I agree, and thank heaven that it is. I'm glad there are people who appreciate what I create, and I'm glad that there are people who create things I can appreciate.
| A lot of what is called great art today was not in its day, it | has to stand the test of time to realy be called art.
In a certain sense I agree with this, but I can't fully. I suppose it matters whether one's personal definition of art requires a critical mass of appreciation substantial enough to ensure survival. True, in art collection circles one generally holds on to an obscure piece in the hope it will eventually become widely appreciated. But for my purposes, as both a producer and consumer of art, there is a much more personal aspect to art.
To qualify as art for me, something merely has to have an aesthetic component. Something has to appeal to the senses in a way that provokes an emotional response. Now there are certainly many things -- a Gaugin, for example -- that have nothing but an aesthetic intention. And there are things at the other end of the spectrum, such as architecture, in which we typically allow the functional aspect to dominate.
I'm in a "small clock" phase right now. The project plans for those are easy: Get a hunk of interesting wood, render it into an interesting shape, create an interesting and complimentary finish, gouge out an appropriately-sized hole with a Forstner, and tap in the pre-manufactured clock insert. The function of the clock is provided almost exclusively by the assembly provided by someone else; all I've done is arrange for that to be held at an appropriate height and angle.
Now there's an ulterior motive to that phase. As I posted some weeks ago, I'm trying to get finishing experience using techniques I've not previously tried. This lets me do that for a minimum of expense and effort, with the off chance that someone might actually be interested in the final product. My most eye-grabbing effort to date is simply what happened when I attacked a chunk of highly figured maple with a band saw, without even attempting to think of a design first. It looks like something from Dr. Seuss, and honestly it's not something I'd be proud to put on my own mantle, but a couple of people have complimented me on it.
Let's see, I had a point here. Where was it?
Oh, yes. Art can certainly be appreciated in its own time, as art. The reason I want to emphasize this is because I don't particularly like the implications of defining art in terms of widespread popular appeal. If you follow that, you get art that is unoffensive, bland, and ultimately unappealing. I believe -- and maybe it's just me -- that the only art that truly has the ability to soar is art that also has the ability to really make you retch.
I grew up in a family of architects. A couple of years ago I was performing a musical work in the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles and so had the opportunity to see the celebrated Frank Gehry design for Disney's theater going up across the street. Architects are polarized about Gehry. They either really like him or really hate him. His stuff is bold -- it
*makes* you either like it or hate it. I think most artists would rather hear that their stuff is unappealing than to hear that it's "interesting".
Where was that point again?
I'm looking at Krenov's stuff now. Some of it I like. Some of it I really hate. And if I saw him to his face, I'd tell him what I like and what I don't like. I'm sure there are people who love ever splinter that has come out of his shop, just as sure as I am that there are people who don't care about anything he's built. That's exactly as it should be.
You can build "safe" furniture or objets d'art according to an aesthetic which ensures popularity -- either in the here and now or according to a hundred-year-old tradition -- and you can be reasonably sure that your work will be well received. And if there is a business aspect to what you do, that may be very important. But *if* you're going to pursue woodworking as an art, then what you create has to be what you feel passionate about. Even if only one other person in the universe appreciates you for it.
--Jay