One cannot separate the art from the artist; they are deeply intertwined.
To understand why, consider this scenario:
We choose to study the films of Roman Polanski in-depth, without considering the fact that, while in his forties, the director raped a thirteen year old girl. On the surface, the argument is simple: we wish only to consider the art, the form of the films, the narrative content and the thematic subtext. We do not wish to get caught up in the personal life of the artist, however egregious his actions might have been, because such a line of inquiry is not relevant to a survey of the art itself.
But then, we should surely be able to teach a similar class on the visual art of Adolf Hitler, who was famously rejected from an art school years before overseeing the mass murder of more than 11 million innocent people. Of course, that would be impossible. With the weight that the name "Hitler" carries, how could one possibly teach a class on his art without addressing who he was and what he did? The only way, without constantly shushing anyone who dared to mention any aspect of his biography, would be to anonymize him, but even then the effort would prove futile in the end because surely a pupil would make the connection between the art and its source before long.
So, we can see this is a sort of slippery-slope situation: if we agree that it is permissible to study art while ignoring the artist behind it, then we also agree that it would be acceptable to teach a class about Hitler's art without addressing Hitler's actions, which would cloud the mind of any teacher or student bold enough to teach or take such a course. While it is perhaps possible for some students to consider Polanski’s art independent of his actions since he is not a universally known figure, few would argue that something similar could be done with Hitler, whose actions are so deeply and universally ingrained in the cultural knowledge of our times.
And since the magnitude of horrific actions is totally immeasurable — one might agree that Hitler's actions are hazily "worse" than those of Polanski, but as soon as a defensive stance needs to be taken up against a confirmed pedophilic rapist in order to dull the impact of his actions when compared with those of a genocidal maniac, the arbitrariness of "levels of atrocity" becomes apparent — we cannot possibly say that certain art can be ably separated from its artist while other art has "too evil" an artist for true mental separation to be feasible. Thus, we must accept the universal bond between art and artist.
This described line of logic is really just a symptom of the larger reason why it is necessary to study the artist alongside their art. We must not let the difficulty of grappling with an unseemly or horrific biography dissuade us from studying the art of horrible people, as doing so can surely inform us about the psyches of such individuals, and might lend perspectives to the masses that would otherwise only be possessed by those with the sort of mindsets that ultimately led Polanski and Hitler to their monstrous lines of action. We are missing something fundamental about the art if we remain ignorant of the artist's background.
No, we cannot separate the art from the artist, not ever. The two are tied innately together by an unbreakable bond, a bond that can terrify and teach us at the same time so long as we do not meekly ignore its existence for the sake of comfortable discourse.
To understand why, consider this scenario:
We choose to study the films of Roman Polanski in-depth, without considering the fact that, while in his forties, the director raped a thirteen year old girl. On the surface, the argument is simple: we wish only to consider the art, the form of the films, the narrative content and the thematic subtext. We do not wish to get caught up in the personal life of the artist, however egregious his actions might have been, because such a line of inquiry is not relevant to a survey of the art itself.
But then, we should surely be able to teach a similar class on the visual art of Adolf Hitler, who was famously rejected from an art school years before overseeing the mass murder of more than 11 million innocent people. Of course, that would be impossible. With the weight that the name "Hitler" carries, how could one possibly teach a class on his art without addressing who he was and what he did? The only way, without constantly shushing anyone who dared to mention any aspect of his biography, would be to anonymize him, but even then the effort would prove futile in the end because surely a pupil would make the connection between the art and its source before long.
So, we can see this is a sort of slippery-slope situation: if we agree that it is permissible to study art while ignoring the artist behind it, then we also agree that it would be acceptable to teach a class about Hitler's art without addressing Hitler's actions, which would cloud the mind of any teacher or student bold enough to teach or take such a course. While it is perhaps possible for some students to consider Polanski’s art independent of his actions since he is not a universally known figure, few would argue that something similar could be done with Hitler, whose actions are so deeply and universally ingrained in the cultural knowledge of our times.
And since the magnitude of horrific actions is totally immeasurable — one might agree that Hitler's actions are hazily "worse" than those of Polanski, but as soon as a defensive stance needs to be taken up against a confirmed pedophilic rapist in order to dull the impact of his actions when compared with those of a genocidal maniac, the arbitrariness of "levels of atrocity" becomes apparent — we cannot possibly say that certain art can be ably separated from its artist while other art has "too evil" an artist for true mental separation to be feasible. Thus, we must accept the universal bond between art and artist.
This described line of logic is really just a symptom of the larger reason why it is necessary to study the artist alongside their art. We must not let the difficulty of grappling with an unseemly or horrific biography dissuade us from studying the art of horrible people, as doing so can surely inform us about the psyches of such individuals, and might lend perspectives to the masses that would otherwise only be possessed by those with the sort of mindsets that ultimately led Polanski and Hitler to their monstrous lines of action. We are missing something fundamental about the art if we remain ignorant of the artist's background.
No, we cannot separate the art from the artist, not ever. The two are tied innately together by an unbreakable bond, a bond that can terrify and teach us at the same time so long as we do not meekly ignore its existence for the sake of comfortable discourse.
Either extreme in this debate of the separation of the art and the artist attempts to command me in how I should appreciate art. I reject these kinds of recommendations.
ReplyDeleteOne perspective on art is that the finished work of an artist is simply blank canvas for interpretation by the viewer. In the case of Polanski, he has PEDOPHILE watermarked in the corner of his movies, and this clearly holds importance for the interpretation of his work. But do you seek to invalidate every interpretation of any piece of art that ignores the artist? Do I need to bring a stack of biographies with me to the museum? I believe that, while specifically the art of Polanski and Hitler may be more valuable when analyzed in the context of their monstrous personalities, in general a rich personal interpretation of an art piece is possible without even knowing the name of the author.
Let's say I stumble upon a piece of art which I find incredibly evocative and profound. It changes my life. Then, I later realize that what I thought was art actually is an accidental ink smudge on the wall of the museum. I will not purge my valuable thoughts about the smudge in an act of interpretive bulimia simply because my assumptions about the author were thwarted. On the other hand, if I learn that Martin Luther King Jr. created the ink smudge on his death bed, the art will likely become more evocative and profound by including this context in my interpretation.
A single brush stroke on a piece of art might simply fill space, but sometimes that single brush stroke adds crucial meaning to the piece – so it is with the contribution of the artist. Part of the art of analysis is knowing which brush strokes to look at.