Mariyanthie Linaris
I have always considered myself to be very immersed in the arts; I sing, I danced for 15 years, I act, I partake in community theater like it is my job, and I generally love anything artistic. However, after dreading defining art for almost a week, I still find it pretty near impossible to “define” art.
When we hear the word art, a very conventional image comes to mind: probably a painting somewhere of a stiff looking woman with nothing really special about her. But still, more than five hundred years later, people are still arguing about whether or not this mundane looking woman is really smiling! So one must wonder: Is conventional art, like Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, the only category of art? Do masterful paintings of eighteenth century aristocrats and picturesque landscapes define the narrow margins by which we must decide if a work qualifies as art?
My automatic reaction to the definition of art was that any work that was created as a result of an emotional response and evokes an emotional response constitutes art. While I often rethink my first thought or impression, I experienced an unwavering confidence of my initial reaction. In addition, art should also allow for a degree of debate. And, of course, art does not only consist of the visual fine art genre; art is also music, dance, theater, and film. Therefore, art works like the Mona Lisa, Mozart’s symphonies, The Nutcracker and other classically beautiful works are not the only categories that meet the criteria.
I offer the dancing style of breakdancing as an example for this. Clearly, breakdancing strays very far from the classical style of dance; it lacks the pointed toes and elegance of ballet, but it still possesses the ability to tell a story and provoke thought. The same level of training and technique that goes into ballet also goes into breakdancing, however only the former is immediately regarded as art. The same applies to graffiti. We all see graffiti on the sides of buildings and simply brush it off as vandalism, all the while thinking to ourselves that those feral teenagers are at it again! So often, though, this is not the case. I remember seeing a patch of graffiti on a building that was made as a memorial to a loved one. This memorial, born out of grief, was not a result of some feral teenager whose wish was just to deface another’s property. Just looking at it made me feel the love the artist had for the person, as well as the pain of the loss. This art was promptly covered up, but it was still art nonetheless.
The graffiti was not immortalized, while so many other conventional art works are in museums and galleries. Since the museums and galleries decide what they will display, it seems as though they decide what will be immortalized, and therefore decide what the general public will regard as art. If a museum consists solely of eighteenth century portraits, people will only emulate that style and regard it as art. However, if a museum contains a vast array of styles, it becomes more difficult for a specific style to be shut out on the other side of the velvet rope.
The Brooklyn Museum accomplishes this plethora of styles. When I visited it, I observed traditional African art, furniture, eighteenth century portraits, as well as some more modern and abstract pieces. I saw a painting of a landscape, and there was no doubt in my mind that the painting was art. Conversely, I also saw an abstract painting titled “Everlasting Waterfall.” Its mere presence in the museum hinted to me that it was, and rightfully should be, considered art. It was unconventional in that it did not have a clear picture or meaning, but quite conventional in that it sparked quite the debate and conversation within my group. Anyone who tours Brooklyn Museum or any other museum like it would have a clear cut understanding that art is not just one thing or another, but a variety of many things. That kindergartener’s finger-painting? Art. That aspiring rapper’s verse? Art. That anime fan drawing? Art. Anything that is inspired or inspires? Art.
