Back
to 10 Rooms and a Sculpture Garden
Catalogue Essay - 10 Rooms and
a Scupture Garden
Foreword
There is a tendency in art related debates to focus attention on very specific
questions or areas of concern, questions which are no doubt important but which
never seem satisfactorily answered. We ask what it is to be a work of art and,
separately, what it is for a property or experience to be aesthetic. We try
to explain how artworks have meanings and how we are to locate those meanings.
We not only debate the merits of different artworks but also question how such
values can be attached to them at all.
These are not artificial questions; they are not the product of purely academic
curiosity. Furthermore, they are not unhelpful questions. However, there is
a sense in which an attempt to answer one question inevitably points us in the
direction of another.
In his essay The New Institutional Theory of Art George Dickie examined the
problem of distinguishing artworks from other objects. He concludes with a convincing
attempt at a definition of what an artwork is but admits that definition is
circular in that the terms he uses (“artist”, “public”,
“artworld”, “artworld system” and “work of art”)
create a logically circular set. As a result the definition fails to reduce
the term “work of art” to more basic terms, and so doesn’t
achieve what is the typical aim of a definition.
Dickie defends his definition by arguing that the circularity is non-vicious
and therefore ultimately doesn’t undermine his argument, and his defence
is a persuasive one. However, it is what emerges from this defence that is of
particular interest. What originates as a focused argument concerning the very
specific matter of identifying artworks from other objects leads to an illustrative
account of how we come to be part of the artistic system, a system which incorporates
artists and their intentions, artworks and the public.
It is telling then that in attempting to subject art to formal debate, to pin
down the key notions tied into it, we end up taking a step back and looking
at it in broader terms. Perhaps then, while focused and detailed investigation
is nonetheless important, we should appreciate that if we are to understand
art and artworks better it is necessary for us simply to become involved in
this vast, social activity. That is to say, that at the heart of the matter
lies the peculiar interaction between the artist, his work and his audience
and that can only be appreciated if we make ourselves part of that.
It would be incorrect to say that this interaction, this involvement in artistic
activity, has to be uncritical. Our understanding of artworks is frequently
aided by placing them within some sort of intellectual context. However, a lot
of what gives art its immediate significance seems to take place on a more basic
level.
As an audience we might start by considering the works themselves, as distinct
objects and try to ascribe some significance to them. However, what soon becomes
apparent is that our attention is not simply directed at these objects in themselves.
Instead we assess our own reactions to them and on top of that try to develop
an understanding of the artist and the artistic process.
It is too easy to look at works of art as a particular class of thing and to
try to consider this class in isolation. However, to do so can often be to ignore
the fact that they form only part of a wider activity. Whatever the end result,
the making of a work of art, that combination of the artist and his intentions
with the resultant declamatory act is of equal significance. Similarly, the
perception of a work of art by an audience, the way that audience interacts
with it and the way it impacts on them is important.
If arguments concerning specific aspects of art lead inevitably towards circularity,
because of the inflected nature of art and the terminology we apply to it, chiselling
away at isolated aspects of it will sometimes be misguided. Circularity in arguments
bothers us because it suggests that there is no route in from the outside. However
if, as an audience, we simply become part of this wide social activity and become
able to participate in it, then that analytical circularity need not necessarily
worry us.
Will Seymour
Endnote
Whenever we use a word or a phrase, it is deployed within the context of a specific
set of norms and its meaning is derived from its position in relation to these
rules. As several philosophers and social scientists have since pointed out,
these norms should be understood in relation to social conventions, and the
usage of words viewed as an inferentially social action. To grasp the meaning
of a word or a phrase, it is necessary to place it in the immediate context
of understood linguistic rules and the more distant context of its social function.
In terms of books, to recover the meaning of a particular work, it is vital
that we ‘close the context’ around it, placing the author’s
statements in the setting of contemporary linguistic conventions and locating
the work in relation to the condition of its intended audience.
This so-called “use” theory of language can be applied to works
of art and underpins the manner in which most people are accustomed to view
pieces at an exhibition. Having been selected for display in a gallery, a particular
work is seen as conforming to a particular set of norms that are conditioned
by its institutional and social context. Its import and meaning is gauged not
only against a preconceived conception of “art”, but also in relation
to the work’s environment and origins. At one level, its inclusion in
an exhibition suggest that it should be located within the broader schema of
artistic endeavour and frequently branded with a label referring a movement
or “project”. At another level, it is understood in relation to
the artist’s own background and his location within a social context which
includes both other artists and the viewer. The significance and meaning of
the work are, in other words, recovered from its apparently social usage.
It should be noted that in recent years, there has been something of a backlash
against an “institutional” view of art. Many are now unwilling to
approach or evaluate pieces from the perspective of the institution in which
they are displayed. This, however, has not necessarily made their method of
viewing any more coherent. The notion that the context of an institution can
provide meaning has to a large extent been abandoned, however the attempt to
view works of art with reference to a particular universal “language”
remains dominant. Without institutions to fall back on, debate has shifted to
the nature of art. ‘What is art?’ is nothing less than an attempt
to uncover a universal set of rules governing composition and reception. Yet,
the work of art exists as an abstract unconnected with definite signs, and such
an endeavour has not only proved fruitless but has also failed to provide a
workable intellectual framework for observation of it. “Art” as
a point of appeal remains elusive and evaluative statements inevitably disintegrate
into the facile and the specious.
If the absence of commonly accepted signs within the “artistic society”
inhibits the recovery of meaning through the application of rules, how should
works of art be viewed? Is it possible to look at works of art in any logically
satisfying manner at all?
A solution to this problem does exist and can, peculiarly enough, be derived
from the “use” theory of language. The absence of a common set of
signs does not mean that a work has no capacity to communicate with the viewer.
It remains a social object produced for the purpose of being viewed and hence
presupposes comprehension. The fact of the work’s production itself remains
a proof of its significance and import. The terms in which that communication
is mounted, however, and the rules – however informal or basic –
which govern their relationship, consist entirely in the work itself. Effectively,
the work is in and of itself a language, accessible to all, comprehensible to
all, but approachable only as a singular produced object.
This can be put in more practical terms. When an artist composes a work, he
does so with the purpose of it being seen. He wishes to state something or make
a declaration of sorts. In assembling the piece, he may make use of a particular
notion of artistic composition, but he does so willingly and selectively. As
such, his work cannot fully be understood in relation to others. He may absorb
or break with ambient ideas as he sees fit without compromising the communicative
capacity of his work. When he paints, or draws or sculpts or arranges, an artist
manipulates the components and the concepts/things to which they refer in his
own fashion, unique to that moment. When he creates a work, he in every respect
creates his own “language”, the elements of which obey their own
unique rules. These signs and rules – however simplistic or complex –
must, by virtue of their being elements of a communicative work, be comprehensible
to the viewer, but can only be understood fully in their own terms.
Alexander Lee