Week Five: Searching For Essence + Dancing on the Scar

So this week, we're "Searching For the Essence of Art" with Arthur C. Danto... sounds like fun. Let's jump on in! Wait, what exactly are we searching for?! A needle in a haystack? Sasquatch? No? Okay, okay that's right... essence ... we're searching for essence. Oh, such a sparkly and beautiful word, yet I honestly have no idea the concrete/academic meaning off the top of my head. Do you? Sure, I know what essence is. If I saw it, I'd know. If I touched it I'd know. If I tasted it, I'd know. Essence is something, that thing, that special something, that makes *that* something what it is. But that's a bunch of jibber-jabbish and totally ambiguous. So without further adieu, I've consulted my good friend wikipedia with a basic and much more clear insight on to just what essence really is: in philosophy, essence is the attribute or set of attributes that make an object or substance what it fundamentally is, and which it has by necessity, and without which it loses its identity. So, in a sense (pun intended) essence is what makes art, art, but the thing that makes art what it is is inherently tied to it and it cannot lose it's essence or it loses its identity? Is that what you're telling me, wikipedia? Hmm. So essence, in the most simple and reduced terms, is the indispensable element, the most crucial component to anything. So now, onward ho! We continue our search for the essence of art. Look under the canvas. Find it? No. Look on top of the art installation. Is it there? Nope. Look at the black and white photos in the museum. See it? *Still searching* That essence we're so adamantly searching for is pretty elusive. Wanna know why? Because I don't think it's tangible. Instead, I think the essence of art is dialogue-- communication, fluidity, movement, criticisms, histories, cultures-- all of it encompasses dialogue. Dialogue is the critical component in art, that without its essence, art loses its identity. Dialogue between the audience and the artists, between cultures, between one art critic and another, between friends, so long as the dialogue is open and reflecting upon art, is the essence.

The dialogue is what makes art what it fundamentally is: a vehicle for conversation, a participatory engagement with the art and with the world. Without dialogue in art, well... I don't think art would exist. Sure, pretty pictures might exist without art, but what makes art art is that we are challenged, intrigued, upset, engaged, or otherwise affected by its presence, its essence. This week, Gablik questions, did "recognition of cultural difference led to greater global dialogue, or to an ethnocentricsm that reinforces separatism?" and "How can audiences take on the role of participant rather than spectator?" First of all, how about we define art in different terms: instead of strictly visual, how about a sensory and participatory act, a kind of fluidity between the art and our experiences, back-and-forth, creating this great dialogue. I think we all can agree on that. I know I also agree with Danto's sentiments, in that if we were to find a solution through criticism, that open dialogue back and forth produces an atmosphere for people to express how they're feeling-- their sentiments on whatever cultural or socio-economic issue is at hand-- and then walk away from it. If we solved our problems in a way that didn't alienate the "other" but listened to all sides of the issue and respected the thoughts of others without necessarily agreeing, then much of the world's problems probably wouldn't exist. But here's where I get cynical: Yes, it'd be great if everything was all rainbows and butterflies and ponies, and if everyone got to say their piece and be done with it, and if we could all feel respected and feel as though our opinions, views, criticisms, what have you, were respected and held in high regard, but the truth is not everyone has a voice, not everyone will express their views even if given the chance, and there will always be at least one person who is uncooperative with an open and honest dialogue among cultures and will cause problems for the rest. So, in theory it's a great idea, moving toward solving problems through open dialogue and criticisms and philosophizing and all that sparkly stuff, but I just don't realistically see it happening so long as we're free to do and think and act however we please.  Suzi Gablik's problem, and it seems mine as well, with pluralism (or philosophy) is that it encourages more individualism, and that is the exact opposite sentiments that Gablik supports. She desires for a new "paradigm of interrelatedness" or communication between communities/cultures. And as for Danto, he says he's afraid of "community." He doesn't want to be told what to do, and he thinks it complete authoritarian, where as Gablik thinks community denotes a more consensual, inviting structure of living. But what about essence? Isn't that what they're supposed to be searching for?

Isn't it right in front of us? This dialogue between Danko and Gablik, isn't that the essence of art, in a sense. Now I'm stretching this pretty far but here me out: the essence of art is the fact that two people are sitting down together in a room, taking time out of their day, to reflect on art, the historical and hierarchical context of it, and of philosophy, questioning which one is most conducive to growing the interconnectedness among people and cross cultures, and how it all relates? Isn't that what makes art special? Isn't that what makes art fundamentally art? The fact that people are sitting down and debating and deliberating and even criticizing with each other. I think that's the essence. I may have completely lost my mind, but that's what I think the essence is. That's what I think essence in art is. All the jibber jabber, the philosophizing of this, the criticizing of that, the attention to this certain piece, of that certain event, "oh my god, it was horrible!", "did you see that crazy whacky abstract piece?", "that river cleaning thing they're doing sure is inspiring. maybe I should start recycling, or save the planet" ... I mean, that's what makes art art! That's why art is art. Because people are talking about it. Without the dialogue, there's no essence.

Ron Graff was wonderful in person; charismatic, intriguing, a little zany. He had that essence. When someone's brilliant, you just know. I for sure felt his essence, the almost intrinsic nature of dialogue he had with himself. He commented on his art and told whimsical stories of how this painting came to be or this painting was some other painting and then two years later it transformed into this painting. I found his style and his mentality about art and about his creations a very fluid one; that is to say, that much like Coco Fusco, Graff creates this intense, intimate relationship between himself and society (or, in many cases, the scenery) that provides a back and forth movement between the two worlds; Graff goes out and experiences life and learns about things or sees a new static kind of scene in nature and translates that onto a painting. Although his subjects are still life, and manly objects or scenery, Graff still has this fluidity and this movement about his art, like he is constantly learning from one art piece, and then scraps away at the painting or throws another layer of paint on top to create this dynamic image, both literally and metaphorically. It's this brilliant kind of juxtaposition between the static still life that he puts onto the canvas and the canvas as this fluid, ever changing medium for which Graff creates and is constantly changing its identity. It's definitely got the essence.

In, "Two Undiscovered Aborigines Dancing on the Wound of History" Coco Fusco
recalls that in the participatory art installation, people had to figure out for themselves if the "natives" were legitimate or not. This installation encouraged participatory interaction between the art/artists and the cultural, and in the larger context of the community and history, provoking/creating dialogue among audience. Throughout the event, the objectification of the natives in the context of racial and elitist hierarchy was highlighted, and it seems some of the audience was uncomfortable or even outraged at such an art installation. The range of emotions that this event provoked can be explained pretty simply: since issues today are more emotionally charged than in the past because they are more ecologically and politically important than ever. So, it seems that with the emotionally charged issues and dialogue that follows, art is becoming more dynamic, as opposed to the static environment that it once inhabited, which was based on observations only. In the art installation of Fusco, engaging with the audience was the fundamental goal; the audience's participation was a crucial component to the success of the event/piece and also to the success of the changing, solving, deliberating of cultural issues. If the audience is engaged and participating, then they will feel as though they have a voice or a part in the issue that is being brought to light, and thus they will feel more propelled to act. If they are simply observing, and do not have a participatory role in the event or viewing of art, they are not going to feel incorporated into the history it is presenting or the questions it is trying to raise, and thus they won't feel the need to reflect on and/or participate in some kind of cultural shift or change in their thoughts and actions.

So, seems only logical that if we transform what we understand as art, as we seem to be doing, we will then transform our thoughts about art, and expand on the role that art could play in our culture if we were to really let it. If we transform what we think art ought to be in to what we want art to be/what we want art to do for us, we can perhaps transform our understanding not only of art in the most basic context, but also transform our ideas and views on the cultural issues that art brings to the forefront. If we break down these hierarchical walls in the art world that we've built up between cultures and between continents and between histories, then to we might be able to break down the walls between people as a whole as well. In the case of the event of the Aboriginals being caged, I found it interesting that some people were afraid, while others were upset, while others immediately read into the metaphorical level of what the piece was getting at. And for all of these different ranges of emotions comes a different levels of participation, involvement and engagement with the piece and with the larger issues at hand. Some participation was direct, communicative and physically interacting with the caged people, while some participation was more of an internal metaphorical contextualize of the participatory piece.

Fusco says that "now everybody's getting bombarded with everybody else's culture- maybe not in an equal way, but there's some kind of cultural interaction that we share" which has to be understood before we can understand how we are constructing ourselves and our identities in our own cultures. I agree with Fusco in the sense that the movement between the world of art and the world of culture and cultural identity should be fluid and participatory, a constant stream of interconnectedness and communicative relations that better help us understand and relate with the world and with ourselves, and that we can indeed achieve this through participatory art, so long as we take the time and the care to reflect and react responsibly. And so long as we remember to bring the essence, we'll be dancing on the scars of history.