The Square Life

Sixteen years ago, the artist Tom Friedman created a work of art in which he hired a witch to curse an 11-inch sphere 11 inches above a pedestal. The work, titled “Untitled (Cursed Space),” is entirely invisible. There is nothing physically there, though the pedestal is arguably part of the work, necessary to reference the invisible space. Friedman actually built a crate large enough for the “space” to reside while being shipped from location to location. He brought into question the very notion of what a sculpture could be—a question other artists had asked before, but not in the same way.
Now, at some point in your life, you may have viewed a work of art and thought, “Why is THAT considered art? I could have done that.” You may be thinking that right now about “Cursed Space.” I have had similar thoughts about certain works of art, but my understanding of art history and the purposes of art today have led me to approach art in a different sort of way. Most of the time, instead of questioning the possibility of an object’s status as art (especially when it is declared as such), I prefer to question why it is made out of a particular material, why it looks a certain way, what the artist is trying to communicate, what the work relates to in the world, and what possible significance the work holds for me.
The art critic and philosopher Arthur C. Danto believes—and this is only one of several influential—that up until the Early Renaissance, individuals were making mere objects, not artworks. It was only when certain “craftsmen” realized they were making things or creating images that dealt with issues beyond function, such as perspective or anatomical correctness, that art was made.
To make a very long story short, Danto believes that artists ventured to make art objects that dealt with these internal artistic issues for a long time. That journey ended just 40 or 50 years ago, about the time Andy Warhol created his Brillo Box sculptures. Warhol created the sculptures to be indistinguishable from real Brillo boxes, philosophically questioning what objects could be considered art, since from that point on theoretically anything could be. Danto believes this moment in art history changed art making forever, and artists are now free to make art from anything, about anything.

Another perspective views Minimal Art as the catalyst for this shift. I’ll make a plug now for the BYU Museum of Art and congratulate them on their recent show Turning Point. I really hope you were able to see it for yourself. The show’s thesis was all about the art movement Minimalism’s transitional role in redefining and re-introducing “meaning” back into the art world after a relatively long period of abstraction and Greenbergian ideology. From this transition came endless possibilities. It may have been the most important art exhibit Utah has ever seen.
Hopefully this little bit of art history may help you understand the purpose of art today. The truth is, there is no one purpose; there are many. Art can be decorative and beautiful (a relative thing itself), but rather than being just beautiful, contemporary art might ask questions about the very notion of beauty and the different types of beauty that may exist. Contemporary art often explores outside itself into science, literature, performance, and every other possible area. In a recent exhibit I experienced at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City, the artist Pipilotti Rist created a huge video art installation titled “Pour Your Body Out (7354 Cubic Meters),” where she projected a very psychedelic video with an almost a complete 360 degree field of vision. Museum visitors were invited to take their shoes off and lay down on a giant donut shaped sofa surrounded by plush white shag carpet. The entire project was experientially remarkable, but also created an environment not often associated with a museum. People were literally laying on the floor all over the place. It broke barriers that traditionally exist within galleries and museums. The viewers were on the floor, with their shoes off, and some were even sleeping: all different experiences that oppose the traditional practice of quietly and reverently viewing artworks in a white space. In actuality, artists have been playing with the culture of the gallery for a number of years. This work was not groundbreaking in any respects—it was just an excellent example of how art can be engaging and experiential.
The work was not meant to show up the work of her contemporaries, but had its own significance and meaning. The artist did not create a photo realistic picture of a landscape, but rather portrayed a landscape where the viewer could experience it, not just through the sense of sight. And on top of all of this—the viewer’s experience was relevant to the work, and even completed it, unlike the self contained works of modernism. I do not want to be misleading however—artists such as John Currin and Elizabeth Peyton are still creating traditional paintings through traditional methods, and this type of practice is equally relevant and significant. The point is, there are a multitude of ways of making art, and all are significant in their own way.
The art world has truly become so mammoth that it nears incomprehension. On top of which, many artists are making even crazier and wackier things than their progenitors. Yet this is exactly what I love about art today: the possibilities for creation and discussion are endless.