Taste, I had my strongest opinions concerning the first part of his essay. I have to agree with his views regarding individual’s particular sentiments on objects. Hume states “…a thousand different sentiments, excited by the same object, are all right: Because no sentiment represents what is really in the object.” This could not be truer in my opinion, as my personal views of art are strongly anchored by the notion of art largely being a product of a viewer’s perception, in addition to the original intentions of the artist. To explicate this, Hume discusses beauty. Beauty is a quality that is solely in our minds, as it is an intangible idea that every person perceives slightly differently. In reading this, I thought back to our discussions on Plato and his views on reality versus ideas. In much the same manner as I see ideas being an extension of reality, I feel sentiments on art or any other subjects are simply an extension of our personal take on the matter. Our own take is based on a myriad of experiences unique to each individual that have shaped us as a person, thus placing us in the position to judge an object in a number of ways different from others.
Now, not every person has had sufficient life experiences to make an informed opinion on every matter. There is simply no way. As a result we look to other, more learned and specialized scholars, to guide us in shaping our opinions on matters we perceive. This may, I feel, be the rough standard of taste Hume was trying to seek out. Other people specialize in something—such as the wine critic example Hume cited—and others (such as non-wine critics, which includes most people) look to these specialists to provide a standard of which to judge things by. I do not feel that standards are absolute, as any person could create their own. However, the concept of “taste” is an interesting one, as it is highly subjective.

is it art....or an idea.....or reality?

This notion of art being only a base form of imitation struck me as an interesting viewpoint. Plato’s take on the matter says that all art is simply a mere imitation of reality, and that this is harmful to people trying to take something away from the art. I had a hard time following Plato’s thoughts on ideas versus reality versus art though. If ideas are the only true meaning of something, then how can the reality of that something be any less meaningful than the idea of it? For instance, how can the reality of a nice mountain scene be less meaningful than the idea of it? Reality is grounded; there is no changing it. In my opinion, an idea of something is really just an imitation of the reality, as one person’s ideas on a particular object can be vastly different than somebody else’s take on the same thing. In this respect, art is just an extension of an individual’s take on reality and is not supposed to be an accurate depiction of reality. After all, if I wanted to see the Matterhorn I could simply go and see it in person. If I wanted to see an person’s personal depiction of the mountain, I could go look at a painting of it knowing full well that I am not viewing reality. The same holds true for other mediums besides paintings.

Aristotle’s take makes more sense to me. He countered Plato by claiming that instead of art being intrinsically bad and distorting people’s view of reality, it can actually be a good thing. Art can appeal to individual’s senses and educate them about life, providing cathartic effects. People imitate things they see all the time. Think of a pretty sunset. Obviously there is no way for us to recreate that phenomenon, though we can attempt to capture our feelings about it through mediums we know how to use—things such as paintings or poetry. In a sense, we are imitating the sunset, just in a way that is feasible to us. That is how art works. Art is merely our perception of something and should not be confused with reality.

The Natural World

After reading The Natural Art, I started thinking about things and places I find enjoyable. I love the outdoors and seeing new places, and more often than not I’ve thought about what I would do if somehow I could mold my own little world together and create a place to live that has all the attributes I consider desirable for living. In my mind, my perfect world would have rolling green hills interspersed with groves of trees, my comfy house would be perched on a nice hummock that affords a view of the rural surroundings. Flowing through my little domain would be a quaint little stream, and maybe I’d have a pond or a lake for good measure. So in other words, it would look something like the Shire from Lord of the Rings.
With this in my head, I was surprised to see how well this all melded with what was discussed in the article. Apparently I’m just like any other human and susceptible to falling to my unconscious likes and dislikes. I can’t speak for the accuracy of the views presented in the reading, as I’m not a scientist who can say if it is right or wrong. Much of it seemed like speculation, though I feel it is certainly very plausible speculation. The notion that human’s behavior is shaped by our early past and loaded into our very genes does not at all seem unlikely to me. Just off the top of my head I can think of a few examples of other animals that still exhibit behavior that harkens back to a time when they needed it to survive. Housecats still perch on tall things to afford a view of their surroundings, and gerbils burrow down out of sight when they go to sleep. Why should humans not have inherent influences at work in our minds when we pick places to call home? Maybe it is no wonder that what people consider nice homes often share qualities such as big yards, pools, large trees and views. This falls right in line with the article’s concept that we pick places resembling our early habitat, places that are optimized for our safety, and ultimately, our survival. I suppose I was literally doing what felt right when daydreaming about my perfect place to live.