Let’s Think About Art — Really Think
A debate, which lately people have taken a political stance on, is whether there is such a thing as objective quality in art. Basically, the right thinks there is, although they have a very narrow understanding of what makes for it, and the left thinks there is not, mostly as overcompensation to the right’s oversimplification. It is a more limp wristed version of the old Dead White Male vs PC Elitist debate. Well, people love to reduce everything to a shallow talking point, don’t they?
This is the norm, as most people who talk about art do not care about art in and of itself. “Well, that’s just the internet” you say. No, it’s not just the internet. Even artists themselves don’t seem to care, inasmuch as art is secondary to politics or emotions or the whims of the market. Now, I have heard every definition tossed around, but ultimately forms of art are forms of communication, and they are optimized to do certain things well, even if they lack in other respects. For example, film is better than prose for portraying atmosphere, external details, and even symbolism. But prose is better at getting into characters and the internal, as well as engaging the mind more actively. Understanding the strengths and weaknesses of each will help to maximize their quality. The very existence of such is an aspect of what is objective about art. No matter how well you describe a scene with words, a film is always going to provide more sensory information because it operates at a sensory level. Yet the imagination will fill in the gaps if given a handful of essential, if memorable, clues. Writing allows for a more personal experience. The meat, however, is what gets into the mind directly.
If you have ever read a play, that is perhaps the purest form of prose. There is no narrator, apart from a few stage directions, nor are there actors — all you are left with is dialogue. And yet, even a film based on the play will not necessarily be better. When a play is acted out, whether on stage or on camera, it becomes crystallized to a degree. The interpretations of the director, actors and everyone else involved will give a specific form to the play’s content. The reader might have a different interpretation. This is an element of subjectivity.
Both exist, since there is at once the material object of the work along with the percipient. Here is where people get stuck on the demotic notion of “popular equals good” — they think criticism is a way of talking about how much pleasure someone had engaging with a piece of art. If a lot of people like it, it must be good. In short NO!
That would obviously be ridiculous since how popular something can be depends, more than anything else, on the size of its target audience. For films today, to paraphrase Anthony Mackie, the largest audiences are going to be “16 year old boys and China.” Look at the shlock that makes the big bucks in Hollywood, and it’s plain to see, this ain’t exactly Kubrick. And sure Kubrick has a following today, but most of his films were critically panned on release, taking a decade or 2 for the consensus to come around. Kubrick is perhaps the greatest filmmaker in history, both in terms of breadth and depth. His films may not be entertaining to the casual viewer (the reason for the initial critical response), but they have a lot of substance and their artistry is outstanding (the reason for the turn around — even acting on a subconscious level). Many viewers go on about how difficult they are to watch and/or understand. For someone like me, they are intriguing, moving and often funny. The difference is a matter of taste. Detailing the ways in which an individual takes pleasure in a work of art is not the point of criticism. The point is to discern what is being communicated, going back to our definition, and how well it is communicated. This is a rather reductive way of stating it, anyway. Criticism, like art, cannot be boiled down to a formula. It requires a lot of creativity to critique art, on top of analytic thinking.
The substance of art is primarily intellectual in nature. This is why great art aims high, whereas mediocre art, even if successful commercially, aims low. Most people spend their time in front of the TV, and now online, being passively entertained. There is no engagement required in most shows because the plot is self explanatory and the characters are there to serve the plot. Now, ambiguity is not necessary, not every film has to resemble Tarkovsky’s Mirror, but, well it is in the nature of corporations — which sell art like a product, and rely on marketing to do so — not to trust the audience. If they have to tell you that you should watch their latest show, they aren’t going to expect you, Humanoid #634759, to get what they don’t explicitly make clear.
Have I made myself clear? Good. Now, let’s look at 2001: A Space Odyssey. In the opening scene there are 2 tribes of hominids (also humanoids) fighting. Later, a Monolith appears and and one of the tribes discovers that bones can be used as weapons, which they use to fend off the other tribe. There is that great moment of the bone being tossed up and turning into a spacecraft, and instead of violence their is a waltz. We have jumped forward millennia, and we see the utter lack of tribalism present, as the Americans and Russians are collaborating with each other to the extent that bureaucracy allows. I mean, they discover a damn Monolith on the moon and you see just how detached they are in their conference. Look at the scenes of the shuttle heading to the lunar base. The viewer is greeted with majestic shots of space, and yet the crew are yapping on about sandwiches. Skipping forward, on the Jupiter Mission, we see violence as it exists in the future (or alternate past?) of 2001. Hal kills several people in their hibernation chambers, summed up with “LIFE FUNCTIONS TERMINATED”. In fact, the most tragic death of the film is Hal’s own, as Dave Bowman slowly dismantles his mind. Humans are switched off yet a computer dies. This is art worth thinking about. Here are the scenes for contrast:
Part of the reason Kubrick takes his time and holds on a scene where seemingly little is going on is to let certain things sink in, cerebrally, not just for the emotional or aesthetic aspect. You don’t get that in the quick-cut, pace-conscious films that are a staple of Hollywood. When your work (or product) has no intellectual depth nor pathos, your biggest concern becomes not boring your audience. Yet, even as corporations like Disney continue to dismantle the mind of culture, there are resources like Project Gutenberg, a library of classic literature that can be downloaded in a number of formats for free. There is also still a lot of great art being created today, which I will be showcasing in future. For now, chew on the classics and expand your taste, my good friend #6-something-something…