Finishing my previous
article, n. II, of the series “The era of mediocrity”, I classified Pablo
Picasso as more a sophisticated psychologist and expert in marketing than
artist. I never considered him a great painter because – in my sinful ignorance
– I consider it the indispensable qualification of any painter to be able to
paint very well. I repeat: very well. A very uncommon talent, and perhaps
unreachable with dedication only. Such as “musical hearing”, a natural gift. It
is really not easy to reproduce with accuracy a face, a horse in motion, the
human body in less conventional positions, the movement of ocean waves, a
waterfall, etc.
Of all items of generic
“era of mediocrity” – chronologically short or enduring – the one that demanded
the greatest effort from me to read and pin down was the question of what is
art: How to analyse the reaction of the public in front of a painting or
sculpture, the unexplainable outburst of feelings of beauty or the vast
nomenclature that appeared after Classicism? Anyone who wants to understand the
meaning of Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, Fauvism, Cubism, Expressionism,
Futurism, Dadaism, Surrealism, Concreteness, Abstraction, Primitivism,
"Pop Art", "Minimal Art", etc., will face enormous difficulties
to establish frontiers between various 'schools'. Additionally, to further
complicate a slippery topic, one will have to take into account the “post” this
and that, because the artistic species are always restless.
However, there is a
common trait of all these movements: the more modern the work, the less the
“effort” for the artist. In other words: the more modern the painting, the
higher the degree of (effortless) abstraction, subjectivism, appreciation of
quantity over quality, and the need of marketing. If by mere joke, or to prove
an artist’s prestige, one person who never painted anything before could get a
canvas and quickly paint some lines and request Picasso to sign the work. This
painting, in less than a minute, would value millions of dollars, and prove that
it is not the painting that matters, but the “brand”. The most “knowledgeable”
of famous painters, perceiving the above painting, after confirming Picasso’s
signature, would perhaps say that the painting once again proved the
versatility of Picasso’s talent.
Vincent Van Gogh sold
only one painting while alive. The few people that bought his paintings, for a
cheap price soon after his death, had the greatest financial interest in
proclaiming the geniality of the artist. There is no doubt that Van Gogh was an
extraordinary human figure, but it is bewildering that his work only became so
valuable after his death. A proof that “financial psychology”, if we want to
name it, has an enormous impact in the value of artwork. One can ask how the
genius of the Dutch artists, while still alive, could be so well-hidden from
all the experts at the time, that it was necessary for the work to change hands
to become valuable? The art traders, who know the art of trade, have better
“art eyes” than the art scholars?
I would feel more comfortable if I
knew that the geniality of Van Gogh was discovered while he was still alive. He
was a man of suffering, tragedy, who only inspires sympathy. One detail: he
could paint. His good character, sensibility and personality deserve the
highest respect, but his example is a proof that money contaminated and
dominated the world of art. Paintings and sculptures became much more a
financial subject – similar to the actions of corporations – than a subject of art
in the real sense. The explanation of why I have included art in my series of
articles about mediocrity is because money made the arts mediocre.
Leonardo Da Vinci took
five years to paint the “Mona Lisa”. He would paint some few hours a day, and
many days devoted to perfection of details. In any way, a considerable time to
paint one work. By contrast, Picasso said, as quoted online, “Give me a museum
and I'll fill it”. As a museum is often very big, only a very fast and
tremendously “abstract” painter would fill it alone. With some twenty or thirty
paintings a day, he would be able to achieve that in a few months. This proves
that what mattered to him was pure quantity, and a declaration by the artist
that there was, in those few strokes, some deeply emotional “meaning”. So deep
that only he could feel it. Believe it if you can.
One modern art observer,
Tom Stoppard, said that the only criteria to distinguish a painting from a
modern sculpture were the following: if the work is hanging on the wall it is a
painting, if you can walk around it, it is one sculpture.
Richard Schmid, probably
knowledgeable on the topic — as he figures in art webpages — said “I honestly
believe that art students from the next century will laugh at the movement of
abstract art. They will be amazed about such a step back in the world of art”.
Al Capp, another
commentator, with a stronger style, would say “The abstract art is the product
of the ones without talent, sold by the ones without principles for those
immensely stupid”.
Another commentator of
modern art went as far as saying that “Trying to understand modern art is like trying to follow the plot in a
bowl of alphabet soup”.
And, finally, what says
the prince of painters, Leonardo da Vinci? He said “Where the spirit does not
work with the hand, there isn’t art”. Elitism? No, simply respect to the “other
side” of art, its receiver: who sees it or hears it. The spontaneous reaction
of the public cannot be denied.
In other words: without
the “hand” of the real artist, the subjectivism of the painter is not enough,
even if he truly feels the emotion — the great excuse for the modern painter,
who relies only on what he feels, not what the public perceives.
As a rough comparison, a
poet who stutters terribly can not complain about not having won a contest of
poetry declamation, even if he is the most intelligent, inspired and motivated,
which could even make his stuttering worse. He may well use his inspiration,
which could be immense, to write verses. He is not less of a poet for his
speaking problem. He will be a great poet, not a great speaker. I make this
comparison, perhaps ruthless, to demonstrate that what matters more in the
artwork is the impact that it creates in those who see it and listen to it. In
a classic piano concerto, a technical and emotionless pianist might sweep away
the audience and may be considered a greater pianist than the one that's
terribly emotional, sweating and moaning, who plays it all wrong and almost
beating the piano.
If what matters is the
emotion of the artist – and not the product of his hands – lets imagine that
science had invented a machine capable of capturing the degree of emotion and
inspiration when a musical piece is performed. A new type of machine with
attested efficacy, similar to lying detectors nowadays. The difference is that
the latter detects the presence of a lie, and the former would prove the
sensitivity of the artist. Lets explore this possibility.
Announced, not modestly,
is the arrival of a new musical genius in the country, a foreign pianist — so
brilliant that few listeners would have the capacity to understand the
profoundness of his art. His representative would declare that the inspiration
of the artist could not be artificial, because in his arm, there would be that
machine which proves the maximum degree of feeling a person can endure. In the
advertisement that would precede his inaugural concert, there was a warning
that people without an exceptional degree of sensibility and musical knowledge
should not even buy the tickets because they probably would not be able to
“capture” the profoundness of an art hidden under such simple appearance. The
secret of that great artist would be in exerting an aesthetic and philosophical
wealth that no Brazilians would have noticed before in Brazilian folk music.
The refusal of the artist’s representative to sell tickets to everyone would
even increase the demand for tickets.
On the expected day,
with the Municipal Theatre packed, attached to the artist’s arm in a video
recorded ceremony, the “detector of honest emotionality”. After impressive
silence the artist starts playing, with one finger only: “Jingle bells, jingle
bells
Jingle all the way. Oh, what fun it
is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh. Jingle
bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way.
Oh, what fun it is to ride
in a one horse open sleigh…”.
The audience, shocked,
holding their laughter but afraid to be taken as ignorant, remains with serious
faces and observes the enormous screen, connecting the “detector of honest
emotionality”, hoping for a bad “emotional result” that would allow the hoot
awaiting in the throat. The machine, however, confirmed the highest artistic
emotion that a human being could feel. The extraordinary inspiration of the
artist would be proven. With that, the public would only disclaim their own
opinions: — “I am really tremendously ignorant!” and if the artist would suffer
a stroke and would fall dead soon after finishing his concert, there would be a
long theoretical discussion about the genius of the pianist and the reasons
that made him chose such melody and not another one. — “What is the meaning of
the bells and the horse in the song?” and so on.
Exaggeration, surely, in
such an example, but in substance it is what happens with the excuse that the
artist has to express only what he feels to externalise his art.
In painting, everything
was fine until Classicism, when a technical innovation outside the artistic
world changed the peaceful atmosphere that valued the art to paint the things
as they would be presented to the eyes of people: photography. With a simple
“click” it was possible “to copy” anything, with the precision of lines and
balance of proportions that not even Leonardo Da Vinci would reach. The spread
and improvement of photography was the salvation of various artists who,
notwithstanding its potential sensitivity, had no natural ability — nor the
patience — to reproduce on a canvas what met the eyes.
The path was then open —
and paved —, for people that admired the arts, who would emotionally identify
themselves with art and would like to be part in this mysterious world, full of
seductions. Including females. The women of that time – the late 19th and early 20th century – would feel a special
attraction towards the “artists”, impetuous and barely constrained by
conventions. Nowadays, probably, they prefer the “artists of finance” and from
mass sports, a lot more profitable, I mean, attractive for them. The painters
were, by then, almost always men.
The world of art — when
sincere and authentic — has a really interesting face. Its intuitions are often
accurate. The canny politician from Bahia, the late Antônio Carlos Magalhães,
used to say that it is insanity for a politician to attack the artistic class.
One should never do that. Freud confessed that he rarely reached any discovery
before a poet. The true art has this advantage: it reaches, “not
intentionally”, but by intuition, areas not yet reached by science. It flies,
while the scientist walks.
With the advent of
photography, there were the ones who were only “clever”, looking for an easy
and quick way to success and fame, and its by-product: money. An artistic
“democracy”, allowing every dare-devil without enough talent to paint, “to show
off”, call attention. Besides, the more shocking the work, disharmonious to the
real appearance of objects, the greater the “scandal” and capacity to grab
attention, with commercial input. For the more sceptical observers, who would
say that there was only audacity in there, and not art, two replies would
emerge: 1) who wants the exact reproduction of a landscape or object shall take
a picture; 2) in art, what matter is the artist’s feeling, not the material
product of that feeling.
Pablo Picasso was the
one to advance most openly the argument that what matters in painting and
sculpture is the artist's emotion, not what we know as “mere reality” For him,
the painter can even paint with his eyes closed, as long as he is “inspired”.
The public should not be concerned with appearance. They need to “feel the same
way the artist felt”. And he would say with great conviction — extraordinary
psychologist that he was — that some millionaire had begun to buy his paintings,
hence causing enormous value of any work signed by Picasso. He would go as far
as saying that he was not sufficiently rich to have a “Picasso” in his own
house.
Lets have a look at some
quotations by him obtained online:
“I paint objects as I
think them, not as I see them”.
“Painting is a blind
man's profession. He paints not what he sees, but what he feels, what he tells himself about
what he has seen".
“The people who
make art their business are mostly imposters”.
“The world today doesn't
make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?”
“To draw you must close
your eyes and sing”.
“Who sees the human face
correctly: the photographer, the mirror, or the painter?”
Considering all this,
what explains the endurance of modern art, its great economic value, even when
it is shocking and conflicts with the visible reality?"
To me, the explanation
is at the artist’s personality. In its audacity, its strength, “charisma”,
“strong personality”, as found in Picasso, the great psychologist. Or in
integrity and compassion, as in the cases of Vincent Van Gogh and his friend
Paul Gauguin. It is impossible to read the biography of those two without being
move by such sensitive souls. Did they know how to draw? They knew enough,
without pressing themselves too hard about copying real objects.
The character of an
artist “contaminates” his work, both positively or negatively. It strongly
impacts the acceptance by the public. Even the political orientation matters.
Picasso himself benefited from that. In general, he was likeable. Had generous
ideas and was outspoken in his opinions, as one can see in the quotations
above. If he had been right-winged, or fascist, he would have never been
considered a famous artist. “Guernica” pushed him. The same happens in other
arts: the personality of the artist “contaminates” his work, up or down.
Abstraction is the most
fertile ground for philosophy. I think that, for at least a long time, the
human being will still demand a degree of virtue, difficulty and work in every
art. In sport competitions, in the circus, in cinema, writing short stories, novels
and poetics, it is expected that the artist expresses himself with ability
surpassing the average. It is not acceptable that the artist only “feels”
beautiful in his own mysterious “box”, writing only non-sense, or texts
incomprehensible even to the author himself. Hence the deeply-rooted general
prejudice against modern art that does not even please the eye and,
intellectually, may mean anything: — “It is too easy. Even I can do that...”
Now, a short note about
music. Of all types of art, I think it is the one that is the least susceptible
to deception. The musical mediocrity cannot stay afloat for too long, because
it can be evaluated within minutes. It sinks, because there is no financial
advantage to keep it up if it does not please anyone. You only need one minute
of listening to a new song, to know if it is worth it or not. The abundance of
compositions and the size of the public are such that it is not worth spending
time with the marketing of music that no one wants to listen to or purchase. However,
with modern art, there is a restricted market of rich buyers, turning paintings
into a reserve of value, in case the name of the painter is well known. The
painting is material, touchable, concrete, it is there, as if it was a debt
claim. As for music that no one wants to listen to, it is mere noise, it does
not capture anyone's interest, it is impossible to transform it into a gem.
Only regarding jazz I
have some doubts. The majority of the people do not like it, because it does
not have an identifiable melody. In my view (perhaps I’m ignorant on that),
jazz should be used only as a technique of composition. The musicians could be
improvising endlessly but when, by chance, the wandering performers "would
come across" a new melody, they should develop it, composing a “normal”
song. What makes me reluctant to be negative about jazz is to know that the
writer José Verissimo - which I consider very intelligent - enjoys this music
style. If he is a fan of this style, maybe it must have some beauty that eludes
us.
In the next article, we
will talk about literature, and in the following about politics, especially
international politics, whose mediocrity towers over any other kind of
mediocrity.
(2-4-2012)
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