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(Fine Arts Question 1)  The Invention of Art
Larry Shiner states that “a central belief of the modern system of art has always been that money and class are irrelevant to the creation and appreciation of art”(7). What do you think? Is this “ central belief” true given your experience with the arts?

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I think that money and class have always been relevant to to the modern system of art, despite the idealized notion that they are not. As Shiner notes, the shift in the classification of artists vs. artisans, and fine art vs. crafts, began in the 18th century, and was motivated in no small part by artists themselves, in an attempt to change their market for the better. The more wealthy and powerful in society, with more leisure time on their hands, (and more disposable income), were encouraged to embrace the idea that certain art forms had more aesthetic value than others. While prior to this "enlightenment", a painter was held in no more esteem than a blacksmith, for example-  afterward they were seen as being widely different in their creative worth.

Personally, I have always been a follower of art, particularly painting, and even more specifically the surrealist movement (Dali, Magritte), and I'm certainly not a man of wealth or high standing in society. So there's always the potential for certain individuals to appreciate art on a deep level, regardless of their circumstances. But I think they're the exception rather than the norm. The working class and the lesser educated often just are not exposed to such things, or lack the time to explore them. As to the creation of art, that too is going to be limited by by money and class even more so. Only the most fervent believers in their own creative abilities are going to take the risk of embarking on an artistic career, unless money isn't a concern.

I've been a professional musician for close to 40 years, but because I have mainly played covers of other people's compositions, do not consider myself an "artist". I'm more of a craftsman. It's the equivalent of doing a well-executed print of some famous painting, and selling it for a hundred dollars- compared to the original painting that would sell for millions. There's room for a lot of varying levels of interest and investment in "art", and the interpretation of what it is. Some people just want something to hang over a sofa, and will spend $50-100 or so, and that's all the thought necessary in the transaction. Some people like to go to a bar and hear live music, but only music within their comfort zone.

There's still an elitism in the upper echelons of the arts, but also a growing trend of artists that enter and leave that spotlight very quickly. With our now immediate access to millions of images, writings, and music via the internet, it's harder to keep people's attention. Maybe this will take the arts in a new, more accessible direction for the "99 percent".

 

(Fine Arts Question 2) Comparison of the Arts
How would Leonardo compare and rank the arts today, in the 21st century? Would he still regard painting as “peerless in its nobility”, or, is painting passé, having been eclipsed by more dynamic and relevant art forms and technologies? Would he even feel compelled to rank them?

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Da Vinci's assertion that painters ranked at the top of all artists was valid enough in his time. (It also didn't hurt his credibility that he was, coincidentally, one of the best painters ever). One could make the argument that music came very close to equaling the visual arts, but a painting still had a permanence and an immediacy that musicians couldn't rival.

But that was then. In Leonardo's time, there were no cameras, even for still photos, much less video. There were no methods to record audio. You heard a piece of music performed live, and then it was forever gone. If you wanted a likeness of someone, or some place, it had to be drawn at least, or preferably painted. From his perspective, only a visual work of art had any permanence. (Strange that he didn't consider sculpture however- a little puzzling).

Da Vinci, if he could be resurrected here in the 21st century, would first of all not even understand the new art forms he was seeing. Not only would photography be a surprise on its own, but we have moving pictures, (which also have music playing, and dialogue over the top of that). The three art forms he was comparing- painting, music, and poetry, can now coexist in one work of art! Software can generate images randomly, without any human creativity beyond those who design the programs. We even have CGI now (computer generated imagery) that rivals reality.

But Leonardo was a genius. Let's say we let him acclimate to the 21st century for a while, and get an understanding of all the new technologies that have arisen since his era (including a few, like the helicopter, that he foresaw)... I believe he would have to re-think his rankings. A visual image is still the most immediately effective medium there is; a message can be conveyed almost instantly. Painting is not yet passe, but it's in an exponentially wider field of competitors now. Music has been digitized and can be accessed almost whenever we want it, and as many times as desired. I think Da Vinci would perhaps be most impressed with our multi-media productions such as motion pictures. And if he got a chance to see how badly his Last Supper has deteriorated over the centuries, he might even re-think the "permanence" of painting.

(Fine Arts Question 3)  Can Music Save Your Life?
Mark Edmundson concludes his essay with the provocative observation that “most music listening is about letting other people feel your feelings for you.” What do you think? What role does music play in your life?
 

  I will not be able to give a very objective opinion in this discussion, but I guess that isn't the point... A quick account of music and the role it plays in my life: I got a guitar for Christmas when I was 12 years old- 42 years ago. I have never stopped playing one since. At 16, I started playing in professional bands, and although I've had many other jobs over the decades, I've always been in music projects, and it is now how I make my living at age 53. I've been married three times; I met all three of those women as a result of being a musician and their being in the audience. And my 24 year-old son is a musician, with whom I've even had the pleasure of being in a band with. Hearing my son laying down a great bass groove, and soloing on top of it- a wonderful moment for me.

Edmundsen makes some great observations about music, but I mostly disagree with the idea that it lets musicians be the surrogates for others' feelings or emotions. Music can enhance emotions to a great degree, but not, I think, dictate them in anyone but the most impressionable. Maybe he's confusing music with just the lyrics. Words have influence, and maybe when sung they have even more. But I feel like most people have their own emotions that are unique to themselves.

My favorite line from Edmundsen is "In fact, the best thing that hearing music can do for you is make you want to make your own". That's obviously what it did to me. I often hear people wish that they could play an instrument, such as here in this discussion. It's never too late. I was fortunate enough to have a fairly good ear (but most of us do, if we can sing in tune), and to have just been compelled to play. As a teenager I would spend 5-6 hours a day after school practicing guitar. But it doesn't have to be an all-consuming thing. Learning a few chords is enough for some people. I highly recommend it. But you don't need to be envious of musicians. If you have the ability to get "lost" in a song, you're getting almost the same experience that we do.

I will concede that there is one experience that is unique among accomplished musicians, and that I wish all of you could experience for yourself. Although it's almost a trite cliche, music really is a language. As long as I've been playing, I have become very "fluent" in it. I can "speak" in rock, blues, reggae, or jazz . Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, Carlos Santana and Stevie Ray Vaughan are some of the "accents" I can imitate well. I get the same thrill that anyone gets from hearing a great musician; but the added bonus of knowing how they do it. It's like knowing the magician's secret.

 

(to Angela)- Everyone's opinions of music are valid, even those who don't like music at all. You can't measure the arts scientifically or mathematically. One man's music is another man's noise. We've managed to agree on some obvious talents, in various genres, collectively. But as individuals, we're still on our own to decide what we like.

I don't really like "rap" music. But I blame myself, and not the music. It's simply a generation-gap and a cultural-gap. I work with a singer (25 years younger than me) who is an excellent rapper. And we include some of it in our shows . I've actually gained some respect for an art-form that I didn't understand.

It sounds like we hail from the same era, based on the bands you mention. There's a special attachment we put on the music we hear as we're coming of age.

I went through the same, sometimes tedious process of children's songs as my son grew up. (The "Power Rangers" theme song comes to mind, and makes me cringe to this day... and let's not even talk about "Barney and Friends"). But I made a point to expose him to the music that meant the most to me, too. It was awesome to hear a 3 year-old trying to sing "Roxanne" by The Police, there in his car-seat.

Music has been happening here on the planet for a very long time. I find it kind of strange. You can't really say it has any crucial role in our evolution, yet it has persisted. You could almost view it as a sort of compensation for all the language barriers that have developed. Even if you don't know the language a song is sung in, you can get a good impression of what it's about. It's sort of a global sensitivity we all share.

 

(to Leigh)- Not only do I agree with your statement: "Music...can be enjoyed by those who [don't] perform themselves", but I think you often enjoy it more than the performers. Because I'm a musician, I can sometimes over-analyze a song when I hear it. Rather than just experience the song for its own sake, I might be deciding if it's something I want to add to a band set list. If so, then I have to learn to play it, which means more repeated listenings (often just small sections over and over, if the song is complex). And then, once you start playing the song out live, and do so for months or even years, the song becomes one of your "jobs". Imagine Mick Jagger and how many times he's sang "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction". The title almost becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy- no way he's getting the same satisfaction from it as when he first wrote it.

Sometimes a performer is having a bad night, and the very last thing they want to do is be playing music. But they've been hired to play, and there's people there that want to listen. It's like any other occupation under those circumstances. Except that calling in sick is very problematic.

And lastly, I will add that I've noticed most serious musicians don't dance. Maybe onstage, as part of their show, but not likely when they go see another band. Other bands are "competition"; maybe friendly, but it still ends up more like a scouting mission- checking out what they do differently, maybe even trying to get a member to defect to you. I sometimes envy the abandon I witness in people when they dance.

(Fine Arts Question 4)  The Dynamic Image
What did you find most interesting in Langer’s essay “The Dynamic Image”? What did you learn?

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I found Langer's essay to be a little heavy on the philosophical side, in her attempts to answer what the arts as a group, and then dance specifically, really mean, and how we get there. But amidst all that, she does supply some definitions that are valuable. Her definition of art is astute: "what language does not readily do- present the nature and patterns of sensitive and emotional life- is done by works of art". Science can give us exact answers to certain questions, either through language (papers), visual charts, math formulas, etc. As Langer points out, we can wonder how far the sun is from earth, then find an answer we all agree upon. But if someone asks, why is a sunset beautiful?, then there's no clear response.That's where art steps in, to try and convey the subjective parts of our existence.

Another good definition from Langer: " A dance, like any other work of art, is a perceptible form that expresses the nature of human feeling". We see the words in a great novel, or the colors and textures of a painting or photograph. We hear the tones and rhythms of a musical work. So what do we get from dance? Langer's key word is gesture. That's the unique aspect of dance- we see a body or group of bodies in motion, and emotions are conveyed to us through this movement. There's a lot in body language that is universal; we all have seen people cower in fear, swagger with pride, shake with laughter, or jump for joy. To see a group of dancers express these and other emotions is why we're attracted to dance.

I don't think I can call myself a fan of dance, at least in the sense that someone like Langer is. I wouldn't go see a ballet or some other dance troupe. I wouldn't even watch it on PBS. But that's just me. Slightly ironic- people often dance to the music my various projects perform, and it's an indication that we're doing a good job. I appreciate it then, for sure. I guess I prefer the more common, maybe even banal types of dance than the more artsy versions.

I think dance can be a very sexy thing to watch, and that it may have originally been sexually motivated. From my male viewpoint- a pretty woman shaking her hips... enough said. I don't intend that as sexist (women appreciate male dancers the same way); nature is full of examples where the male or female animal "displays" during mating season- I'd recommend for everyone to watch the "Bird of Paradise mating dance"- early cultures probably witnessed such events and incorporated them into their own rituals. http://youtu.be/W7QZnwKqopo

Langer's essay does enrich my understanding. I especially appreciated her comparing dance to an apparition. That's a subtlety I hadn't considered- that there's an invisible energy being exchanged between the dancers themselves and also with the audience.

(Fine Arts Question 5)  For Viewers of Contemporary Art the Meanings are Multiple
How do you “make meaning” when you look at contemporary art? If you encounter art that appears puzzling and impenetrable are you likely to give it attention in the ways that Doll advocates, or, are you more likely to walk away?

 

I think there are parallels between this essay from Doll and the advice given by both Virginia Woolf on how to read a book and Gerald Graff's view that criticism is important. In other words, it's a delicate balance of viewing a visual work of art on your own terms (as Woolf would suggest) and also supplementing that with what art critics and historians have said (if anything) about the work or the artist, (as Graff found important).

When many years ago I first discovered Salvador Dali, the flamboyant surrealist painter, I was immediately impressed with his amazing craftsmanship and weird, dream-like subject matter. And that would have been enough- I loved his work, no matter what anyone else might have said or written about it. However, as my interest in him grew, I started not only viewing his art, but reading about him too. From that, I got a much deeper understanding of his work; learning about the surrealist movement and its other great artists, how cubism and dadaism were influences on it, how Sigmund Freud's theories about the unconscious mind we're a huge influence on Dali, and so on...

One very good point that Doll makes is that our interpretation of a painting, as well as other art forms (music, poetry) can change over time, with repeated exposure to them. I had appreciated Dali's The Last Supper for decades before I noticed one day (while reading an art historian's description) that the six apostles on either side of Christ were mirror-images of each other. That was something I'd somehow never caught before.

I try to give a work of art a chance if I don't understand it, rather than "walk away from it". As Doll suggests, I'll try to see if there's any symbolism in the lines/colors, the type of media used... But beyond that, unless it's something I find visually appealing and want to understand better, I'm likely to move on to something else if I gave it a chance and it "failed".

(in response to Professor Hansen): "In your experience (i.e. Dali), is ambiguity a tool or posture or attitude visual artists intentionally cultivate and employ"?

Great question. My answer is yes- there are many examples of intentional ambiguity in the visual arts, in all three ways you mention. As a tool, some artists, and Dali has numerous examples, put double-image illusions in their work. Swans floating on water turn into elephants in their reflection; a room with a sofa and paintings and curtains becomes Mae West's face... Rene Magritte famously painted a realistic version of a tobacco pipe, then painted the words underneath: "This is not a pipe". And that is both correct and incorrect, simultaneously.

I feel like you intentionally added posture and attitude because I referenced Dali; he was of course notorious for his outlandish eccentric behavior and staged events. He and his wife Gala would wear lobsters or sea urchins as hats, walked pet ocelots around on leashes, and scores of other examples of being strange for its own sake.. He attempted to make his persona as surreal as his work, and it was basically a marketing ploy. A Dali quote: "The only difference between me and a mad man is that I am not mad". Even some of the names of his paintings were ambiguous, such as Eggs on a Plate Without the Plate.

The eccentric artist has become a stereotype. Some famous artists in history helped that to come about. We would all think of Van Gogh if someone said "name a crazy painter", for example. In a lot of cases, it's not their conscious decision to behave oddly; artists are sensitive and obsessive by nature, and will often be socially awkward due to the focus they put on that one aspect of their lives. But artists buy into the stereotype, too. I'm sure some adopt postures because they think it's expected of them.

 

 

 
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