The Standards of Beauty in Contemporary
Art
When people try to define
concepts or establish principles in various disciplines and fields, their seemingly clear outlines disintegrate. Their boundaries disappear like
the edge of a dune, and their meanings move with the wind like sand as if “all
that is solid melts into air” (Berman). Art is in such a position. Perspectives on beauty vary widely; some view it as purely perceptual, while others, like Hegel, describe it as “the pure appearance of the idea to sense” (Hegel 54). This essay explores the diverse standards of "beauty" from different vantage points within contemporary art.
The most commonly accepted notion of beauty is that it is "pleasing to the eye." Burke describes beauty as "for the greater part, some quality in bodies acting mechanically upon the human mind by the intervention of the senses" (Burke 4), suggesting that beauty triggers an instinctive response, independent of our reasoning or will. As he puts it, "beauty demands no assistance from our reasoning; even the will is unconcerned; the appearance of beauty as effectually causes some degree of love in us, as the application of ice or fire produces the ideas of heat or cold" (Burke 3). Thus, beauty's definition can vary greatly among individuals. Graham notes, "whereas terms like red and green identify real properties of the apple, the term ‘beautiful’ says something about the person who uses it. This is the view embodied in the familiar saying that ‘beauty lies in the eye of the beholder'" (Graham 15). An individual's perception of beauty is shaped by their social context, personal experiences, and taste.
"Beauty" no longer has a solid, unifying principle, and "art" has become a borderless world. Socrates once asked Hippias to define beauty. The latter pointed out a beautiful woman, a beautiful horse, a beautiful harp, and beautiful earthenware. These answers did not satisfy Socrates, for he did not ask whether a particular thing was beautiful, but rather the principles by which we make aesthetic judgments (Angelo). Two thousand years later, Ludwig Wittgenstein discussed this dialogue and thought Socrates' request was unreasonable: people cannot define what beauty is by simple rules. It is only by experiencing beauty that people learn how to use the word “beautiful” in daily conversations. Wittgenstein makes the question tougher: “What is beauty?” becomes “Since beauty cannot be defined, how can people be sure that the word they have been using for a long time is not a false category? Is ‘beauty’ an ideological word? Is it possible to talk about art without prejudice” (Hagberg)? Defining art's beauty is elusive due to its diversity. While we can objectively judge a circle's roundness or a portrait's realism, beauty eludes such clear-cut criteria, influenced as it is by individual biases.
One aspect influencing people's judgment of art is the technical skill evident in a painting. While there's a distinction between asking "is this work of high quality?" and "is this work aesthetically pleasing?", the broad contemporary definition of "beauty" often leads to both high-quality and aesthetically pleasing works being labeled as "beautiful." Thus, if a work is skillfully executed, it is often deemed "beautiful." People might exclaim "beautiful" at the detailed realism in an oil painting, but what truly captivates them is the artist's exceptional technique. In essence, it's the artist's unique skill, not just the visual image, that garners admiration. On one hand, evaluating art based on skill is perhaps the most quantifiable aspect. However, the true skill in a work can sometimes be overlooked. As Roberts points out, “you have looked at something doesn’t mean that you have seen it. Just because something is available instantly to vision does not mean that it is available instantly to consciousness ” (Roberts 3). Furthermore, Gombrich notes, “we see selectively, and what we choose to see is influenced by context, by instinct, and by experience” (Tighe). This suggests that appreciating and analyzing the skill in art requires time and attention.
People ‘s standards, especially art historians ‘standards, are also affected by historical influence of an art piece. People tend to praise an artwork if it is historically important. Marcel Duchamp signed “R. Mutt” on a porcelain urinal and declared this readymade product "art," intending to break down the boundaries between art and life. However, he still relied on the gallery space to achieve his rebellion. Duchamp did not start a revolution, but chaos: he crowned the toilet in the palace of the old art system. Therefore a sense of superiority of art galleries was created: art has nothing to do with politics. This concept stems from a more superficial understanding of the self-deception that beauty has nothing to do with utility. The more radical the artworks are, the more they can only survive in the art gallery in the form of “sanctuary.” However, it is true that art and life are associated closely. Ernst Gombrich famously stated, "there really is no such thing as art” (Gombrich 601); there are merely individuals who tell stories, construct buildings, paint, and sing. The notion that art can only be 'appreciated' in certain places or created by specific groups is a restrictive view.
Since there is no absolute definition of "beautiful," the distinction between art and real life becomes blurred. Take Duchamp's "Fountain," a ready-made object, for example. People often describe it as "beautiful" due to its significant impact on the art world. While the value of "Fountain" is undeniable, it's important to recognize that its worth arises more from its historical influence in art rather than its intrinsic aesthetic appeal. Stripped of its historical context, "Fountain" is merely a commercially produced urinal. Art historians' inclusion of "Fountain" in art history (see Fig. 1) is not because it exemplifies a particular artistic style, but due to its historical "value" in the art narrative. The criteria for "value" in art history are multifaceted, encompassing not just the technical proficiency of a work but also its historical impact.
The most commonly accepted notion of beauty is that it is "pleasing to the eye." Burke describes beauty as "for the greater part, some quality in bodies acting mechanically upon the human mind by the intervention of the senses" (Burke 4), suggesting that beauty triggers an instinctive response, independent of our reasoning or will. As he puts it, "beauty demands no assistance from our reasoning; even the will is unconcerned; the appearance of beauty as effectually causes some degree of love in us, as the application of ice or fire produces the ideas of heat or cold" (Burke 3). Thus, beauty's definition can vary greatly among individuals. Graham notes, "whereas terms like red and green identify real properties of the apple, the term ‘beautiful’ says something about the person who uses it. This is the view embodied in the familiar saying that ‘beauty lies in the eye of the beholder'" (Graham 15). An individual's perception of beauty is shaped by their social context, personal experiences, and taste.
"Beauty" no longer has a solid, unifying principle, and "art" has become a borderless world. Socrates once asked Hippias to define beauty. The latter pointed out a beautiful woman, a beautiful horse, a beautiful harp, and beautiful earthenware. These answers did not satisfy Socrates, for he did not ask whether a particular thing was beautiful, but rather the principles by which we make aesthetic judgments (Angelo). Two thousand years later, Ludwig Wittgenstein discussed this dialogue and thought Socrates' request was unreasonable: people cannot define what beauty is by simple rules. It is only by experiencing beauty that people learn how to use the word “beautiful” in daily conversations. Wittgenstein makes the question tougher: “What is beauty?” becomes “Since beauty cannot be defined, how can people be sure that the word they have been using for a long time is not a false category? Is ‘beauty’ an ideological word? Is it possible to talk about art without prejudice” (Hagberg)? Defining art's beauty is elusive due to its diversity. While we can objectively judge a circle's roundness or a portrait's realism, beauty eludes such clear-cut criteria, influenced as it is by individual biases.
One aspect influencing people's judgment of art is the technical skill evident in a painting. While there's a distinction between asking "is this work of high quality?" and "is this work aesthetically pleasing?", the broad contemporary definition of "beauty" often leads to both high-quality and aesthetically pleasing works being labeled as "beautiful." Thus, if a work is skillfully executed, it is often deemed "beautiful." People might exclaim "beautiful" at the detailed realism in an oil painting, but what truly captivates them is the artist's exceptional technique. In essence, it's the artist's unique skill, not just the visual image, that garners admiration. On one hand, evaluating art based on skill is perhaps the most quantifiable aspect. However, the true skill in a work can sometimes be overlooked. As Roberts points out, “you have looked at something doesn’t mean that you have seen it. Just because something is available instantly to vision does not mean that it is available instantly to consciousness ” (Roberts 3). Furthermore, Gombrich notes, “we see selectively, and what we choose to see is influenced by context, by instinct, and by experience” (Tighe). This suggests that appreciating and analyzing the skill in art requires time and attention.
People ‘s standards, especially art historians ‘standards, are also affected by historical influence of an art piece. People tend to praise an artwork if it is historically important. Marcel Duchamp signed “R. Mutt” on a porcelain urinal and declared this readymade product "art," intending to break down the boundaries between art and life. However, he still relied on the gallery space to achieve his rebellion. Duchamp did not start a revolution, but chaos: he crowned the toilet in the palace of the old art system. Therefore a sense of superiority of art galleries was created: art has nothing to do with politics. This concept stems from a more superficial understanding of the self-deception that beauty has nothing to do with utility. The more radical the artworks are, the more they can only survive in the art gallery in the form of “sanctuary.” However, it is true that art and life are associated closely. Ernst Gombrich famously stated, "there really is no such thing as art” (Gombrich 601); there are merely individuals who tell stories, construct buildings, paint, and sing. The notion that art can only be 'appreciated' in certain places or created by specific groups is a restrictive view.
Since there is no absolute definition of "beautiful," the distinction between art and real life becomes blurred. Take Duchamp's "Fountain," a ready-made object, for example. People often describe it as "beautiful" due to its significant impact on the art world. While the value of "Fountain" is undeniable, it's important to recognize that its worth arises more from its historical influence in art rather than its intrinsic aesthetic appeal. Stripped of its historical context, "Fountain" is merely a commercially produced urinal. Art historians' inclusion of "Fountain" in art history (see Fig. 1) is not because it exemplifies a particular artistic style, but due to its historical "value" in the art narrative. The criteria for "value" in art history are multifaceted, encompassing not just the technical proficiency of a work but also its historical impact.
Fig.1. Fountain. Marcel Duchamp, 1917, Replica 1964, porcelain. Tate Gallery, London.
Further, people often use the term "beautiful" to commend novel creations. In the realm of contemporary art, viewers are encouraged to move beyond traditional queries like, “Is this art piece good?” or “Is it aesthetically pleasing?” Instead, they are prompted to consider if the art is “challenging” or “interesting.” This shift in perspective fosters a range of inspiring and creative artworks. However, it's crucial to note that while innovation is vital, "novelty" doesn't always equate to "progress." Being innovative means differing from what has come before, but art is as much about breaking old molds as it is about establishing new ones. For instance, the Renaissance revived art forms previously suppressed by religious norms to give rise to Neoclassicism. Impressionism, too, defied traditional painting rules to forge a new mode of representation. In the 21st century, art has continued to challenge existing concepts without necessarily establishing a definitive new form. Consequently, it can sometimes be challenging to discern what qualifies as "art" and what is merely an experiment in new artistic expression.
However, the diverse interpretations of "beauty" in art have inadvertently led to a proliferation of artists seeking shortcuts to recognition. Hughes critically observes that, despite its claimed rigor, this approach is deceptively simple, allowing almost any idea, no matter how trivial, to be considered as a potential work of art (Hughes 485). A notable example is Carl Andre’s "Equivalent VIII" (see Fig. 2), initially ridiculed by the English press upon its acquisition by the Tate Gallery but now regarded as a classic piece of its era (Hughes 467). A key distinction between Andre’s work and traditional artworks is its reliance on the museum setting for context and meaning. "Equivalent VIII" in a parking lot would be seen merely as bricks, whereas other artworks, even when misplaced, retain their artistic identity. This trend suggests that some nonrepresentational artworks rely heavily on accompanying manifestos for justification, with their value emerging more from interpretation than from the artwork itself.
However, the diverse interpretations of "beauty" in art have inadvertently led to a proliferation of artists seeking shortcuts to recognition. Hughes critically observes that, despite its claimed rigor, this approach is deceptively simple, allowing almost any idea, no matter how trivial, to be considered as a potential work of art (Hughes 485). A notable example is Carl Andre’s "Equivalent VIII" (see Fig. 2), initially ridiculed by the English press upon its acquisition by the Tate Gallery but now regarded as a classic piece of its era (Hughes 467). A key distinction between Andre’s work and traditional artworks is its reliance on the museum setting for context and meaning. "Equivalent VIII" in a parking lot would be seen merely as bricks, whereas other artworks, even when misplaced, retain their artistic identity. This trend suggests that some nonrepresentational artworks rely heavily on accompanying manifestos for justification, with their value emerging more from interpretation than from the artwork itself.
Fig.2. Equivalent VIII. Carl Andre, 1978, mixed
media. Tate Gallery, London.
In conclusion, while "beauty" can be interpreted in various ways, I believe that all standards of beauty inherently relate to a specific value. Gadamer suggests that "aesthetic
taste is
not purely subjective matter but something which claims universal assent
" (Graham 23). I see this "universal assent" as the "inherent value" of the work, a quality that resonates with everyone. Regardless of a piece's form, the audience seeks to understand the artist's intent and motivation behind it. Questions like “What is the purpose of this piece?” and “What drives the artist to create?” are central. Art created solely for the sake of beauty can result in superficiality. Artists are often told to “create art,” but true artistry comes from genuine motivation and impulse. This is why passionate artists like Vincent Van Gogh may be considered superior to technically proficient ones like William-Adolphe Bouguereau. Hughes argues that "
value rises from deep
in the work itself — from its vitality, its intrinsic qualities, its address to
the senses, intellect, and imagination" (Hughes 477). Echoing this sentiment, Nietzsche famously stated, "
of all that is
written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood. Write with
blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit” (23). Art becomes truly impactful when it connects to the life or emotions of its creator or to a broader context.
This fundamental standard helps mitigate the issue of indiscriminately lauding hastily made art. Take Rothko's works, for instance, which might appear "unskilled" at first glance. Yet, they are worthy of contemplation because they convey the artist's genuine message and serve as a conduit between the audience and the artist. Rothko himself articulated this, stating: “I am not an abstractionist… I am not interested in the relationships of color or form or anything else. … I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions… And if you, as you say, are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point” (Rothko).
Today, "beauty" encompasses a myriad of aspects. The absence of uniform principles renders beauty more akin to a spontaneous exclamation than a philosopher's defined term in daily discourse. The term "beautiful" could often be substituted with more precise adjectives like "skillful" or "creative". However, it's the expansive definition of beauty that blurs the lines between art and life, encouraging a diverse range of artistic creation. The assessment of beauty straddles the realms of logic and sensibility, with the variation in standards reflecting different approaches to art.
This fundamental standard helps mitigate the issue of indiscriminately lauding hastily made art. Take Rothko's works, for instance, which might appear "unskilled" at first glance. Yet, they are worthy of contemplation because they convey the artist's genuine message and serve as a conduit between the audience and the artist. Rothko himself articulated this, stating: “I am not an abstractionist… I am not interested in the relationships of color or form or anything else. … I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions… And if you, as you say, are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point” (Rothko).
Today, "beauty" encompasses a myriad of aspects. The absence of uniform principles renders beauty more akin to a spontaneous exclamation than a philosopher's defined term in daily discourse. The term "beautiful" could often be substituted with more precise adjectives like "skillful" or "creative". However, it's the expansive definition of beauty that blurs the lines between art and life, encouraging a diverse range of artistic creation. The assessment of beauty straddles the realms of logic and sensibility, with the variation in standards reflecting different approaches to art.