Art are...

Some say that art is what you want it to be - that art is a creation of each individual’s own mind. We decide for ourselves what we want to declare as art – whether it is a stain on the pavement, a conversation between two people or a graffiti-covered wall. This is perhaps the purest and most relieving way to think about art. It not only reminds us of our own power to create, but it also makes art look innocent and honest – freed from the prejudice that we would usually attach to it.

I sometimes think of art as a group of powerful people - artists, art critics, art gallery owners, art curators, art sellers and art collectors. I imagine them sitting around a table in a dark room deciding over art’s fate. A bunch of cynical entrepreneurs who are laughing at the ignorance of an inescapable consumerist mentality. This gathering of connivers have slurped up even the last drop of benefit dripping from the 20th Century myth they’ve created and which I have now dubbed ‘The Demise of Talent’. As for the rest of us - we have bought into this myth. They have made us believe that talent has retired, that it is long past its expiry date. That talent is ‘uncool’, conservative, boring. To us talent is no longer the key to success. What counts now is controversiality, shock and difference. Aesthetic beauty has come to be a mere bonus to our appreciation of art.

Art - the talented, humble, small town boy who use to work to make a living has finally smelled success. He now sits on the top of the social ladder, legs crossed in a shiny suit, waving around a big, fat cigar. He sells pebbles for the price of gold. He manipulates the rich and ignorant with his clever spell of words. He is a combination of Macbeth, Iago and Aaron all fused into one perfectly designed villain. Art cannot be trusted. Art is unpredictable. It is driven by superficiality and success. It is a trickster. A traitor. It insults, revolts, upsets and objectifies. And what does it get in return? Money. And lots of it! Not even to mention the publicity, fascination, fanaticism and saucy gossip it leaves behind. Much of what is called Art today is sensation in its purest form. We should not trust Art, but yet we somehow indulge in our addiction to it.

Why is it that we find ourselves in a love-hate relationship with art? Perhaps it is because we can’t figure Art out. And - as is characteristic to human behaviour - we cannot settle for uncertainty. We cannot let go if we do not grasp. Another reason why we feel uneasy yet drawn to Art could be that Art admits about us what we do not want to admit about ourselves. Do not each one of us also contain a measure of Shakespearean villain inside of us? Could it be that we hate Art because it gives away our secrets, our flaws? And that we love it because of its willingness to celebrate our confused nature, honestly and openly?

Perhaps then, what seems to be meaningless trickery is in fact Art as we remember it - objectively smart! Contemporary Art is merely reflecting the mindset of the society it finds itself in. It personifies materialism, consumerism, capitalism and the ever growing loss of morality that goes hand in hand with these extravagances. Very clever we might add, how Art once again carefully camouflaged itself as an inherent part of our being - an unquestionable, ‘indissectable’ creation of our naivety, when in reality it is perhaps desperately trying to pierce through our hopelessly blind satisfaction with ourselves. There is hope once again! We need not give up on Art, but rather we need to watch it closely, carefully and with sufficient scepticism in order to capture every hint it throws at us - or else we might soon find ourselves tiptoeing down the walk of shame with overpriced pebbles in our pockets.