What is the movement of the moment? — Bitter Crank
I think in some ways the question is inapplicable to these creations. I tend to think the point, perhaps, is that there isn't anything to necessarily think about.
A painting of, say, the crucifixion from some Renaissance master is pretty straight forward in terms of what it's conveying and what we are to think and feel about it. But a lot of modern art is deliberately un-straight forward in terms of what it's trying to convey and how we are to react to it. Take Duchamp's Fountain, as you show us above. What the hell am I supposed to think when seeing some New York urinal? Who knows. Maybe even Duchamp doesn't know.
This is actually the reason why I don't like this kind of "art." It strikes me as a pointless waste of time, since art for me is transportative - it takes me out of myself for a short while - whereas staring at a urinal or some paint splotches on a canvas do not have such an effect. They mostly make me irritated. There are exceptions, of course, but modern art has always rubbed me the wrong way. — Thorongil
...does not express this or that individual or particular joy, this or that sorrow or pain or horror or exaltation or cheerfulness or peace of mind, but rather joy, sorrow, pain, horror, exaltation, cheerfulness and peace of mind as such in themselves, abstractly… — Schopenhauer, WWR 289
When I hear what we call “music”, it seems to me like someone is talking; and talking about his feelings or about his ideas or relationships. But when I hear traffic, the sound of traffic, here on Sixth Avenue for instance, I don’t have the feeling that anyone is talking. I have the feeling that sound is acting. And I love the activity of sound. I don't need sound to talk to me, I'm completely satisfied with it by itself.
From: http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-arts-and-culture/books/101723/a-philosopher-of-small-thingsThe best example of anti-art, Groys writes, is Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 “Readymade Fountain.” Duchamp signed (under the name R. Mutt) and dated a store-bought, mass-made, porcelain urinal and then exhibited it. Is the urinal art? Does it do what art is supposed to do? Once it’s been moved into a gallery space, Duchamp suggests, the answer is decisively yes. And what is art supposed to do, anyway? If a viewer gives the urinal—or fountain, rather—the same kind of concentrated attention one gives a work by Monet, is it any less of an aesthetic experience? Duchamp seems to be saying that the creativity and craftsmanship one sees in excellent works of fine art can be found lining the walls of public restrooms, if only one is able to look at those urinals in a certain way. Beauty is not just in the eye of the beholder, anti-art points out, but is invented in the eye of the beholder.
Anti-art’s aim is not to rob art of its purpose but to democratize it, to make it clear that the bathroom has as much aesthetic interest as the gallery if only one is able to change one’s mindset.
You seem to be lumping together abstract paintings with Duchamp's urinal, all under the category of "modern art". — jamalrob
Duchamp's urinal is one of the first examples of what we now call conceptual art. This is art that mocks artistry, skill, training and mastery, and renounces what was always fundamental in art: the artist as maker, applying his or her hand to a material. Many conceptual works, like those of Damien Hirst, are not actually made by the artist; they are assembled by assistants or gallery staff according to the artist's instructions. When challenged on this practice Hirst speaks with contempt about those who apply their own artistry: "A man who is great with his hands might as well make macramé." Apparently it is the job of artists to create concepts. The true artist then, for Hirst, is now a kind of stunt philosopher. — jamalrob
They were making objects for people to look at, with their own hands, struggling to capture or explore aspects of nature and perceptual experience. These objects didn't usually have a message. They didn't usually try to tell stories. Rather, they invited people just to use their eyes, for the hell of it. What can be more straightforward than that? — jamalrob
What do you think of these landscapes by Turner, Cézanne, and Strindberg? — jamalrob
If "modern art" includes the paintings you linked, the impressionists, and the symbolists, then I can say I do like modern art. Whatever one uses to call the predominant forms of "art" after about 1920 is what I am almost universally repelled by. Is there a term for that or is it just "conceptual art" as you mentioned above? — Thorongil
Whatever one uses to call the predominant forms of "art" after about 1920 is what I am almost universally repelled by. Is there a term for that or is it just "conceptual art" as you mentioned above? — Thorongil
They ought to have written books, then. — Thorongil
Non-representation art functions in a very immediate sense; it is not about displaying some obvious or clear representation through the painstaking work of the artist towards perfection, but rather living the moment of the artwork itself. — TheWillowOfDarkness
As a general comment, since jamalrob brought up my favorite cantankerous bachelor from Frankfurt, I would be willing to admit that what is called "conceptual art" (and literally everything) theoretically has the possibility to affect the aforementioned transportative experience, but all I'm saying is that it doesn't do this for me and that it is a mistake to call it art. — Thorongil
They ought to have written books, then. What they're doing is not art. But if they freely admit to being unskilled smartasses, then nothing more needs to be said. — Thorongil
Get involved in philosophical discussions about knowledge, truth, language, consciousness, science, politics, religion, logic and mathematics, art, history, and lots more. No ads, no clutter, and very little agreement — just fascinating conversations.