Gold Monocle

Earlier in this class, we have focused on mediums and uses for art, but this week one notices a shift. An interesting topic that I thought was relevant to this week’s many resources was the role of the artist. An artist, or creator, plays an obviously important part in the manufacturing the work, but just as important is for whom the artist is creating for: the viewer. The idea of true art plays around this holy trinity of the artist, the viewer and the work of art itself. Firstly, the relationship between the artist and the viewer is defined by the communication. The communication, the heart of all relationships is the work of art itself. But what Roland Barthes believes is that once the artist creates something they “die”. The artist does not matter anymore because the art stands for itself now.

What I thought was the most interesting about Kiki Smith was the dark vagueness of her artwork. She creates dark, mysterious pieces that hint at morbid connotations, but leaves the rest up to interpretation. She, as an artist, creates the art and pushes it in a direction allowing the viewer to take it the rest of the way. Kiki Smith artfully designs holes that can be filled.

Another thing I found interesting was the way I went about learning about her. I have never seen any of Kiki Smith’s work before and I began by going through the interactive website. Viewing her works, very carefully categorized and explained, I imagined her work to have very dark, very dismal meaning. Her subjects, things like graphic and messy body parts, evoked an uncomfortable feeling. Then, I watched the Art:21 video and got to see the artist herself and her process and what she felt about her artwork, my view of her work changed dramatically. I had imagined her as this grizzled old woman who hated everyone and only wanted to draw dead animals, or something, and yet she is this outgoing woman who makes her art not to shock or horrify people. Kiki Smith begins with an idea and lets other people establish their own meaning.

But does that mean she is dead? If I did not know about Kiki Smith and only let the artwork speak for itself, would I interpret it differently than how I would if I knew where she was coming from or what she was trying to say?

Our speaker this week also mentioned an interesting topic of the piece standing by itself. She mentioned the rolled up snow balls transported from I think it was Scotland and how they happened to be placed in front of the BP headquarters in London. It was assumed that the snowballs were placed to form a political comment about the melting icecaps and global crisis. It turned out, however, that this was not the artist intention at all. He just wanted to observe this natural process and enjoy its aesthetics. So does the artist matter in this scenario? He did not intend for the snowball to have political meaning, but most viewers took it that way due to the context provided. The meaning of the piece changes drastically with or without the artist’s intentions. Does Roland Barthe’s thesis apply here?

In William Kentridge’s work, the content is very social and political, generally stemming from his home country South Africa dealing with the apartheid and other social events. As an American viewer, one needs to be aware, in order to appreciate the political depth of his work, of William Kentridge’s background. You cannot really understand the connotations if you, like most of us and myself included, are not very aware of the political and social reactions to events like the apartheid. So does Roland Barthe’s thesis apply here either? Without the artist and the artist’s history, the viewer would not get the full story and could not fully appreciate the artwork.

So, in the end, Roland Barthe brings up an interesting topic: once the artwork is created, does the artist die? Does the artist even matter anymore? I think it does, but to a certain extent. The artist must create the work and present it in a context. This context is just as important as the artwork itself, I believe, as it helps direct the viewer to understanding the piece as part of a larger picture.

An example of art needing context, needing the artist to help explain, is the work of Marina Abramović. Last May in 2010, I visited the MOMA and saw her work, especially The Artist is Present, in which she sat at a table and museum-goers could sit down across from her and stare at her. It was all very intense and confusing for me, because I had never really been exposed to performance art before and this was definitely performance art at its peak. But what really struck me was her Balkan Erotic Epic, which, without context is very confusing. It features Balkan tradition ceremonies of women running around a field, lifting up their dresses and men humping the ground. I was very very confused until I read those convenient little placards. Apparently, these are ceremonies involving rain and the crop. If it rains too much and the crops were flooding, the women would lift their skirts to the rain, asking it to stop. If the crops were not growing or the food was not plentiful, the men would lay on the ground naked and essentially hump the ground. As you can see, context is very important in this case, as is the artist's Balkan history.