What Makes Art Great?

Onement VI by Barnett Newman sold for $43.8 million dollars .Taken from here.

In a college class long forgotten I remember a final paper with the optional topic "What makes art great?" At the time I had absolutely zero concept of what makes art great, the question thoroughly stumped me, and despite picking a different writing prompt as to forego the laborious task of figuring it out, the question has stuck with me over the years. What does make art great? I'm still not quite sure. This blog post will be different from others because it will be an unedited exploration of the topic. This topic is less about actually identifying what makes art great as an objective statement, but is more so directed at illuminating my subconscious values projected on to the neutral medium of art. It is an endeavor to bring my subconscious to conscious awareness by putting in the work to understand myself at a deeper level while simultaneously explaining my thought processes for anyone who cares to read this.

This question came up recently for me because my current quest is to obtain a state of perpetual joy, in line with my newly created "Joy Theory" which you can read about here. While listening to my favorite philosophy podcast, the creator brought up the famous Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky and his views on beauty in his book "The Idiot," an exploration of what would occur if a Christ-like figure was actually among the average person. The topic of the book isn't important though, it's the author's views on beauty that stuck with me, the idea that "beauty will save the world."

There are a couple of quotes that stuck out to me that will be relevant in this conversation about art including expanding the conversation beyond physical art into the realm of the soul and how we can see ourselves and others as individual works of art. Dostoevsky's thoughts in the words of Stephen West (who is brilliant):

"Beauty and ethics, in other words, are far more connected than most modern people realize... [and] an interesting conclusion that he draws is that somebody's ability to spot beauty in the world and their ability to strive for beauty in their own character, these are really two skills for Dostoevsky that are incredibly linked together."

This says two important things to me. First, that the ability to see beauty in the external world is contingent upon how much beauty someone allows themselves to see in their internal world, a basic fact of psychology, the concept of projection. Projection, according to Google, is "a defense mechanism in psychology where a person unconsciously attributes their own thoughts, feelings, or motives to another person." In other words, like a projector, or art, we project our subconscious on to the neutral canvases outside of us whether they be living beings or inanimate objects. We judge others for how we judge ourselves and we praise others for what we praise in ourselves. We see in our external world what we see in our internal world, therefore, finding the beauty in ourselves allows us to see the beauty outside of ourselves. Second, beauty is a skill which means that the ability to see beauty can be cultivated, paralleling the ability of finding joy in Joy Theory.

Salvator Mundi by Leonardo Da Vinci, the most expensive painting ever sold ($450 million). Taken from here.

Dostoevsky highly valued truth, goodness, and beauty, but he didn't think that truth or goodness would save the world, probably two of the most common ideas of what would save the world. If I had been asked what would save the world before listening to this podcast, I definitely would've said one of the two or both. Here is Dostoevsky's argument in Stephen West's words:

"Well, think about what truth and goodness do that beauty doesn't. You try to show somebody the truth about something and if the truth is inconvenient to them or it's uncomfortable, they're likely to just deny the truth. ...The truth becomes antagonistic to people. ...Similarly when it comes to goodness, to show someone goodness and to have it show them that the way they're behaving is not good in some way, well, that becomes antagonistic as well like you're going around trying to moralize at people about their behavior. But if beauty is ultimately connected to these other two, but beauty isn't abstract or moralizing, nobody feels attacked when they're told that they can see more beauty in the world. And more than that beauty is something that just hits you viscerally. It has the power to make you feel love and awe towards people or things around you. It has the power to captivate someone at that immediate level. ...Beauty has the power to change you, it has the power to direct you towards a fuller understanding of how the world is connected, and it's in this sort of unique accessibility and redemptive power, it's in this way that Dostoevsky believes that beauty can save the world..."

Beauty is transformational. Think of the top five experiences you've ever had and how they've changed you: having a kid, getting married, achieving a lifelong goal, or whatever it is. I would bet that you didn't rank them as the top five experiences due to the truth they uncovered or the goodness you experienced, I would bet you chose them because they were beautiful in a way that fundamentally changed you. Truth and goodness don't change a person the way that beauty has the potential to do.

The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. Taken from here.

Based on these insights, I currently am biased towards beauty defining what makes art great. Before drawing preemptive conclusions, I want to explore other options. The options that come to the top of my head right now are: expertise/ talent, meaning, eliciting emotion (provided by a friend), and drawing out the subconscious (provided by a friend who is an artist). I imagine there are more possibilities, barring what I consider secondary reasons for greatness such as the prestige associated with owning it, but this is what I've got right now.

Expertise and talent are definitely important aspects of art, but they don't necessarily make art great. Take this red art piece made by the same person who created the blue art piece featured at the start of this post.

Vir Heroicus Sublimis by Barnett Newman. Taken from here.

At first glance, this looks like something that literally anyone could do. To be frank, it seems absurd that there is any talent at all in this art piece. Well, that's incorrect. Despite the seeming innocence of a simple red or blue painting (featured first), some people absolutely hated them, so much so that they destroyed many of his pieces, including this one. As the painter is dead, a team of experts were tasked with recreating the red painting... and they failed. They couldn't recreate the exact red pigmentation or sheen of the original artwork. Now while this doesn't necessarily equate to talent, it is impressive, even if unintentional. I would argue this equates to talent of some sort as it was not replicable, but this painting still isn't great to me. The additional information about the red color makes it more interesting, maybe impressive, but that doesn't change its greatness to me. It's a slightly cooler red blob, but it remains nothing special. Talent does help make great art, but it isn't a requirement.

So what about meaning? Take this painting for example, one that most people will instantly recognize, but most likely don't know the full history of. It's regarded as one of the most powerful anti-war paintings in history.

Guernica by Pablo Picasso. Taken from here.

If you paid attention in history class you would know that Picasso painted this after a war tragedy in Guernica, Spain. There is far more to this story. Guernica is a Basque town situated in Northern Spain. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Basque people (I am part Basque and read The Basque History of the World by Mark Kurlansky, hence this knowledge), they are an extremely unique people. First off, their language is completely unrelated to any other language in the world and they are thought to be one of the older civilizations on Earth. Second, they are fiercely independent and have a reputation for being indomitable; they have been conquered by only two civilizations in their long history, and that isn't for lack of trying. They are, to this day, trying to obtain increased autonomy from Spain.

Fast forward to 1937 when Germany was trying to enter Spain from France by passing through Basque territory and the Basque were doing what they do best, fighting for their land. The Germans were becoming frustrated at the amount of time it was taking for them to cross the region which they had anticipated would be simple based on their extreme military power against a seemingly innocuous guerrilla sub-nation. Guernica was a response to this frustration. 7,000 civilian townspeople and 3,000 refugees were crammed into the small town due to fighting going on elsewhere in the region when the Nazis bombed the hell out of their village. Although initial estimates were around 200 dead, people on the ground reported around 1,600 people dead and nearly 900 wounded, about 25% of the population, and the entire town was completely destroyed. Why Guernica? No one knows exactly but one of the best known symbols of the Basque country is a tree in Guernica that has come to stand for the liberties and rights of the Basque people at large. It would stand to reason that this was the cause. Ironically the tree was untouched in the bombing.

Now, does this knowledge make the painting "Guernica" any more great? Perhaps, once again, psychologically. The understanding that a people well known for defending their liberty were massacred in an attempt to yet again defend their liberty, this time from a regime that is commonly regarded as evil, making it a story of honor and standing up for freedom or even righteousness against evil. Or perhaps because a nation tried to systematically stamp out the symbol of hope of an entire culture and failed it takes on a meaning of resilience and hope. Or perhaps it's more beautiful because of the tragedy of innocent people not only being killed, but being intentionally targeted in war making it a meaningful piece against war or undue violence. I would personally argue that the knowledge of the painting's history does make it more interesting and valuable, but does that equate to the painting itself being greater or does it now just have richer meaning? I would argue the latter. I would assert that the painting is a symbol of something great, but that doesn't mean the painting itself is great when divested of its background information. Greatness to me is definitionally resonant, it triggers an affinity with the art itself, something that meaning can add to, but at least for myself resonance plays a larger role in what makes art great than meaning does.

The Starry Night by Van Gogh. Taken from here.

Resonance is based on emotion, or so I believe. The Starry Night by Van Gogh is easily one of the most famous paintings in the world because something about it resonates with people. When I look at the painting it makes me feel serene and it's visually captivating. It makes me feel pleasant emotions. But what about other paintings that elicit emotions?

Saturn Devouring His Son by Francisco Goya. Taken from here.

Mmmm... it certainly makes me feel something but I don't think the feeling is one I enjoy. Or what about this one?

Garfield Fan Art taken from here.

Yikes. Demon Garfield. Garfield art like this was actually introduced to me by the video essay "What the Internet did to Garfield" by Super Eyepatch Wolf, which I think is 100% worth watching. Really cool analysis of the Garfield comic as well as how the subconscious picks up on underlying themes without conscious recognition. Also John finally overcomes his internal demons which is nice to see. Nevertheless, the emotion I get from this artwork is also not one I would choose to engage with regularly.

But the question isn't if I would put it in my house, the question is whether or not any artwork that extracts an emotion automatically becomes great. On that note, what is the definition of greatness then? Should it be whether or not I actually want it around me? I definitely believe there is value in exposure to all kinds of things that create emotional reactivity, and in a sense that does make it great, but is it the kind of great I'm looking for? I would say yes and no. I would look for it as an experience, but I wouldn't put it in my house. So what does that say about greatness for me? I am going to take a second to think about this before continuing.

I think for me this elucidates the difference between value and greatness. Artwork that impacts me emotionally has value, but that doesn't make it great just like going on a diet has value but isn't great. The value is found in learning about myself and my intrinsic reactions, but greatness supersedes value. Greatness, to me, is value on crack.

So no, artwork that triggers an emotional response does not make it great, but it does make it valuable and meaningful. I agree that an emotional response is a prerequisite to greatness, but great art is transformational and mesmerizing. It speaks to the soul.

Enter the subconscious. From a particular lens I can see gaining self-awareness and knowledge as the sole condition of greatness, and with that definition any art that brings about a subconscious reaction that leads to self-knowledge is great. That definition just feels lacking to me. Again, that seems more like value to me than greatness. Greatness is transcendental when it comes to art, or at least art's potential is transcendental, which I'm finding to be my definition of greatness. Greatness to me is reserved as the zenith of how art can impact a person.

My definition of artistic greatness is:

• Resonant. It speaks to the soul.

• Deeply transformative.

• Beautiful.

• Meaningful, consciously or subconsciously. Conscious meaning can add to greatness.

• Teaches a person about their fundamental nature.

My standards have always been high and that has certainly remained consistent here. And, you know, I don't think I define a great person any differently. A great person's impact, a truly great person not just your amazing sibling or something, the Mother Teresa's, Ghandis, Christs, Mohammeds, Buddhas, saints, or Martin Luther Kings of the world, all tap into something greater than the average person, just like great art does. It's what makes them live on in infamy decades, centuries, or millennia after their death. A great person is rare just like great art is rare. And maybe that greatness comes from truly finding one's inner goodness and beauty first.