Cynthia Freeland

This is an excellent entry in the very short introductions series. Read this one instead of the art history one. It covers quite a bit of the same ground but provides more thoughtful and thought-provoking coverage.

The author provide clear and useful explanations of both classical, modern and post modern theories of art. I appreciate her ability to both give a fair presentation of ideas while challenging their validity.

While the theories presented are interesting and sometimes useful, show more personally I am more skeptical than her (and most of the theorists she discusses) of the “moral” or political value of art. Humans have and always will use art as a source of political power or economic exploitation or mass control. Trying to apply moral (good vs bad) or political (progressive vs fascist) categories is ultimately an exercise in futility and inevitably misleading. Nonetheless, human creativity is what defines our species, and authentic artistic expression will endure no matter what medium is used to express it. show less

A very easy to read overview of a few art theories (bad on Kant; okay on Hume; good on feminism/ritual theory), and Freeland's chosen theory is a solid one as far as it goes. She has Dewey's idea that art is somehow metonymic of a 'culture' and can be understood cognitively as well as emotionally or aesthetically institutional art theory's point that art is just what a community says art is.

But she never deals with the obvious objection: institutional art theory can only exist in modern and show more post-modern contexts. This is difficult to express without self-contradiction, I apologize: if art isn't cut off from everyday life (e.g., stained glass windows are set in the context of prayer rather than a museum), it makes no sense to have an institutional art theory. Now consider the social and cultural requirements for a theory of this kind, and ask yourself if this is the kind of art theory you want. Maybe it is, but maybe we want a theory that's more aspirational.

For instance, I'm worried about the effect that institutional art theory has on the future production of art: it seems to damn us to endless cycles of critique and recuperation, of shocks that are shocking for about fifteen seconds before they get commodified by those who have the money to tell the rest of us what art might be (and that includes 'shocks' like performance art that supposedly resists commodification, but in much the same way that tie-died T-shirts resisted commodification, i.e., not much). In this situation, Dewey's art is metonymic of culture bit suggests very little about our culture other than the fact that it's decadent, unimaginative, backward looking and slightly pathetic. And I'm pretty sure there's more going on than that.

Anyway, this is a thought-provoking book that you can read after lunch and before afternoon tea. show less

I began this book with moderately high hopes. They were quickly dashed, but partially redeemed in later chapters.

The one thing that this book, like pretty much any book purporting to offer some sort of explanation of art, does not do is problematize art. That is, nowhere does it discuss what distinguishes art from not-art. It considers several suggestions put forth by others, and briefly discusses what all art must have in common; but it finally accepts an expansive definition of art show more dependent upon intention, which is great as long as you know who the artist was and what they were thinking, but problematic when you don't. The reason for this is it's the only definition that can accommodate everything that anyone has ever called art (although I think it doesn't work very well with respect to Dada). But in doing so, it accepts that anything anyone has ever called art actually is art: which makes it useless for distinguishing, theoretically, between art and not-art. This is an important point because the amount of variation accepted as art will strongly affect the relevance and significance of different art theories. It is also an ironic point to find at the beginning of a book entitled Art Theory.

Anyway.

In the first chapter's discussion of Andres Serrano's "Piss Christ," so much is made of what the work is not, that I was left without a clear idea of what it is. The subsequent attempt to situate it within a long-term artistic tradition is disingenuous. I'm not saying it's not a work of art, just that this book does not make a convincing case.

Chapter 3 is basically an introductory anthropology unit on why ethnocentrism is bad. Chapter 4 is basically a lament of the influence of money and markets on art, without doing much to consider it dispassionately as one of art's many influences. It leaves a distinct sense that art should be pure and unsullied by crass worldly concerns. Chapter 5 considers the influence of artists' life experiences on their work, primarily looking at sexuality. It concludes that sometimes it is an important influence, and sometimes it's not. The final two chapters are actually fairly decent: the first of them is the most philosophical chapter in the book, and the latter takes a look at electronic art.

The book refers occasionally to literature and music as well as painting and photography, but I do not recall any discussion of architecture. This is disappointing because architecture is the most public art form.

All in all, it's not bad, but it's not particularly good, either. It takes a strictly academic-art perspective, but academics are only a small part of the art world. If I knew of a better intro to art theory, I'd recommend it. But I don't know of any others, at least not now. I found that in attempting to simplify the subject it oversimplified, making it seem too simple, too easy in parts. show less

A most accessible short introduction to not only art theory but also the philosophy of art and aesthetics, Cynthia Freeland’s approach is to provide historical and cultural context for the frequently asked question: “But is it art?” As a way of sharing some of the book’s content, below are several highlights:

In the chapter Blood and Beauty we are introduced to modern artists who use blood, piss and other bodily fluids to produce their artwork. The general public finds such works show more disgusting, as Andres Serrano’s Piss Christ made with the artist’s own urine and a wooden crucifix.

An expert art critic defends Serrano’s work citing 1) how the artist expertly employed a sophisticated but difficult process of photography (the work’s formal, material properties), 2) the artist is Catholic and part Honduran, part Afro-Cuban, with long traditions of blood and bodily fluids as part of religious rituals (the work’s content), and 3) how Serrano is part of a long Spanish tradition with artists such as Francisco Goya painting violent bloody scenes (this art is part of a tradition).

The author counters how we are now living in a modern secular world and the community of museumgoers is much different than a community of, say, medieval Catholics or the ancient Mayan culture. Personally, I agree – people today visit a museum or gallery to see something really worth seeing, works that are visually striking, imaginative and part of a rich artistic tradition; they don’t go to museums to be disgusted, insulted or degraded. So when people witness cans of shit and the like in an art museum and hear the work justified by such reasons noted above, they say: “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . but is it art, really?”


People today visit a museum or gallery to see something really worth seeing, works that are visually striking, imaginative and part of a rich artistic tradition.

Arthur Danto is cited as saying how in our modern world a work of art is an object that embodies a meaning. Thus, if in some way the art world sees meaning in an artist’s work, then that work is a work of art. Such a pluralist view helps us understand why artwork featuring piss and excrement or Andy Warhol Brillo Boxes or Damien Hirst’s dead shark are now accepted as art. Meanwhile, the average museumgoer listens to such theories and says: “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . but is it art, really?


Performance artist Milo Moire walks through a gallery nude holding a baby – her performance is her art. But many people ask: “Yeah, yeah yeah . . . but it is art, really?

In 1974, an American anthropologist encouraged members of a western Mexican tribe to stick with their own traditional symbols and not include such western images as Mickey Mouse and Automobiles. Over the last forty years this has become a real issue – the modern art collector wants “traditional” art from traditional tribespeople but those tribespeople frequently love to incorporate the modern world into their art. One of my favorite examples: a New Guinea shaman was leading a lively tribe ritual encircled by many Westerners with their cameras. The shaman was wearing a black Oakland Raiders T-shirt. Westerners asks if he could take off the T-shirt so they could photo a traditional ritual. The shaman refused as he was very proud of his Raiders T-shirt. Go black and silver!


New Guinea tribesman marching as part of an elaborate ritual. Notice the guy on the right with baseball cap, basketball shorts and white sneakers. Like it or not, we are now in one global world culture. Some might ask: “Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . but is it authentic traditional art, really?”

Although many museums have attempted to reach out to a wider audience, the typical profile of a museumgoer remains a person college educated and among the higher income brackets. Some cities and communities have moved beyond the confines of museums, displaying public art for all to see.


I’m proud to say my own city of Philadelphia is the city of murals, with nearly 4,000 - yes, that’s FOUR THOUSAND - murals throughout the city, created on the walls of commercial buildings or residences throughout the city, including all neighborhoods. A great way to make art a part of everybody’s everyday life.

Cynthia Freeland touches a number of other subjects that have triggered much debate over the last years and are even more pressing in our current world, topics such as gender and art in the digital age. Again, such an accessible and enjoyable book to read for anybody interested in the world of art. show less