A father and child stand in front of a pile of candy at some famous art museum. The child snatches a piece before immediately running off to the next room, dragging her bewildered father along as he shakes his head, muttering about the pitiful loss of “true art” these days. Behind them, a young man approaches the corner. He stares at the mountain of candy a moment, seemingly trying to figure out its meaning. After a few moments, he begins to quietly weep.
Contemporary art is probably the most divisive art of our time: those who hate it truly despise it while those who love it won’t hesitate to mansplain it. Art purposefully evokes paradoxical feelings – disturbing yet arousing, awe-inspiring yet terrifying, beautiful yet tragic. No piece will ever satisfy every person who comes across it. But why is there such a vehement dislike for contemporary art? Is It really as simple as not understanding it, or are there deeper reasons behind these feelings?
There are certainly psychological and sociological explanations for this phenomenon, however, I choose to take a philosophical approach by examining the philosophy of several negative emotions elicited by contemporary art. How are emotions impacting our perceptions of contemporary art, and why are they so often negative? I will argue the importance of two key emotions and why they are unwarranted: (1) anger and (2) envy.
ANGER
Anger is often the first emotion contemporary art naysayers articulate. “I can’t believe this is up here”, “This looks like something I could do, this is stupid”. There’s a sense of frustration because the art doesn’t seem to deserve to be on display and this particular sort of art is judged inferior to other, more “worthy” pieces, whatever those may subjectively be. Naysayers commonly argue that contemporary art is objectively either not art or not good enough to be in a museum. How, after all, could a giant orange canvas rationally be hung next to Starry Night? The comparison is almost laughable. But I won’t dive into the nuances of the subjectivity of art. Rather, I argue that even making a judgment that one form of art is “better” or “worse” than another stems from anger, and anger in this context is not right.
Solomon, in his book True to our Feelings, describes anger as an engagement with the world that “is a literally judgemental or magisterial emotion. The offended subject turns the tables on the offender [casting] him- or herself in the superior role of judge and jury […] in anger, the other is put on trial.” (Solomon, 24) The beholder sees a piece of art and, believing it inferior to their personal standard of “good”, immediately places themself above the piece, the artist, and sometimes even the museum. In this subconscious courtroom, they rule against the art and this judgment manifests as anger at its place in the public eye.
However, anger can also be warranted. It is even an Aristotelian virtue, a disposition that can be had in the right amount, at the right time, under the right circumstances, and for the right reasons. It is difficult (but not impossible) to argue that anger at contemporary art is wrong because unless it is some malicious, enduring sort of anger that causes the naysayer to lash out against the artist, it effects little real-life harm. The anger facing contemporary art is almost always just simple naysaying. But that doesn’t mean it’s right.
Angry naysayers are often extremely vocal. They make audible noises of disgust and turn up their noses as they walk past offending canvases and write blog posts about the modern downfall of art simply because they, personally, dislike it. This anger cannot possibly be the right reasons nor the right amount, and if it isn’t right in every way it isn’t virtuous. So not only is the negative attitude towards contemporary art borne out of anger, it is unwarranted anger.
ENVY
However, some psychologists argue that anger is a secondary emotion, one that is always backed by some primary emotion that causes it. Assuming that this is true, I argue that envy is the primary cause of this anger. Envy, as Solomon puts it, involves a “radical diminution of self-esteem”, the key being that “[one does] not have anything like a right or a claim to the possession or talent or honor [being envied]”. (Solomon 102) In other words, envy entails low self-esteem that drives a person to desire something that they not only cannot have but don’t deserve. It is often (but not always) malicious due to a “malevolent attitude toward the envied person.” (Solomon 103) Let us revisit the naysayer statements from earlier. There exists the common belief that (1) the contemporary art does not deserve to be hung because it isn’t “good” enough and (2) given that it is hung, the viewer deserves it just as much as the artist because they could also do it. This runs into “jealousy” territory at first glance, but the key here is that most viewers could not really create contemporary art and enter it into a famous museum – they lack the skill, connections, and money to do so. But they desire it nonetheless because, now that this artist has it so seemingly easily, they want it too.
This envy is the primary emotion behind anger. Envy for the artist’s recognition and placement causes the need for a judgment on the validity of the art. But the greatest pitfall of envy lies in its effect on the envier. It is a helpless and fruitless pursuit that causes one to “ignore or discount what one already has [and] lead bitter lives because of what they do not have.” (Solomon 103) This creates no progress in anything and only ends up damaging the self.
CONCLUSION
Anger, arising out of envy, is the cause behind an acute hatred of contemporary art. The issue is not within the art itself or the interpretations of it; rather, it is the people’s emotional reactions to it. However, is the purpose of art not to elicit these strong, divisive reactions? Is the nature of art not to create intense, contradicting emotions? Is the pile of candy not a childlike joy to some, but a tragic metaphor to others?
Shared by: Wendy Wei