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A Critical Review

“The Beautiful Language of My Century”: Reinventing the Language of Contestation in Postwar France, 1945-1968 by Tom McDonough

Tom McDonough’s “The Beautiful Language of My Century” at times reads like anarchist policy for art as revolution and the revolution of art. It is possible to imagine each of the five chapters as zine installments circulated discreetly between nonconformist peers. Topics include ritual iconoclasm, challenging the role of art in bourgeois society, art as social function, and physical appropriation of cultural property for the needs of the era. Obviously, there are parallels between punk rock and the situationist movement. Both share the belief that there is no “making do” in modern society and that it must be overthrown. Take for example the powerful photograph of student graffiti defacing a classical painting in the Sorbonne circa May 1968. The graffiti reads, “humanity will be happy only on the day when the last bureaucrat has been hanged with the guts of the last capitalist.” This image marks the beginning of the book thus introducing the Situationist International and setting the stage of the art-historical method of social history for insurgency in postwar France.

With admitted influence of October journalists Hal Foster and Benjamin Buchloh, McDonough has two intentions: to provide historical context to the development of French critical culture and to investigate the lineage of Situationist practice in present day art. His stance is clear and rational due in part to an extensive social-historical research linked to popular art theory such as semiotics and Marxism. Working to bring the reader quickly up to speed with the historical developments that lead to this period, noted Situationist Guy Debord plays a significant yet minor role in the book. Instead, McDonough chooses to focus on other artists and four modes of application including détournement, décollage, reciprocal readymades, and revolution as festival. In addition, his goal is to consider critical reviews at the height of the movement to demonstrate how it was received and who its audiences were.

In 1961 Jacques Villeglé and Raymond Hains exhibited their décollages—torn and ripped agitprop posters—at the exhibition titled in a play on words, “La France déchirée” (France in Shreds). McDonough digs up historical support from critical reviews and recollections from Villeglé to investigate the initial response after the show’s opening. In this light, critics viewed the work as a sarcastic prank lacking aesthetic composition. In discussing décollage, he asks a crucial question: “[H]ow does a close reading of these works and their reception complicate what has become a standard reading of the critical charge of décollage among available neo-avant-garde strategies?” According to McDonough, Hains’ displayed the posters in order to expose the Algerian war. Set in North Africa, it was a distant and unnamed war hidden and censored from the French public; it was not a ‘polite’ topic open for discussion. One critic stated, “I would prefer that the artist express more clearly his way of ‘seeing things.’” By not explicitly declaring his intentions, Hains left the viewer with a coded vagueness; it was up to them to utilize critical thinking for an analysis of the message. McDonough attributes this ambiguity for the reason why present day formalist and aesthetic readings overtake the intended socio-political meanings.

Under this notion, the most interesting of McDonough’s arguments is the Situationist role in one of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s earlier works, Wall of Oil Drums—Iron Curtain, rue Visconti, Paris (1962). He claims that the work is discussed today without a historical context and that current readings overlook its connection to the Algerian war. To support this claim, McDonough traces the evolution of the project from the proposal to the final manifestation. Starting with the wrapping of the military school—eliminating its façade—to the erection of a temporary barricade, this final development proposed to transform a street in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the intellectual center of Paris, into a momentary deadlock. McDonough links the brutal Paris massacre of Algerian protesters on October 17, 1961, the month that the proposal was created, on account of the understated presence of a poster urging citizens to vote “Oui” in support of the Gaullist party’s self-determination act.

On the contrary, the underlying purpose for the temporary wall was left unspecified. The only hint for the project’s meaning is the first proposal to wrap or conceal a political institution. McDonough reads this as the destruction of militarization. He also reads the final manifestation of the project as a commemoration to the Paris massacre, “…a massive barrier that insisted on its own physicality to summon forth an event that left no traces, that simply failed to register for the majority of the city’s French population.” Acknowledging the potential speculative nature of his claims, he explains how the choice of détournement as a language or mode is used in the proposal to set the tone. Is it mere coincidence that McDonough leaps to the Algerian war for inspiration? In a 2005 article, two years prior to the publication of this book, Hal Foster reads the political undertones of the temporary blockade as “a double reference to the new Berlin Wall and the old Paris barricades.” Just as McDonough considers the meaning of the artists’ subversive wrapping of objects, Foster agrees that it is the act of Situationist détournement. However, both Foster and McDonough are not saying that Christo is part of the Situationist movement; quite the opposite, he was a member of the nouveaux réalistes.

McDonough draws out from Hains and Christo the similarity of ambivalence for intent and mode. This is where the line blurs. While there is an overlapping of artists from the Situationist International and the nouveaux réalistes, both avant-garde groups utilized the appropriation of lowbrow commodity culture for negation—but for entirely different purposes. McDonough exemplifies Christo in relation to Hains to demonstrate successful use of détournement. Hains’ approach was to juxtaposition his décollage agitprop posters from the Parisian streets into the realm of the gallery. It left the obscure ruins of cultural policy to resonate with the viewer, but instead it was unseen and cast aside as sarcasm. Christo’s approach however took a critical role. By forcing the viewer to confront the barricade, it demanded awareness from the audience to consider the asserted policy of censorship in France. Interestingly, the final manifestation of the temporary wall was a guerrilla happening installed as street art. It stood for six hours before drawing attention from the authorities that demanded its removal. What McDonough is getting at is that art for the purpose of barricade is the form of true public intervention.

This concept of art as barricade, or the reciprocal readymade, is explored in the third chapter, which subscribes to Marcel Duchamp’s phrase “use a Rembrandt as an ironing board.” Hal Foster’s “anarchistic formula” of the reciprocal readymade is an institutional critique. It questions the role of art in the time of a changing society rejecting the culture of the museum, art-genius, and bourgeois ownership. The success of the original readymade relies on the destruction of art’s conventions; the reciprocal readymade takes it further by relying on art’s use and value for revolutionary practice. McDonough gives an account from 1963 of fifteen student revolutionaries stealing five modernist paintings from a museum in Caracas to barter for the return of political prisoners. Another account from 1849 tells of how Raphael’s Sistine Madonna was removed from the gallery and hung on the barricades to prevent gunfire and advances from the Prussian army. These acts interested the Situationists because they demonstrated how art is the pure and magnificent object to be marveled at. It has progressed to serve only social functions and was reconsidered as an object to become “a stake in politico-cultural struggle.”

Once again, McDonough utilizes Christo as an example. This time, however, his work is compared to Daniel Buren’s Il s’agit de voir (1968). In October 1968, Buren exhibited at the Galleria Apollinaire in Milan. He was offered a show by the owner and took it upon himself to subvert the invitation. What took place was a closing of the gallery, not by authorities but by the artist’s work. Buren’s brand of striped paper was glued to the glass doors completely sealing the entrance to the gallery. Rather than accepting the offer and exhibiting his work under the famed name of the artist, he wanted to break the perception of value for the art and the artist. Removing authorship transformed the work into art of action. It was the gallery space that was coded as inaccessible.

McDonough makes the assumption that Buren’s 1968 show was in response to Christo’s exhibition in 1963. He points out the similarities and differences between Buren and Christo and their two exhibitions. Prior to Buren’s barricade, Christo presented Pacco Monumento (1963), an enormous wrapped package of a monument placed inside the entrance, through the doors and to the right. The viewers were immediately confronted with the massive form obstructing their view and walkway. McDonough references Buren’s 1967 remark that “art is only packaging” as an awareness of Christo’s process and acknowledgment of their similar techniques. That being said, McDonough considers this a direct link to the response in his “closing” of the Galleria Apollinaire. As a reciprocal readymade, Buren’s underlying motivation was twofold. The art’s purpose of forbidding access to the gallery also forbade the viewer from removing it or harming it to enter. The viewer would have “no consolation on offer.” By making his art obsolete, they are required to seek “pleasure elsewhere.” Buren reinvented the reciprocal readymade through ritual iconoclasm: the destruction of his own art.

The last mode of Situationist method is revolution as festival. This chapter is rife with theory and, consequently is a more hypothetical argument for the challenge of revolution as an idealized object. It seeks to establish the alternative to the failing utopian ideals of commoditization of revolution as a degraded form of vacation. Situationists looked to the 1956 teenage riots on New Year’s Eve in Stockholm, Sweden. Guy Debord is called upon in this chapter for the “rediscovery of the real revolution.” The weakness of this chapter is the reliance on a broad cast of historians and theorists, such as Henri Lefebvre, in creating his argument. This chapter reads more like an anthropologic account of the youth uprising rather than an art-historical essay, which in my opinion makes it the weakest chapter for the entire debate.

Disappointingly, McDonough does not answer how French contemporary artists have interpreted these practices. He believes that détournement is the only survived mode of the Situationists integrated into contemporary practices. Reading more like a standalone essay, the last chapter explores this belief through analyzing the work of contemporary artist Pierre Huyghe. McDonough uses Huyghe as an example of a present day artist making use of Debord’s détournement into an applied practice. The primary work discussed is his body of work titled No Ghost Just a Shell involving a purchased copyrighted-character named AnnLee. The character is simply a computer rendering devoid of any discernible characteristics other than the anime style. It was originally intended for use in advertising commodity culture. By purchasing the character and appropriating it for his artistic creations, Huyghe references the illusion of real object in search of the pure object. AnnLee is without a purpose or story therefore the character is the opposite of uncanny; it is the exhausted uncanny. The character is only a shell or a representation.

McDonough claims that there have been many misreadings of Huyghe’s work with this character. For example, relational theorist Nicolas Bourriaud says that Huyghe is freeing and giving life to the character. On the other hand, McDonough argues that the No Ghost Just a Shell work is pure appropriation and re-adaption. He reinforces this with the artist’s remark in response to the misunderstanding, “Don’t make it romantic.” This digital avatar serves the purpose of détournement to the extreme point of commodity object. It is decontextualized to reflect pure objectification. McDonough’s use of Pierre Huyghe does not completely satisfy the investigation of how Situationist modes are presently applied. There are many questions of whether or not Huyghe is drawing directly from this method or if the author has chosen the project to retrofit his argument. It might better be suited with an inquiry into the work of the well-known street artist Banksy, which draws more parallels than Huyghe to the Situationist movement.

The book closes with chapter five immediately halting at the notes with no promise of a summary or conclusion. Therefore, it is up to the reader to resonate with the material. However, even without a conclusion, McDonough’s aim to investigate the inherited practice of Situationist methods is achieved, though somewhat indirectly. He is not tracing the legacy of the Situationist International, but rather using each artist as a case study for effectiveness. The genealogy ofpractice is then a byproduct of reading the book. McDonough merely presents the possibility of reading Situationist methodology in contemporary art. He explains in the introduction, “…[S]peaking ‘the beautiful language of my century’ entailed the refusal to simply transcend the hollow babble of spectacle culture and the determination, through black humor and joyous irony, to construct a language of negation out of fragments of the dominant discourse, out of the very depths of reification.”

If the sixties are seen as a time of transition into the culture of commodity, McDonough observes that those born in this period are the first generation of spectacle culture. Consequently, it can be said that the Situationists were catalysts to socio-political practices in art of today. Tom McDonough’s perspective on French Situationists is a breath of fresh air. He captivates the reader with historical accounts exploring the politico-artistic links from a different country and with a different historical view—a more activist innovation than Abstract Expressionism. (As a side note for lovers of nouvelle vague cinema, the author briefly links director Jean-Luc Godard’s Le Petit Soldat with the Situationists movement.) It is clear that the Situationist International is more than the society of the spectacle; it is rich with relevance to today.

    • #art history
    • #situationists
    • #france
    • #sixties
    • #postwar
    • #review
    • #books
  • 1 year ago
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What is Visual Studies in relation to art history and aesthetics?

Based on the readings, there is a resistance to introducing (or giving agency to) Visual Studies as the “new art history.” One of the main arguments is that Visual Studies is not historical, but anthropological. Since art history and aesthetics are pedigree, Visual Studies, as a hybrid offspring, is not. Aby Warburg’s methods are suddenly reconsidered for this emergent sub-genre or sub-discipline. This “new art history” trades formalisms, iconology/iconography, and social history for psychoanalysis, semiotics, identity, technology and globalism. Visual Studies is isolated or alienated from the “true” art history. Historians like Hal Foster and Rosalind Krauss oppose the transition because the shift is too general. Art historians ultimately fear a decline in literacy.

As Susan Buck-Morss says, “Visual culture, once a foreigner to the academy, has gotten its green card and is here to stay.” Most historians agree that a “critical analysis of the image as a social object” is necessary. This analysis should be both anthropological and sociological. This goes along with the question, Is the line between high art and mass culture still present? There is, of course, a paradox to Visual Studies: the viewing of art is defined solely by optical scope. If this is so, then it is believed that art plays only to the eye rather than to the mind and the senses. This is troubling because it excludes aesthetics and theory. Thomas Crow argues that Visual Studies is a modernist obsession with illusion. It can even be said that this spin-off is more of a scientific-based augmentation, which makes some art historians cringe—understandably so from their point of view.

This defensiveness and territorialness, according to W.J.T. Mitchell, is academically founded. It doesn’t welcome or encourage the emergent field of Visual Studies. He also states that the adopters of this new history haven’t come forth to defend appropriately as viable. Hence, Mitchell makes light of the fallacies against introducing Visual Studies and counters them with the example of his “showing seeing” exercise. “Showing Seeing: A Critique of Visual Culture” is reminiscent of C.P. Snow’s “two cultures” lamentation. Apparently, the divide within the humanities is gaping!

While Keith Moxey disagrees that (in an academic curriculum) Visual Studies is the obvious step towards the new global economy, he is inclined to recognize the emergent discipline because of its distinctiveness. He is interested in examining it for the production of art. To me, Visual Studies is like a Bauhaus. It is a sort of cosmology, an exploration of the origins of images in relation to art history and visual genres. (It’s called visual arts, isn’t it?) Rather than a post-structuralist or post-postmodern approach, it is a comprehensivist approach. Trading specialization for comprehension is necessary in this morphed society. But I am also left with questions about the usability of Visual Studies. I am fascinated by the Derridean idea that language is opaque; it doesn’t give access. How then would Visual Studies be used outside of academics? What does it mean to the curator? Does this mean that the museum is null and void? (A notion that is increasingly argued or believed.) It seems as though Visual Studies would require academic analysis in the form of an accompanied manual or user guide.

READINGS:

• “Nostalgia for the Real: The Troubled Relation of Art History to Visual Studies.” In Keith Moxey, The Practice of Persuasion: Paradox and Power in Art History (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2001), 103-123. • W. J. T. Mitchell, “Showing Seeing: A Critique of Visual Culture,” in Art History, Aesthetics, Visual Studies, ed. Michael Ann Holly and Keith Moxey (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 231-50. • Visual Culture Questionnaire, October 77 (Summer 1996): 25-70.

    • #art
    • #art history
    • #summary
    • #visual studies
    • #historiography
    • #gradschool
  • 1 year ago
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Virginia Mecklenburg & Modern Masters from the Smithsonian American Art Museum

I just got home from the opening night of Modern Masters at the Jepson Center for the Arts where I saw my first Philip Guston painting. The exhibition features forty four works from key players in modern American art such as Josef Albers, Hans Hofmann, Philip Guston, Jim Dine, Helen Frankenthaler, Franz Kline and more. Tonight was particularly special because the Smithsonian American Art Museum’s Senior Curator Virginia Mecklenburg presented a lecture highlighting the works with witty insight relating to post-war America.

In great form and with true charisma, Mecklenburg introduced each artist by saying that most photographs reveal the artist either with a cigarette in their hands (or between their lips) or with a beer glass by their side. This statement was, of course, followed by visual confirmation. While walking through the rooms, I noticed that the majority of the plaques featured quotes straight from the artists describing their experiences and aims-of-capture. After listening to Mecklenburg and walking through the exhibit, I believe that I experienced a great example of curatorial work with the artist’s intentions at heart.

I left Modern Masters with the following thoughts: • Once you’ve seen a work of art in person, it’s pointless to revisit it in a slide. • I would love to see Mecklenburg’s exhibition script! What does it look like? • Interesting framing choices by the collectors, which reflect the timeframe. • I love peeking at the sides to see the hardware and hanging methods.

“I am involved in a problem which by its very nature is insoluble. This is the never ending struggle to create the structure which by virtue of its anonymity may evolve in the viewer the possibility of sensing, however fleeting, some element for truth.” —John McLaughlin

I have one complaint: the lighting was so bright that the paint reflected it. You had to approach the work oftentimes at an angle. But that’s off my chest now. So, while these cannot compare to the real work, the following images are my favorite paintings from the exhibit. I can’t wait to see them again on my lunch break tomorrow!

Philip Guston, Painter III, 1960, oil on canvas 60 5/8 x 68 in., Smithsonian American Art Museum (via).

Hans Hofmann, Fermented Soil, 1965, oil on canvas 48 x 60 in., Smithsonian American Art Museum (via).

Franz Kline, Blueberry Eyes, 1959-1960, oil on paperboard 40 1/8 x 29 3/4 in., Smithsonian American Art Museum (via).

Joan Mitchell, My Landscape II, 1967, oil on canvas 103 x 71 1/2 in., Smithsonian American Art Museum (via).

A catalog/book of the exhibit can be be purchased here.

    • #art
    • #art history
    • #abstract expressionism
    • #gradschool
  • 1 year ago
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Statistics for the Visual Arts

The topic of discussion during this week’s Historiography of Art History class with Julia Walker is Identity and Exclusion. We first read Griselda Pollock and Tamar Garb, which lead to a long tangent about women (us, a class of 8 women) looking for careers in the visual arts and the state of the field of art history. But what does feminism have to do with art history? Well, it’s not about asking who the female counterpart of Michelangelo is. It’s about who’s represented and who’s in positions of power in the art world. In a patriarchal society, it’s pretty grim. It’s not that bad, but it’s… bad. Take a look at the statistics above, which were emailed to us afterward by our professor. In choosing radical change versus incremental change, what’s best? Most of us agree that we’re hesitant to label ourselves as feminists…

Yikes. Just a thought.
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Statistics for the Visual Arts

The topic of discussion during this week’s Historiography of Art History class with Julia Walker is Identity and Exclusion. We first read Griselda Pollock and Tamar Garb, which lead to a long tangent about women (us, a class of 8 women) looking for careers in the visual arts and the state of the field of art history. But what does feminism have to do with art history? Well, it’s not about asking who the female counterpart of Michelangelo is. It’s about who’s represented and who’s in positions of power in the art world. In a patriarchal society, it’s pretty grim. It’s not that bad, but it’s… bad. Take a look at the statistics above, which were emailed to us afterward by our professor. In choosing radical change versus incremental change, what’s best? Most of us agree that we’re hesitant to label ourselves as feminists…

Yikes. Just a thought.

Source: haveartwilltravel.org

    • #art
    • #art history
    • #feminism
    • #gender
    • #statistics
    • #visual arts
    • #women
    • #gradschool
  • 1 year ago
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Academic Biography

Though far removed from the discipline of Art History, my undergraduate education focused primarily on the study of graphic storytelling in Sunday strips, comic books, and graphic novels. I received my Bachelors of Fine Arts in Sequential Art, during which a four-year degree at SCAD stretched out into a nine-year journey. This journey was the result of a disruption when, after three years into the program, I left SCAD to pursue a professional career as a graphic designer in the commercial comic book industry. When I finally returned, I was burnt out on comics and unsure of my position in the field. However, I remembered how earlier on during the program I enjoyed Survey of Sequential Art in which we looked at the origins and development of sequential narratives.

Thus, I took advantage of the three remaining and required art history electives to explore a new interest. I first enrolled in 20th-Century Art History to freshen up on early Modern Art, then studied World Rock Art. My experience with Rock Art was uncommon. Rather than the typical classroom environment, I was fortunate to examine a number of Paleolithic sites firsthand while studying abroad in Provence, France. I visited La Grotte de Rouffignac, Les Grotte de Combarelles, and Font de Gaume in addition to privately operated caves and the celebrated Lascaux II. World Rock Art introduced me to scientific methods for identifying signs and determining chronological history, which directly correlated with my sequential studies. Before taking the class, I was unaware that, besides stylistic approaches, Art History could comprise both scientific and cultural significance. Even so, Art History relies on oral history and anthropology. This was an eye-opener; behind each work of art or artifact is a story.

The addition of culture and politics in relation to art attracted me to my last undergraduate class, Art Since 1945. The movements, ideologies, and dialogues of Contemporary Art offer a new approach, that of art criticism. Our culture is increasingly in flux, making it difficult to clarify a linear history, which is of particular interest to me. Plus, art is no longer archival—a paradox for art historians. Realizing this, “art of the now” is, oftentimes, without critical review and its significance is yet to be determined.

In 2007, I finally completed my B.F.A. I also developed a taste for Art History. I knew I wanted a master’s degree, but I spent two years weighing my options. While Art History prepares individuals for scholarly positions, I craved the business aspect of museum management while incorporating my professional sales experience at shopSCAD. Additionally, I had two stipulations: 1) my love of both science and art; and 2) my dream job of Arts Administrator for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s (NASA) permanent art collection.

My interest in NASA stems from the agency’s implementation of well-known artists’ interpretation of the early Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo missions to supplement historical documentation. NASA administrator James Webb launched the program in reaction to the lack of spirit in film and photographs. In keeping with Webb’s vision, I chose Arts Administration to explore interdisciplinary collaboration between science and art. This proposal of collaboration between the fields is also the basis of my graduate thesis paper, inspired by philosopher C.P. Snow’s 1959 lecture, The Two Cultures.

Suffice it to say, a deep-rooted interest in storytelling is the catalyst for my present day investigation into Art History. SCAD’s Arts Administration program is structured around public relations, marketing the arts, and fundraising and development for non-profit organizations. Legal Issues in the Arts is perhaps the most interesting class required in the program. In this class, I researched connoisseurship and authentication. Specifically, I focused my research on the work of Andy Warhol, whose mechanical process of making and reproduction diluted the very concept of authorship. I came to the conclusion that the importance of authorship has shifted and become less significant in certain cases of Contemporary Art History. I am extremely interested in how previous art theory informs or changes today’s art. Consequently, I chose Contemporary Art and Historiography of Art History to complement the business of art with the study of theory.

I believe that the field of Art History is a crucial component to exploring humanities and cultural heritage. Furthermore, my most valuable academic experience with the field is simply the process of learning how I learn about art. My curiosity with specific issues such as art law leads to a methodical approach to researching. On the other hand, research leads to my biggest weakness, which is subjectivity in writing about art. A look at the bigger picture in context guides me through this learning experience. I have especially discovered that I center my methodologies on intuition, context, trend forecasting, and ideas surrounding utopia and dystopia. I have recently begun employing psychological methods to analyze art. For instance, in my latest paper, SACHS v. KOONS, I researched Nicolas Bourriaud’s Relational Aesthetics and Claude Lévi-Strauss’ “bricolage” in The Savage Mind to explain how handmade aesthetics arouse a more engaging experience unlike that of the mechanically made art object.

All of these skills and methods contribute to my future pursuits and best-laid plans. Finding placement in a science-based organization with a background in the arts is my main career motivation. Over the last twelve years, it is clear that I am invested in the scientific and metaphysical study of art in relation to our cultural time capsule. I thrive on experiencing art; the art world is both my playground and my classroom. Examining art without seeing it in person (sometimes having to rely on descriptions from critical reviews) has inspired me to visit as many museums, galleries, and artist studios as possible. With a background in narratives and a specialized focus in science and art, I hope to either work at a prominent art museum, curate NASA’s art collection, or find employment managing the archives and exhibitions at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C.

Selected Bibliography
Artistic Ignition: The Aesthetics of Space Promotion (August 2009)
Everyone’s Gone to the Moon: Space Exploration in Contemporary Art (April 2009)
Newgrange: Folklore or Fact? (May 2007)
SACHS v. KOONS: Studio Practice and the Role of Assistants (May 2010)
‘There’s No Such Thing as an Authentic Warhol’: Disbanding the Warhol Authentication Board (November 2009)

    • #gradschool
    • #biography
    • #academic
    • #art history
    • #art
  • 1 year ago
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Reflective Summary: “The Future of Science… Is Art?”

In early 2008, Jonah Lehrer wrote an article “The Future of Science… Is Art?” stressing the need to integrate the arts into the field of scientific research. He eloquently argues that, in order to continue the search for absolute knowledge, “Science needs the arts.” For example, studies like physics and neuroscience can only go so far with explaining and imagining the intangible truths of our human existence. To put it simply, science is limited by its reductionist methodologies. It is only with the help of artistic interpretation that science can advance because, as Lehrer says, “This world of human experience is the world of the arts.”

While scientists test variables to determine fixed truths, artists explore the psyche through artistic expression; art historians theorize the intrinsic essence of art in relation to anthropology. Professionals in both science and the arts continually search for meaning by asking questions, experimenting, and communicating. Because of this commonality, Lehrer believes that art has the distinct ability to augment science. He also wrote a book, Proust Was a Neuroscientist, demonstrating how the arts have long anticipated breakthroughs in science. Therefore, scientists need to form a partnership with artists in order to realize our scope of existence.

This proposition of interdisciplinary collaboration for innovation is not new; many professionals share this notion and agree that partnership is a necessary development. Lehrer suggests that science institutions should offer artist residencies to encourage this collaboration and that art galleries, in turn, should branch out and show artists exploring scientific concepts. This cross-pollination would be a step in the right direction, but change is incremental. NASA employed their first artist-in-residence, Laurie Anderson, in 2003. This program quickly ended in 2005 when a federal bill passed prohibiting NASA to use funds for artists-in-residence. The agency hasn’t sponsored an artist since.

Laurie Anderson performing “The End of the Moon,” the result of her NASA residency (via).

There are organizations attempting to tackle the issue and involve artists in scientific dialogue. Take for instance, The Arts Catalyst, a nonprofit organization attempting to engage the arts with science by presenting projects that blend the disciplines. But there aren’t too many models in existence with similar explorations. There are artists working directly with scientists to complete projects and vice versa, but, to this day, a solution to the science-arts cultural divide is still nonexistent.

A display of Olafur Eliasson’s models at SFMOMA.

One particular artist working with scientists is Olafur Eliasson. Yet this partnership only suits Eliasson’s needs as an artist. Rather than collaborating, he employs scientists to assist with his creations. This isn’t a criticism of Eliasson’s work. On the contrary, it is a realization that art and science need to interact with each other on the same plane. How can this partnership be accomplished without an opportunistic outcome? Essentially, it is imperative for both disciplines to work closely with one another without using each other for one’s own purposes.

A vision of the four cultures (via).

In May 2009, the New York Academy of Science hosted a symposium, “A Dangerous Divide: The Two Cultures in the 21st Century” honoring C.P. Snow’s “two cultures” observation. The symposium focused primarily on the divide between the general public and the scientific community, demonstrating how Snow’s gap between science and the literary arts has grown (or grown apart) to include politics and the media. Perhaps the underlying concern is that science no longer connects with popular culture—a more bleak metamorphosis or predicament.

    • #science
    • #art
    • #neuroscience
    • #art history
    • #gradschool
    • #thesis
    • #two cultures
    • #summary
  • 1 year ago
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Portrait/Logo

About

Jumpsuits & Teleporters is a blog about art, science, technology, and cultural bricolage.

Author

Hi! My name is Whitney Dail. I am an emerging cultural worker, arts administrator, and STEM to STEAM advocate who was raised in the DC/MD area with two brothers, a computer technician and an architect, by a Naval aviator-engineer and artist-entrepreneur. I have a Master’s in Arts Administration from Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). My goal is to explore relationships between art, science, and technology through writing, curating, and contributing to multidisciplinary creative communities.

The image above was created by Jonathan Yoerger.

Contact

whitney.dail @ gmail.com

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    Love Letter to Plywood. By Tom Sachs

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