Beyond the Binary: Embracing Uncertainty and Authenticity in Art
By Audrey Treon
“I am not an abstractionist… I’m not interested in relationships of color or form…. I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions—tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on—and the fact that lots of people break down and cry when confronted with my pictures shows that I communicate those basic human emotions… The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you… are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point!” -Mark Rothko
No. 61, 1953 by Mark Rothko, courtesy of The Museum of Contemporary Art
“Art” is somewhat of an all-encompassing word. And in this case, I want it to be all-encompassing — I want it to refer to everything from the macaroni necklace your niece gave you with a smile, to performance art pieces that you’re not quite sure you “get” but still manage to make your skin crawl in a strangely satisfying manner, to the quarantine era watercolor you made with paints that are now gathering dust, to the heavy metal rock your parents “just don’t understand,” and silent films that will (rather reductively) get you labeled as “pretentious,” to the things you perceive in your daily life that make you feel something, anything. I want “art” to refer to whatever the hell you deem art, for argument’s sake.
Speaking of “getting it,” why do we feel a twinge of inferiority when we don’t “get” what we’re perceiving? I really, really dislike Maurizio Cattelan’s 2019 piece Comedian. How it sold for $6,000,000 is simply beyond me. And hell, perhaps my dislike of it comes from my misunderstanding of it. Maybe I really don’t understand nor like bananas and duct tape — and maybe that’s okay. Maybe I don’t have to write a research paper on the piece, delving into the historical, agricultural, and anthropological context of bananas as a fruit and duct tape as an adhesion device and its connection to the Industrial Revolution. I do not want my hesitation to learn to come across as absolute. I love learning and I love my discernment. I know myself and I know I don’t need to learn about every single thing I come in contact with, especially when I don’t want to. I think that is an overlooked and often misrepresented trait of humans — taste. When applied productively, taste is not as shallow as “I like this and I don’t like that.” Taste is more nuanced than that, taste is “I’m not attracted to that painting, so I’ll move onto the next one which I know I am utterly enthralled with.” I recognize what I like and don’t like, and while there are wide margins within those labels, I do not feel the need to subject myself to something I simply don’t enjoy if I don’t want to. Yes, there is power and knowledge in engaging with the unknown and disliked. But, not doing that is not a sign of weakness or a refusal to learn, rather it is a sign of understanding and knowing oneself.
Reflections, 1919, Norman Lindsay; Courtesy of Pinterest
There is an unnecessary hierarchy in the world of art. Either you’re in or you’re out, you’re smart or dumb, you’re cultured or uncultured, etc., etc. What if humans exist outside of these binaries — what if we are in a state of constant learning and, in turn, unknowing? And what would happen if we embraced that?
I think if we embraced that, our caste system would crumble. And that scares people. There is a quiet sense of urgency that exists within the entire world, specifically the art world. Urgency to understand, to know as much or more than your peers, to feel the knowledge run through your veins, and in turn, that satisfying hit of dopamine. Everyone wants to be in the “in” group, where the money and status are — the art world is no exception.
The caste system also applies to the money-driven elitism within the art world. For the 1%, the billionaires, the Jeff Bezos’ of the world, art is an asset more than an expression of the human soul. How sad. Art and the perception of art are all about nuance, but does that really apply when you are met with evil people buying art for the sake of making more money? I don’t think so. Art is radical, expressive, and complex. The capitalistic drive forcibly attached to art reduces its humanity. When an artistic expression of the soul and human psyche is reduced to monetary and status gain, what is it left with? Exorbitant wealth can detach a person from the rest of society, thereby separating them from their own humanity.
As people, we must be able to critique, understand one another, and ourselves, and exist within the grey areas of comprehension. Our power lies within our ability to say “I don’t know.” Let us lean into that.
