Recently some confessional liner notes inspired me to think:
I go round and round with these concepts like a hamster in a wheel.
Why do you make art?
- To take any gig there is? Any music is better than no music?
- Just concerts – “High Art”
- Functional art – carved chairs and wedding processionals.
- Only self-generated original art, not copies.
- Is your only goal immortality? Who will forget you?
What’s your relationship to your “fans?”
- Do you need privacy?
- You need to transmit your art/product somehow (for some reason. It seems like OCD). It’s a combination of communicating and saying, “Look, I made this!” If you just wanted to make money, you’d do something else, so this long ago ceased to be about potential gobs of money you could make from art.
- Your need to feel “authentic;” if what you show to others is too far away from your actual position, then it feels “fake” and is not sustainable without a great deal of effort. To keep doing a job, it must be in some way rewarding and not too strenuous, even if minimally rewarding and exhausting.
- Consumers’ (the fans’) needs to believe that the artist is genuine and transmitting their own personality and ideas; that it is truth and not “product” as the basis for credibility and shared experience; the fans need to believe the artist is “authentic.”
- This sort of thing provides a fertile ground for endless unfounded and entertaining speculation on internet forums. Maybe these liner notes are just in-jokes for former housemates.
So what we get as an “art product” is hybridization of what’s personal and what’s commoditized (I’m not sure, honestly, if in this case I’m confusing commoditization with palatability). To be clear, I’m referring to a CD where, no matter how confessional, the point of the thing is to sell it to “fans.” It’s not a series of paintings based on the artist’s life, where their purpose as commodity is secondary to the purpose of existing at all. I’m certain that there’s a wider spectrum of commoditization available due to modern technology, from home-made CDrs to signed limited edition box sets. For further reading you can go to the Color Theory blog, here: http://passivepromotion.com/an-argument-against-fan-funding… remember to read the comments too!
Anyway…
- If the art product is too unique, it’s too introspective, it’s not salable, mostly because no one else is you. Something that is too unique, too intimate, TMI, an “unfinished” product, may not meet the minimum standard of what the average reasonable and prudent person would expect from an arm’s length transaction in regards to an average art product of that type, or average music in that genre.
- Universal truths sell well (think Shakespeare) but are inherently not unique to any one person. But because they apply to everybody, they’re personal truths.
- So what we end up with is a refined, commoditized, processed product two or three steps away from the source experience and yet described as “deeply personal” or “meaningful” in some way to the artist. It’s grape jam instead of grapes on the vine, but not so far away as wine. And sometimes it rhymes badly.
- Hopefully, as a result, the public’s been sufficiently convinced that the product is authentic, you’re sharing something personal, and it’s been smoothed over to include a commonality of experience and language that makes it “shareable” and not just TMI. And in the process the artist has some catharsis from stepping away from the source material, or some extra practice from bringing a project to completion.
Art can be cathartic and communicative amongst its other functions and benefits. Although, I tend to prefer both functional-decorative arts and “pure art” or “art for art’s sake” possibly because they don’t occupy the muddy middle ground of confessional communications. I also have noticed that I gravitate toward unfinished products, possibly because they feel more “authentic,” and I’ve absorbed a large chunk of the cultural cult of the authentic along with American individualism.
Is it important to minimize convergent evolution in art?
In biology, convergent evolution describes two species of different lineages that develop similar traits, usually through similar evolutionary pressures.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convergent_evolution
I feel this happens in art, (and sometimes in science) when similar (or different) stressors result in the artist’s producing a sense of dj vu, art that’s been done mostly that way before or is substantially similar to other art going on at the same time, as a result of cultural convergence. It’s not a copy… it’s not an influence. It’s a similar result from an independent chain of inputs.
How important is it to be different? Is it OK to be in-genre? Not innovative? That even if you think you’re being innovative, there is nothing new under the sun, and you’re just expressing that which other people have expressed in similar ways, in some convergence of sentiment?
Many benchmarks for art/music/culture point to uniqueness, innovation or extremity of examples. I rarely think of work within the bounds of its genre as a benchmark, even if it’s exemplary. I think the focus on work that founds or changes a niche in people’s thinking is emblematic of the human desire to be constantly entertained with something new, even though you can’t define a genre without a reasonably sized body of work from which some examples can be selected as paragons.
I feel strongly that the current media atmosphere – bigger, faster, stronger, more spectacular, with instant gratification and shorter download times, with less room for the imagination – raises the bar for anyone trying to make “art.” For example, it’s not enough to conquer the Olympic act of singing Opera; now we must do it dressed in mermaid outfits floating in harnesses twenty feet above a moving stage. http://www.nytimes.com/imagepages/2010/09/28/arts/28met3.html
If a hamster runs in its wheel, and then someone turns its cage around, does it make a difference to the hamster?