Paper I, Semester I

Re-evaluating Skill Through a Postmodern Lens
Cameron Bennett
Written July 2009

In evaluating my own art in relation to the art discussed in the readings and lectures of the
Group I Critical Theory course, that is, avant-garde art largely made since 1900, I will focus on
particular aspects which relate or resonate especially with me. I will strive to do this by articulating my
interpretation of the events in art history which have shaped current notions of art practice, as well as
offer a possible outcome of current trends in avant-garde art. In doing this, I plan to view my own
beliefs through a contemporary lens, and ultimately address the issue of my own relevance in the field
of art.
Clearly, to understand one's place in the realm of art, one ought to have an understanding of
what the word “art”means..For better or for worse, the words “art” and “artist” seem to mean different
things to different people. In Mary Anne Staniszewski's book Believing Is Seeing, she attempts to
clarify the meaning of the word “Art.” How Art has come to be understood and defined, she explains,
is in this way: Art is an autonomous creation by an individual touched with genius (pg. 111).
Ultimately, this is the opinion of some, perhaps of many, but it remains opinion.
What is my personal response to Staniszewski's definition of Art? Let me begin with my own
opinions about the concept of “autonomy” and how it relates to the concept of originality.
Staniszewski rules out almost all work created before the Romantic era, arguing that truly autonomous
“art for art's sake” art was not born until the early 19th century, or thereabouts. My own conception of
art is broader; there are definitely works created for patrons or works commissioned by the state which
I would consider art. According to many, if a work is commissioned it is automatically an invalid
artwork, something not having sprung from the artist's creative font, something lacking autonomy. I
reject this notion for at least two reasons.
The first reason is that we, the culture, impose our own ideas of worth on objects; we decide
what is art and what it isn't. The honor of recognizing the “Art-ness” of a thing could very well come
long after the creation of the thing, regardless of the conditions under which is was created or its
reasons for being created. Isn't this what Staniszewski points out in Believing is Seeing? The
“artification” of the products of non-Western cultures, such as the Venus of Willendorf, is a prime
example of an imposition of “Art” on a thing. I believe that much of my better artwork, plenty of
which is portraiture and illustration commissioned by others, is perfectly valid as art in spite of its lack
of autonomy, because I and others appreciate it as such.
Secondly, I feel that the technical aspects of a work do much for its ability to resonate with a
wide audience. There is something about a high level of skill which demands a kind of reverence.
This level of craftsmanship is to be found in abundance in the realm of art, art not meeting the criteria
of art as posited by those like Staniszewski. I would argue that if one were to give a look into the
ouvres of portrait painting and illustration that one will find what I believe to be positively triumphant
demonstrations of skillful artistry, which qualify the work as “Art.”As a painter who does portraiture
and illustration, I strive to imbue my work with the technical attributes which help make it art,
regardless of its lack of total autonomous conception on my part..
Interestingly, this idea of autonomy seems to have become irrelevant among postmodernist
thinkers anyway. To question the autonomy of a thing, one must question its creation, its origins, its
originality. Autonomy implies ownership, authorship of the origins of something. As we learn in the
readings and Critical Theory course, the idea of the existence of originality is being called into question
by many artists. An attempt at making an original work is an impossibility, as artist Hans Haacke
argued, because artists working within a certain culture are programmed by that culture and its
inescapable ideology. “There is no non-ideological position!”he says in his 1979 interview with Robert
Morgan. (Artists, Critics, Context, pg.309) So, if there is no getting away from the programming and
indoctrination of one's culture, then there is no originality, no autonomy. If there is no autonomy, then
all creations of art are brought to the same level, in a sense, as being authored by something other than
the artist. This would appear to legitimize to a great extent works of art commissioned by someone
other than the artist, as in the case of portrait painters and illustrators
A by-product of the loss of the possibility of originality has been the legitimizing of
“appropriating” other aritsts' works. Marcel Duchamp, Pablo Picasso, Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein,
and Jeff Koons are well known for their appropriation. Other artists have unabashedly reproduced
other artists works in their own with virtually no alterations, as in Sherri Levine's rephotographing the
work of Edward Weston. My personal reaction to appropriation is negative, and when my artwork was
stolen from the internet and used by tatoo artists on at least two occasions, I was left feeling violated.
As far as originality goes in my own work, I have always felt liberated from the very notion of
trying to be original. My real passion in art focusses on the human condition, which for me and many
artists, is an unending source of material and inspiration. Pictures of people involved in the various
aspects of their lives have been the subject of art since the dawn of art itself? Has this stopped artists
from depicting people as such and has the audience for this kind of art disappeared? Of course not.
Some things in existence never change; we do not avoid these things in life, and I see no reason why
we ought to avoid them in Art. There is a peace which comes from not worrying about grasping for
originality. I can not recall if the idea of producing something new or original was really ever a
concern of mine, at least until beginning graduate school. What matters to me, and still does, is that the
artwork be done well, with craft, but more so with skill.
Few people, even postmodernists, would deny that skill is important. What, after all, is the
“genius” that Staniszewski necessarily includes in her definition of Art if not the quality of doing a
thing very, very well, or skillfully? A re-evaluation of the meaning of “skill” and a re-investigation of
specifically which skills are important in the arts of today is underway, however, and has been at least
since the 1960's, especially with the advent of “performance art”.
And what are the new skills expected of the artist of today? Some might say that the most
celebrated or hotly contested artists are those who are able to attract attention to their work and also, on
occasion, engender controversy. Many critics look at this in a positive light, giving the artist the credit
of being able to generate important “dialogue.” I am personally skeptical of this at this point as being a
worthwhile skill because it appears to me to be too easy to do. There can be a vagueness to the art of
today which is also cast in a positive light as inviting the interpretation of the viewer. At present, I feel
that attempts at clarity require more skill than vagueness and merely stimulating dialogue.
How, then, as an artist for whom traditional skills in painting and drawing are of paramount
importance, am I expected to feel when I am confronted with the newer ideas of “de-skilling”and “reskilling”
in art? Ultimately, I feel that too many people are working in the mediums best reserved for
visual artists. In my opinion, their attempts as mediators in this field may be misplaced. In Toward a
New Laocoon, critic Clement Greenburg touches on this idea of the misplaced mediator, using the
different mediums of the arts as his example, explaining that certain art forms, due to their intrinsic
limitations, are plainly unable to emulate the qualities of other art forms. Is it so different when
individuals with no training or little to no ability in the medium of the visual arts attempt to use it as
their medium, as their means for communicating an idea? How many people will understand the
messages behind the intentionally child-like marks of painters like Cy Twombly, or the baffling
performance art of Chris Burd who has himself shot in the arm?
What is it about the word “skill” that would appear to offend so many contemporary artists?
What is it about traditional art-skills which have become so distasteful that whole factions of artists
have virtually made them anathema? One might note that in Staniszewski's definition of Art, the word
“skillful” does not appear. Perhaps this is because “skill” for many represents the old, oppressive
ideologies of the dominant European male. This ideology is distasteful for some because it reserved
roles of power solely for the upper classes and restricted access to culture to men, especially in the art
academies, as Linda Nochlin points out in her article Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?
And, if one understands the history of art of the last one hundred years or so, one will understand that
much of what has been created in the name of art has been a reaction against the the ideology which
controlled the arts for so long..
Even as late as the mid 20th Century, as Carol Duncan points out in her MOMA article, the
avant-garde artists trying to overthrow these conventions were still very much subject to their
mentality, especially in the sexualized depiction of women in their art. These artists, like their cultural
forefathers in thelate 19th century, subscribed to the myth that men are the creators of culture and
women the embodiment of nature. This fallacious myth, as explained in Carol Duncan's essay: “The
MOMA's Hot Mamas,” manifested itself in the artistic idea that representational, naturalistic art, since it
depicts nature as it appears, is ultimately a celebration of the feminine. This idea was completely new
to me and at first I was excited by it. One moment later, however, I came to my senses and saw the
fallacy of it. What could be seen as being more masculine, if we view the term through a 19th Century
lens, than manipulating raw materials in a way which makes them appear to be something other than
what they are? Has this not always been the old idea of masculinity, that it beats nature into
submission, makes the female submissive to the will of the male? If so, then one could not hope for a
better example of a product of masculine culture than realist, illustionistic painting!
Ultimately, however, from a 21st Century perspective, these extreme assignations seem
outdated. Clearly, in our day, we do see women evident in culture-defining roles, especially in the arts,
just as we see men with greater roles in the home, as in my own instance as a stay-at-home father.
Further, looking back half a century, was it not Jackson Pollock himself who said that he IS nature?
We all shape our culture and we are all products of nature. The “Post-Academic” artist, that is, the
artist who believes in skill but does not equate it with oppression, also understands and rejects the
myths of that old ideology.
The cultural confinement imposed on the visual artist by the established institutions of Art
(galleries, museums, and academies) began to be challenged throughout the 19th and twentieth centuries
when artists began to create alternative spaces for the appreciation of their works, challenging the
notion of the accessibility of Art and its control by the establishment. In the 19th century Gustave
Courbet, frustrated by the limits of the official salon, constructed his own pavilion for the viewing of
his paintings, and in the 20th century artists like Robert Smithson literally and figuratively brought their
Art into the world by using the landscape itself as the Artwork. The artist Claes Oldenburg stated: “I'm
for an art which...that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum,” (Artists, Critics, Context,
pg.56) and he and artists like him attempted to raise the ordinary, unglamorous elements of everyday
life to the once restricted level of high art, as in his own monumental clothing pin public sculpture.
Unlike these artists, who see traditional forums for the display of art as prisons, as cultural
confinement, I see galleries, but more so museums, in a very positive light. For me, they act as places
which are important exactly because they are removed from daily life. Entering a museum is like
making a retreat to a sacred, spiritual place. Art, in my opinion, works very well in the role of offering
the opportunity for reflection and contemplation. What better place for it then, than the Museums
which house artwork, like churches; making it clear that once inside them, one is in a unique space.
Further, I feel, bringing art into the so called “real world”, as the mass media does when it ruins the
impact of original artwork with photo-reproduction, deadens the need for art.
With “happenings” and “performance art,” the lines between the idea of art as an object and art
as performance, activity, or process began to blur. Often this activity or process has taken the form of
political or social activism. Hans Haacke is known for just this kind of art-as-activism, and in his work
he has exposed a slumlord trustee of the Guggenheim museum, a German museum's censorship of
artists, and the questionable involvement of the Mobil Corporation in South African politics. Along
these lines, Staniszewski points out, organizations like Group Material, Act-Up, WHAM! and WAC
have all used art exhibits as a means for social activism, addressing issues such as gay rights, women's
rights, and the United States' involvement abroad. The question remains for me, however: are artists as
activists misplaced mediators working in the mediums best reserved for visual artists?
Now, if we carry this idea of art as activism to an extreme, we might have a sense of where
trends might lead us in the future. Imagine a science fiction-like scenario in which bombs shatter daily
events such as social gatherings and survivors crawl from the wreckage muttering these words: “Damn
artists!”
This film-like scenario is a science-fiction-style near-future I once imagined while an
undergraduate student surrounded by other young art students for whom the role of artist very much
meant “activism.” Confronted with this mentality on a daily basis, it was easy to envision the futuristic
scene described above, one in which a paradigm and linguistic shift had occurred. The concepts and
words for “activist”, “revolutionary”, and “rebel” had vanished from western language to be replaced
by one word only: ARTIST.
With the visible breakdown of traditional concepts of art and their replacement with a
broadening context and redefining of art as a tool for changing culture and the world around us, how
large is the leap to a future in which art becomes merely changing culture, regardless of the means?
The question seems less absurd when one considers the popular notion that great art challenges social
institutions and conventional thinking, and that popular culture, which is considered by many to be the
new “high art,” is rife with calls for “revolution.” Claes Oldenburg called for an art which is “violent”
in his 1961 manifesto “I am For an Art...” Even artist groups like Guerrilla Girls sport war-themed selfappellations.
So, in my future, the avant-garde artists have abandoned traditional mediums of selfexpression
and cut to the chase. Their medium of choice for changing the culture becomes direct
physical activity, often manifesting itself as mere terrorism.
Now, in such a future, what would my role as a traditional artist be? Still present in my
futuristic scenario, what words or concepts would remain to describe such artists like me who painted,
drew, and made pictures, after clearly no longer fitting the new definition of the word “artist”?
Monikers probably something like: “picture painter”, “image maker”, “illustrator,” or even “easel
painter.”Some of these titles are already very much applied to my kind of artist, often in a disparaging
way, illustrating the notion that even today we are seen by some as backward looking, non-progressive,
and irrelevant. So, in my imaginary future, it becomes simple to see how very different I am from the
“real” artists who have been “re-skilled” to change culture with a different tool-kit. It is interesting to
observe this phenomenon, already at work in the art realm of today.
In the last paragraph of BELIEVING IS SEEING, Staniszewski writes:
If we accept the fact that everything is shaped by culture, we then acknowledge
that we create our reality. We therefore contribute to it and can change it. This is an
empowering way of living and of seeing ourselves and the world. (pg. 298)
The conviction among many that “painting is dead” is not at all new. However much some may
wish that painting were dead, it is clear that painters still paint for an appreciative audience. Whether
the appreciation is what sustains traditional artists or the artists sustain the appreciation is unimportant.
The importance lies in the relevance of the obvious survival of both artists like me and our audience.
True to Staniszewski's own language: we have been shaped by culture and we continue to shape
culture. As a traditional artist, I am creating my reality and changing my reality, and I empowered by
this. I am, therefore, relevant.
Reference and Readings:
Believing is Seeing, Mary Anne Staniszewski,(Penguin) 1995
Artists, Critics, Context, Readings in and Around American Art Since 1945, Paul Fabozzi, (Prentice
Hall)2002
Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists? Linda Nochlin, from the book Art and Sexual
Politics, 1971
The MOMA's Hot Mamas, Carol Duncan, from Art Journal 48, 1989