Linda Thern-Smith is a sculptor who has been writing art criticism for over 20 years. Her articles have been published in the New Art Examiner and the Washington Review, among others. For more information on Linda, and to view examples of her sculptural work, go to washingtonart.com/thern.html
As a group, what impresses most about these responses is a lively inventiveness that shows little repetition, especially in word choice. An example, and from the heartfelt variety, is Jim Spillane's assertion that, "... behind every work of art is a lovestory." Somewhat surprising, on first reading this may even seem too simplistic or sentimental when we know that "film noir" and beyond certainly exist, but if we consider that all love stories are not about traditional happy endings, or that it takes a lot of nurturing love to produce any work of art, whether it be an ephemeral performance or a two ton sculpture, his point can be appreciated. On the other end of the scale, Sheila Rotner's statement that "Art is Art no longer-art is delay," certainly qualifies in the cerebral category. Unless delay has been pirated into some impenetrable cyber-jargon, does the artist mean that--if everything is Art today, we have only to wait a short time (delay) for it to get the nod--or, what does she mean?
Moving on, to the main concern of this writing, which is to discover any similarities amongst all the individuality, a few patterns do become apparent. For example, most responses do hold that Art can be defined even in this day and age (38 yes to 2 no). One of the two vastly outnumbered is Alex Melamid, of the well-known duo, Melamid and Komar, (his quote was actually submitted by someone else.) Melamid insists that, "The thing is that no one knows what art is." Although not popular here, this view has become widely held in the art community especially due, perhaps, to work like Duchamp's Readymades (as this writer suggested above as one of the thirty-four respondents). It is a view easy to comprehend if the existence of earth art, designed to disintegrate, undocumented works of theatre as art, or any number of today's "Art-isms," are considered.
Most responses, declaring Art definable, go on to variously and implicitly support the premise that it does, can, or even should involve an actual something (26 out of 40) even if that something is only a loosely quantifiable concept either as inspiration or product. (Note that 25 hold this last opinion compared to 15 who hold that the something has to be concrete especially if it is the product or result.) A good example of this thought process can be seen when Ruth Stenstrom declares Art to be, "...what we think about keeping or looking at when we get rid of all the rest." Here, she begins with an actual something by using "what" but ends more ambiguously with an "all the rest." Richard Dana's definition, "A work of art is a compelling and inspiring gravity within whose field the creator and audience lose themselves to find that which lies between the Beauty and the Dread of life," begins even more actually in his specification of "a work of art" although he also then proceeds into arbitrary, difficult to quantify terminology.
Yet, perhaps arbitrary, highly personal and metaphoric descriptions do offer the best approach to defining Art especially in a democracy. A number of the respondents think so by seeing Art as means or way rather than as actual objects. Mansoora Hassan offers, "Art is the path to peace..." Here, in "path" she uses a probable actuality even possibly a concrete something, to begin her statement and ends with a similarly quantifiable actuality in "peace," rather than in vague or arbitrary terms. Therefore, although she is speaking metaphorically and personally, her definition is more quantifiable and less open to interpretation, though certainly only different, not better than, any above. Other respondents likewise believe that Art as a path should result in a quantifiable goal but Madolyn Marcus amends this to insist, "Art is a way of approaching the unknown," thus joining only Melamid to hold that Art cannot really be defined.
Of that majority who defined Art, even if only in vaguely quantifiable terms, most also believe that any potential product of the art process should be open- ended and non- evaluative--neither good nor bad. Along these lines, Critic F. Lennox Campello writes, "Art is anything that two people define as art: The being who creates it and the being who admires it as art." Compare this with Susan Burgess's belief that, "Art is insight transformed into peak experience." Where Campello's anything is an actual creation, Burgess' insight is more abstract and difficult to quantify. Again, we have thingness as Art contrasted with the ideologically relative as Art although both approaches, at least in these examples, do not dictate evaluation or hierarchy.
Only three of the respondents not only involved evaluation but also felt that the valuation of any product of Art has to be for the good, so to speak. Robert Revere, for example, feels that ..."(Art) is for the purpose of improving the conditions of life," and the American Federation of Art wants it to "...display... beauty..." while Kim Roberts believes it can "...create order out of the chaos of the world." Does the fact that these three form such a minority here tell us something about cynicism and artists as a group?
Turning from the foibles of human artistic ego, it can be admirably observed that more in the group defined Art from a social or even cosmic perspective than from a self-derived or personal perspective. The most expansive cosmic interpretation might be Susken Rosenthal and Benoit Maubrey's take, "Art is: WHAT?" while a definition illustrative of social orientation might be Warren Criswell's, "Art is any action performed by humans to imitate, alter or counteract the works of nature." Meanwhile, of the smaller, though enthusiastic, number (17) who define Art from a totally personal perspective, the definitions range from humorous to poetic. Deborah Sokolove's, "Art is the thing that defines a big portion of who I am and what I think about, but rarely have time to do," is certainly amusing and typical of the artistic life while, "Art is the string of favorite orange beads that I gave up for Lent when I was five years old," by Sharon Stanczak, is so very poignant.
A final attribute, implicit in most responses, concerns the arguable necessity that Art have, in order to be relevant, not only a relationship with humans but with our history as well. Alberto Gaitan believes it has both relationships and insists, "Art is a judgment of history." Although a singular opinion in this group, logic does dictate support particularly if we consider our fast-paced existence where even nano-seconds count and then see a correlation between accrued knowledge and the human ability to make Art. Most would agree that we humans are in part what our past has made us, so perhaps this applies to our Art as well?
And yet, just as surely as this is true, isn't it also true that no one second in time is identical to any other? And so, isn't it also probable that some form of life is making a kind of art, totally independent of human beings, right now? Perhaps this could take the form of a spontaneous, ephemeral dance which is undocumented and later cannot be remembered by the entity who creates it. Does this mean that the dance was not Art, or worse, did not occur? Probably no, and especially if the phenomenon occurred in another world where we humans are not able to identify or evaluate. Kathy Keler sheds light on the transcendence and timelessness of Art in her understanding of it as, "...feeling and intellect engaged in a dance of mutual seduction." In placing the existence of Art in the here and now before it slips into memory or is documented, she isolates it as fleeting yet actual, each moment creating itself -- being of the moment yet all moments. But, is this truly independent of human history? Probably not, especially if accrued knowledge has bearing upon intellect. Yet the previous notion of timelessness remains so much more attractive especially for its romantic appeal; and what better human nourishment for Art exists than romance, even as fickle, arbitrary, and difficult to quantify as it can be?