Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 1998/04/12
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I am not defending "Erik Hanson...focusing...on the spot where the
sound from two speakers converge," as reported by Tina; nor "Mov[ing]
in really close for a tight head shot...then rack[ing] the lens way
out of focus [and] Us[ing] a very slow shutter speed and shak[ing] the
camera like hell," as GH described; nor making "a decent grade on a
roll of out of focus poorly exposed chrome shot while drunk just
because we concocted a good line of BS for the teacher," as admitted
by Harrison McClary; nor whatever "technically perfect rock or fern or
peeling paint as static as a dead mouse picture" Ted had in mind; nor
the "photographs...palmed off as art...created by the same people that
welded old junk together, paint it, and call it art" discussed by Mike
and Jim; nor that million dollar, "long, tall piece...[with]...three
vertical stripes -- two blue ones at either end, and a red one in the
middle, all the same width, running lengthwise from top to bottom" GH
told us about; nor "the guy who canned his own feces and sold it for
$10,000...[and]...told collectors he was doing it just for the money
and...thought it funny" that Eric Welch mentioned; nor any of those
other many examples of "prima facie" non-art that have been held up
for ridicule on the LUG the last few days.
But when Mike says, "I don't think photographs are art and I don't
think photographers are artists," I must contend that it seems pretty
clear to me that many photographs by Henri Cartier-Bresson and Ansel
Adams are indeed art. (And with apologies to Christian Becker, I'd
try to name other photographers, but I don't want to overreach myself
in my unfortunate general ignorance.)
And I think it may be worth considering that, by ourselves, we may not
see or understand everything that is to be seen or understood about a
work of art when we experience it the first time. When Jim Brick says
that "I learn all of the time. But it's from inside me. Not from
someone who thinks they have all the answers." and "Art...is inside
me. Not in some book." and "If you have to 'learn' to like something,
I'm not sure it's your 'feeling' any longer. Isn't it someone else's?
Those that you learned from?" he is arguing against a false position.
Obviously no one has "all the answers," and we should not waste our
time listening to anyone who thinks he does; neither should we simply
adopt "someone else's...'feeling'" as our own. But that is not to say
that we cannot sometimes learn something about art from someone else.
Rather it makes sense both to experience art for ourselves and also to
learn what we can from other people who are perceptive (that is, from
their experiences of the artwork itself, not from their knowledge of
the artist's biography or his intentions or the history of his era,
all of which are peripheral, no matter how interesting they may be).
If I don't like a painting or photograph or piece of music, someone
else may tell me, "I like it because I see this or hear that in it."
Then, when I look or listen again, I may learn from that person's
experience and say, "Yes, now I see or hear what you pointed out."
But I am also free to say, "No, I don't see or hear what you do, and I
continue to dislike the piece." So either way, what remains important
is my "feeling," not "someone else's." This function---to operate as
a perceptive, experienced, professional guide, pointing out what he
sees or hears, but not dictating---is the one a good critic performs.
(Unfortunately, however, the ratio of good critics to bad ones is, if
anything, even lower than that of artists.) And whether we learn from
someone else's experience personally or read about it in "some book"
is immaterial.
Art Peterson