Black Bucket Essays
Volume 1, Issue 1
“The survival of my own ideas may not be as important as a condition I might create for others’ ideas to be realized. ”
- Mel Chin
Kristen Letts Kovak
I’m guilty of artistic hubris. When starting a new painting, I think, “Wow, this piece is going to be revolutionary!” Of course, I fall short of this expectation only to start another painting and make the same exclamation. The cycle is fueled by enthusiasm for an art historical conversation, not the belief that I will actually revolutionize it.
In this conversation, artworks of the past mingle with those of the present (Raphael, Harnett, Cézanne, Richter, Fish, Doig ...). Kenneth Burke equates multigenerational understanding to arriving at a party where the conversation has already started. After listening for a while, I decided to join in. Some of the original guests left and some new guests arrived. Eventually I too will leave the party, but the conversation will continue. 1 Perhaps my contributions will be entirely forgotten, but by attending the party, I help bridge the conversation for future contributors.
As an art professor I get to welcome some of the new arrivals to the party and when they first arrive, they inevitably ask, “What is art?”. What fascinates me most is not the question itself but the intensity and frequency with which it is asked. No one seems to answer it with logical certainty, but like a rite of passage, the new arrivals lead off step by step:
1: Become aware that you do not know how to define art.
2: Propose possible answers, i.e. self-expression, visualization of thought etc.
3: Recognize that the term “art” may not be universally definable.
4: Get frustrated that you spent time trying to answer an unanswerable question.
5: Declare said question to be irrelevant and passé.
6: Get metaphysical about the meaning of asking an unanswerable question.
7: Cascade into a rabbit hole of uncertainty.
8: Climb out by asserting what you believe is true about art.
9: Realize that you are passionate about your definition and therefore the question must not be irrelevant.
10: Begin cycle again.
In many fields of study, knowledge seems to progress more linearly, with each scholar trying to arrange a few more pieces in the puzzle. While the end picture may not be known, guests are all working towards a resolved image. But in art, we all show up to the party believing that we are progressing forward but knowing that we are only running circles around a track. We repeat the same questions and convince ourselves that our next artwork will break through the endless cycle. “Wow, this piece is going to be revolutionary!” Perhaps, it is delusional to work for centuries on a puzzle that cannot be resolved. Why run a race without an ending? I think that we keep going simply to pass the baton to the next runner who will trod the same ground, but perhaps with more flare.
1 “The Philosophy of Literary Form: Studies in Symbolic Action”
Volume 1, Issue 1
“The survival of my own ideas may not be as important as a condition I might create for others’ ideas to be realized. ”
- Mel Chin
Kristen Letts Kovak
I’m guilty of artistic hubris. When starting a new painting, I think, “Wow, this piece is going to be revolutionary!” Of course, I fall short of this expectation only to start another painting and make the same exclamation. The cycle is fueled by enthusiasm for an art historical conversation, not the belief that I will actually revolutionize it.
In this conversation, artworks of the past mingle with those of the present (Raphael, Harnett, Cézanne, Richter, Fish, Doig ...). Kenneth Burke equates multigenerational understanding to arriving at a party where the conversation has already started. After listening for a while, I decided to join in. Some of the original guests left and some new guests arrived. Eventually I too will leave the party, but the conversation will continue. 1 Perhaps my contributions will be entirely forgotten, but by attending the party, I help bridge the conversation for future contributors.
As an art professor I get to welcome some of the new arrivals to the party and when they first arrive, they inevitably ask, “What is art?”. What fascinates me most is not the question itself but the intensity and frequency with which it is asked. No one seems to answer it with logical certainty, but like a rite of passage, the new arrivals lead off step by step:
1: Become aware that you do not know how to define art.
2: Propose possible answers, i.e. self-expression, visualization of thought etc.
3: Recognize that the term “art” may not be universally definable.
4: Get frustrated that you spent time trying to answer an unanswerable question.
5: Declare said question to be irrelevant and passé.
6: Get metaphysical about the meaning of asking an unanswerable question.
7: Cascade into a rabbit hole of uncertainty.
8: Climb out by asserting what you believe is true about art.
9: Realize that you are passionate about your definition and therefore the question must not be irrelevant.
10: Begin cycle again.
In many fields of study, knowledge seems to progress more linearly, with each scholar trying to arrange a few more pieces in the puzzle. While the end picture may not be known, guests are all working towards a resolved image. But in art, we all show up to the party believing that we are progressing forward but knowing that we are only running circles around a track. We repeat the same questions and convince ourselves that our next artwork will break through the endless cycle. “Wow, this piece is going to be revolutionary!” Perhaps, it is delusional to work for centuries on a puzzle that cannot be resolved. Why run a race without an ending? I think that we keep going simply to pass the baton to the next runner who will trod the same ground, but perhaps with more flare.
1 “The Philosophy of Literary Form: Studies in Symbolic Action”
