E.H. Gombrich’s, The Story of Art, famously begins with the thought that, “There is really no such thing as Art. There are only artists.” Contemporary art has indeed fulfilled Gombrich’s prescience and insight with a somewhat sorrowful consequence, probably unforeseen when first published in 1950. The past half century has birthed an art in which the conceptual presence of the artist has eclipsed his creation – the work of art. As theory and ideas have become both the driving force of the artist’s creation and the measure against which the viewer evaluates it, the ‘work of art’ has been subject to a draining of its language, i.e.- of its ability to articulate its own reason for being. This deficit of language is now manifest in an excessive reliance on a large infrastructure of ancillary exposition to give voice to these concepts. In this way the work of art has become relegated to a mere illustration of the artist’s thought and unable to dialogue independently of its context.

The problem for the contemporary viewer is that more and more, these works simply can’t answer the questions which the art, itself, poses. The concept’s eclipse of the work has bereft this art of the language to dialogue with its viewer. It is mute art in which the articulation of the artist’s intention must be sought in sources like wall texts, titles, artist’s biographies, criticism and journals–which is to say, in places exterior to the work. In a sense the artist is working outside the work of art.

So what is an articulate work of art? What kind of language does it have? And how does it dialogue on its own terms? Thinking again of Gombrich; if there are in fact only artists, where in the work is he found? The answer may be manifest in an artist like Kara Walker, whose works are powerfully articulate. Conversing with this art requires neither a prior familiarity with her biography nor, as a basis of understanding, any exterior exposition. Beats Me, for example, is certainly capable of evoking any number of different reactions in a viewer, depending on his cultural background or personal politics. It may, for some, be seen as rooted in an emotional conviction and certain thematic intensity which she conveys in an unfairly harsh voice. On the other hand, for others, it may articulate an insightfulness about patterns of social justice, long denied. More importantly however, the viewer will feel his own interpretation confidently; as if caught up in a dialogue, with all its emotional conviction and sincerity. The language of the work reaches out to the viewer in response to the questions it has already posed – thus the dialogue is sustained.

Unquestionably, turning to the wall text will sharpen this initial interpretation. The more Kara Walker’s work is contextualized the better the interpretation possible. As the viewer begins to study her larger body of work, her biography, personal history, influences etc., a more precise understanding of Beats Me will present itself. This back-and-forth dialogue will continue to provoke new insights and finer explanations; as is true of any effective conversation.

Therefore, after reading the title of the piece, one’s interpretation of the work will likely change again. Perhaps it was first imagined that the two white men were speaking with concern about the condition of the boy on the left, but after reading the title, that scenario seems less plausible. Instead it begins to feel more likely that they are in some way maliciously implicated in his condition. Maybe remembering the boy’s sultry, over the shoulder glance, will shift the meaning of Beats Me once more; this time towards the primacy of the boy’s confused and obfuscated sexuality; which is only to say that there is no one definitive interpretation, there is no one meaning. However, regardless of the hermeneutic, no additional explanation is needed outside the work itself. Its imagery, alone, allows the intention of the artist to dialogue indefinitely with the interpretation of the viewer. The language of the work is the active participant in the conversation with the artist’s intention.

The eclipsed work of art, on the other hand, is unable to articulate its intention and so, necessarily, exists in a dependent relationship with an ancillary text, which does the heavy lifting of the interpretation. These works often seem to serve more as an illustration of a concept than as an embodiment of it. Take for example Julie Moos’ series, Friends and Enemies. The wall text taken from the 2002 Whitney Biennial catalogue describes Moos’ process and the work as follows:

“[Removing] her subjects from their natural environment and [placing] them in front of a neutral backdrop… Moos’ sitters are presented directly and objectively… Friends and enemies [is] based on powerful bonds of friendship and enmity that she discovered over the course of several months spent analyzing the school’s yearbooks and interviewing guidance counselors, teachers, and the students themselves. The students did not know with whom they would be paired until the moment their portraits were to be taken. Nor are we, the viewers, ever informed whether the couples we see are the best of friends or sworn enemies.”   

Undoubtedly, there is much Moos wants to say about equality, prejudice, assumption, objectivity and so on. The question is whether the work is capable of articulating these thoughts without the explanation posted by its side. This work sets no bounds for the viewer’s interpretation–there is no horizon of expectation determined by the imagery of the work itself. Whatever reaction one may have in response to Friends and Enemies, whatever immediate interpretation one finds himself inclined towards, it must end there precisely with that un-mediated conceptualization. The work will not entertain the viewer’s understanding since it fails to guide the viewer’s fancy. Whatever narrative the viewer composes for himself to explain the work, the imagery in-and-of-itself will not respond with a boundary. One can imagine any scenario as the explanation – anything is a possibility. It is only through the ancillary explanation of the catalogue that an interpretative judgment can take form. Only through the text can a dialogue with the intention of the work be engaged.

Although a-contextuality is an important conceptual element for Moos and thus, a somewhat hyperbolic illustration of my point, this is work which is deeply symptomatic and demonstrative of a huge amount of conceptual art. Moos’ desire to implicate the viewer in the function of his own active, preconceived notions and prejudice must first be effected by the textual exposition- it seems only then can the imagery of the work of art be judged as an effective accomplice. Simply try explaining this work with out the accompanying wall text. What can be said? The only recourse a viewer has at his disposal is vulgar description. One can say: it’s ugly, beautiful, hairy, large, cosmic, rough, red, etc., but this is where the dialogue necessarily ends.

Holding the expectation that a work of art dialogues on its own terms anticipates several ambiguities about the nature of modern art. What can be asked fairly of the visual image? Is art only the illustration of an idea? What is the final demarcation between the modes of art, on the one hand, and polemic on the other?

The polemicist’s engagement with the highly charged issues and disputatious politics of a time is the inevitable consequence of the artist’s implication in the world of men; it is morality, plain and simple. In the history of art, polemic has been brought forth as a distinct endeavor, recognizable by its own unique characteristics. Equally, Art (with a capital ‘A’) is a necessary condition of man’s being in the world, but it is also something much more. Art in its highest function is symbolic of the universal. Art is the product of the artistic process and recognizable as distinct unto itself. It is a different kind of morality. Whether music, painting, sculpture, poetry, theater or dance, Art is born from the artist and consecrated culturally, as sacred.

This new conceptual art seems in many ways to unite an acute political-philosophical discourse with the universality of Art but in the clothes of the fine arts – in the space of the museum and gallery. Historically, the thoughts discoursed in the language of polemic have been unmistakable in their unique presentation and so, easy to judge on their own terms; which is to say, one evaluates the content of a rhetorical discourse with a different set of criteria than that used for Art. If the former were unclear or dissembled, the discourse simply failed; whereas the immediate political value of Art is impossible to appreciate.

In order to have value, culturally, Art–conceptual or not–must submit itself to popular criticism. In that discourse between the work and viewer, Art consummates its purpose; it takes its place in culture as a work of art. In order to judge fairly however, a viewer must know what he is being asked to evaluate. Listening to the language of the work -dialoguing directly with art is not only the way to avoid a clumsy conflation, but also the surest way to see the work of art for itself–as Art.

by Jacob Nyman, Contributing Writer