A good photograph/photographer or work of art/artist you don't like . . .

<p>Give me an example of a specific art historian's, or art critic's, or museum curator's, or artist's evaluation of a specific work of art that is not an opinion.</p>

<p>And if you make this a popularity contest (the weight of opinion >> as if lots of opinions stop being opinion), you lose the leading edge of art throughout history.</p>

<p>This is not science -- proven by measurement. There is no art-o-meter.</p>

<p><em>Art is all about response -- which can only be verbalized as an opinion.</em></p>

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<p>Give me an example of a specific art historian's, or art critic's, or museum curator's, or artist's evaluation of a specific work of art that is not an opinion.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>No. </p>

<p>___________________</p>

 

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<p><em>Art is all about response.</em></p>

</blockquote>

<p>No, it's not all about response. It's also about the making. It's about craft. It's about beauty. It's about communication. It's about input at least as much as response. Need I really go on?</p>

<p>Part of art being art is its historical importance. While that may start out as a collection of opinions, over time it transcands the opinion. And/but like our opinions, it can evolve. Modern art might be more fluid in this sense, but one gallery promoting a new wave does not make it art either - it has to be a seriously big wave sparking interest of many.<br>

Each art historian, curator or critic can and should have his/her own individual opinion. The point is: it's not their individual opinion that does the work. It's their collective-over-time-median-opinion, as well as the en-vogue-today-collective opinion. Maybe an oligarchic and little transparent process, but it happens. It's beyond opinions. <br>

True, nothing scientific and measurable, but to attribute all to being individual opinion is equally unscientific and unmeasured - except for the remarkable fact of how many opinions happen to agree on some works being art and some artists being great.<br>

____<br>

John, I disagree that liking or disliking does not matter, and that we should primarily look at the famous photographers for the role they played and for the development we see in photography. There is room for both, and there not mutually exclusive.<br>

You can arrive at a point where - despite of, or because of trying to appreciate - you simply dislike the work. That does not mean saying it is historical irrelevant, nor that you cannot learn from it. In fact, I argued earlier on that one might even learn more from the process of building a proper opinion on the fact that you dislike a famous photographer's work - because you have to articulate. Liking a master is easy - nobody will seriously contest you. Disliking a master, you'll have to explain. As Matt said, some people will act like you're crazy for not liking the "accepted" masterpiece. <br>

Learning why not a famous work does not move you, as it does for millions of other, is enlightning.</p>

<p>Julie speaks as if there are two choices here. Art is either Julie's opinion (or any individual's opinion) . . . OR . . . some sort of science with a determinative art-o-meter.</p>

<p>Could there be something in between those two extremes? Something a little more objective and shared than one person's opinion and something a little less stringent and specific than a scientific art-on/art-off meter?</p>

<p>I hope so.</p>

<p>[sorry, Wouter, we posted simultaneously.]</p>

<p>I am aware that my verbose post was confusing about the statements which were really important to me.</p>

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<p><strong>Fred</strong> - I disagree. There are a great many painters and dancers who practice, practice, practice, work very hard at it, and aren't any good. Some simply don't have the ability, no matter how hard they try.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Correct. But my key statement was in the first part of the paragraph "<em>As a matter of principle, the photographs of a renown photographer cannot be "not good", simply because somebody who is renown puts his or her main effort into producing photography</em>". And when I quoted the painters and dancers, in the back of my mind I had "the renown ones".<br /> _____________________</p>

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<p><strong>Fred</strong> - But having the right to be different from everyone else (or the vast majority of viewers and experts), for me, comes with some humility and tension as well as confidence and personal commitment. For me, a kind of tension comes with the territory of individuality, especially when that individuality brings me in discord with, as Luis puts it, connoisseurs. It's a tension which energizes me. I love the "heretic" metaphor precisely because there is discomfort in it. Does everything we do or say, everything we like and dislike, every opinion we offer have to be so damned easy and so damned certain, so damed acceptable, and so damned OK because it's <em>mine</em>?</p>

</blockquote>

<p>It's a matter of wording. I would not use the term "humility" simply because in my cultural background it has a specific and unsuitable meaning. I would rather say readiness to use all my background knowledge to understand what I see and openness to recognize, accept and welcome the new I see. Which implies the recognition of what I know.<br /> But blunt self-awareness I see as one of the highest barriers to openness and innovation, so nothing can be worse than the "so damned OK because it's mine"-attitude. In my opinion.<br /> ______________________</p>

<blockquote>

<p><strong>Fred </strong>- Yes. There are two levels here. One is not "getting" it. The second is getting it and still not liking it. I experience both feelings at times. I would suggest that sometimes "getting it" is much more than a matter of learning. One can learn a whole lot but without being able to empathize with the photographer in question. There will be a million reasons for a lack of empathy, often circumstantial rather than anything being wrong with the viewer. The "getting it" may never take place. As regards learning, there are certain things that are much harder to learn and, indeed, not as well understood by even the best of learners. Some mathematicians are much more fluent in geometry than algebra, even with a lot of study. The same would be true of photographers, for whatever reasons. I don't think I can "get" every photographer by learning. I don't claim to be able to "get" every photographer, for a variety of reasons, often my own level of exposure, my own level of experience and worldliness.</p>

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<p>I would say that the levels are more: "<em>not getting it</em>", "<em>thinking to get it, but actually not getting it</em>", "<em>openly studying it and getting it</em>", then paired with <em>recognising </em>on the one hand and <em>liking </em>on the other.<br /> Getting back to my concept of "<em>learning photographic languages</em>" I still believe that it is possible to "get" most of the photographers, of course not limiting the analysis to the visual, but using anthropological, psychological, philosophical instruments, and why not, also technical ones, to learn the photographic language and to "get it".<br /> ______________________</p>

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<p><strong>Fred </strong>- It's not that <em>somebody</em> has <em>decreed</em> anything. Renowned photographs, or what are generally viewed as great works of art, are not decreed to be so by any one person. There is usually general agreement (Luis used an important word in aesthetics and art, consensus) among a group of critics and peers.</p>

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<p>I disagree. Of course there individual trendsetters. Denying this would mean denying the mechanisms of modern society. Of course there is consensus, but before that trends are set. And these trends can very well be set by individuals. Think of Eggleston's breakthrough with colour photography. It was the merit of John Szarkowski, apparently against the general opinion of the "group of critics and peers", who still thought that "serious photography" had to be in black and white.<br>

______________________<br /> But I agree with</p>

<blockquote>

<p><strong>Fred</strong> - And this agreement often evolves over time and gets into the dominant psychology of an era or age. It's not so much decreed, not as if a new aesthetic law had been made. It is often a slow and evolutionary process, determined by many intersecting and interweaving factors and circumstances.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>except that probably there are many more than one "dominant psychology of an era or age". And I agree that the process can be slow, but it also can be fast.<br /> We have to accept the potential non-linearity of everything based on human interaction, as well as the "normative Kraft des Faktischen" (the normative power of the factual).<br /> _____________________<br /> But my main point of my - again, far too verbose - post was about the photographic language created by some photographers to express their photographic vision and to conceive a visual message. And I still believe that these languages can be learnt and the message "got".</p>

<p>Luca, I understand what you mean by a visual language and, like you, think it's important. Beyond each individual photographer's language, I think there is a language of photography. That photographic language has been developed historically and each of us participates in it (whether we know it or not and whether we admit to it or not). This language is passed on from photographer to photographer and from generation to generation, from school to school. So we inherit such a language and also individuate it. Good photographers internalize the language and develop their own voice, adding their own idioms and accents.</p>

<p>I'm not sure what your point is about "learning photographic languages" relative to the question of this thread. I've heard some very well-schooled and experienced photographers talk about Adams negatively in very much the same way as each other. They seem to recognize that he's an artist but just don't like his work. That's likely not to change with more learning of his language. Actually, there's much about Adams's language to learn. The zone system takes dedicated study. I would say the more one learns Adams's language the more one can separate his craft from the other aspects of his art that many find so wanting. In other words, I don't think learning is a cure-all for the "heretic" who doesn't like Adams. And, while I think the idea of photographic language is an important one, I don't know that it will necessarily bring that heretic into line.</p>

<p>Most critics actually cite examples and use other precedents to explain their opinion and often those positions that may be in opposition to their own as well. The idea is to create a sense of context and to use that to explain one's position and contrast it with others. Those critiques we read that are only opinion, without establishing a case for the position, are generally worthless and wouldn't be considered good criticism in most cases. Certainly, there are works that are reviewed that may not be worth the time or worthy of the effort, but good critics rarely review that sort of work--even if they do see it.</p>

<p>My point about like and dislike isn't that one can't have those feelings but more that, in particular, dislike just takes a lot of energy and, like any negative, is a constant sapping of that energy. I think that a determination of "dislike" also can create a block to further learning and investigation. I don't know what purpose it serves to dislike something or what benefit it yields. </p>

<p>I think the original set up Fred did here is important as I don't think he described "dislike" at all. I also think most really have talked about a "lack of interest in" rather than a "dislike for" something. It may also be a lack of affinity for it rather than even a lack of interest. For instance, I have seen Fred use Avedon and his photos on many occasions to prove his point about something where they were used as positives. There is maybe a lack of interest on one level but also a respect and recognition of the work's significance on another--that is not dislike or even disinterest.</p>

<p>I don't "get" a lot of the art I see but I don't know that I actually use the word or have a feeling of "dislike" for any of it--WTF is often more like it which generally makes me more interested. After exploring the work, I often am still in a WTF mode and may end up being indifferent to it, but I don't know that I get to a point of dislike. Certainly, there is work that I have no interest at all in but that is generally not the work of great artists and it isn't that I don't like it, I just am not interested in it. </p>

<p>I probably used to feel more that way, disliking this or that, but I don't know to what end it really served. I studied with Adams on a couple of occasions and was a guest in his house, I thought he was a great guy, but I don't go to exhibitions of his work anymore except if it is more a social outing. I don't dislike the work, but it doesn't inspire me like it once did. And I am sure what I learned from him and his work continues to be useful.</p>

<p>I mentioned Struth above. I know I don't fully, or maybe even, appreciate his work but if there were a show of it somewhere I could get to without spending an arm and a leg, I would be there right now. If I "disliked" the work, I wouldn't feel that way, I would be closed to it. After seeing it, I might still not get it but I don't think that it would become dislike. I might feel it was irrelevant to me at that point and lose interest--at least for awhile--or I might try to look for more sources that could help me get it. But one never knows where or when what I did learn about it might not pop up. Disliking something generally wouldn't allow for an open ended response.</p>

<p>Is there really that much dislike here or is it just currently a lack of interest, indifference or relevance?</p>

<p><strong>Fred</strong>,<br>

I agree with your distinction between "photographic language" and the "language of photography".</p>

<p>This post is about "A good photograph/photographer or work of art/artist you don't like . . .".</p>

<p>I thought in first instance of "good photographers" and their photos, and I came to the conclusion that before relating these photos to my own personal elements of reference, those which make me say "I like it/I do not like it", I need to understand the photographers vision, approach, creativity, purpose, and craft.</p>

<p>The language of photography, as you say, is the result of the historical development, passed on from photographer to photographer and from generation to generation, from school to school.</p>

<p>When good photographers internalise this language and develop their own voice, they add their own idioms and accents, and even more, it seems to me that they can develop their own grammar and syntax: their personal photographic language.</p>

<p>Your distinction between the language of photography and the photographic language is extremely appropriate, since first I need to understand the language of photography, then I need to learn the specific photographic language of the photographer I am considering. Once I have managed to achieve this in some way or another, I am capable of concluding the process deciding whether I like or not.</p>

<p>It seems to me that this line of thinking is quite pertinent to your question, since it affects the way good photographers are observed and considered. It is an open way to face photographic work with a careful and attentive eye.</p>

<p>When I just stumbled upon this thread I thought that I would be a total heretic (at least around here on photo.net) if I would mention Ansel Adams. But no - his name was brought up already a couple of times...<br>

Perhaps the reason is that I do not really appreciate technical perfection in a photograph as the most important factor. For me it is really subordinate to other elements of a photograph - like e.g. composition as in HCB or some of Ralph Gibson's work which I admire..</p>

<p>If I don't like their work, they're not any good.</p>

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<p>Holy schlamoley.</p>

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<p>Good point Matt. I find myself scratching my head and uttering that incantation with a lot of photography and art. I am a lover/hater of architecture. Love to shoot it, but most often wish for everyone's sake it was left unbuilt. <br /> That some art needs explaining for us to <em>get it</em> disturbs me but a good critical piece is often way better than the art. It answers the "what were they thinking!?" question.</p>

<p>Science, too, is full of opinions. Mention any major subject in science, things like global warming, the end of the dinosaurs, gravity, time, matter, consciousness, God, etc., and there are heaps of opinions. Looked at over time, scientists change their mind, argue, and shuffle opinions like a tabletop magician in Vegas.</p>

<p>The contrast between the individual and the fields he is associated with is neither good nor bad. Think of it as the outcome of conceptual mutations that drive the evolution of ideas.</p>

<p>Not to downplay it in any way, but measurement is not as definitive as many think. They still have to be interpreted. We've had the measurements from the particle/wave experiments with photons over 100 years, and we're still not sure what they mean, though there are schools and opinions galore. The things backed up by data that we think are totally conclusive often aren't. About fifteen years ago, those who place too much faith in what we think we know were openly stating that we were nearing the point where there was little more to know. The measurements were in, the big shots were getting smug, and then we realized that everything we knew was at best about 5% of the <em>known </em>universe.</p>

<p>http://science.nasa.gov/astrophysics/focus-areas/what-is-dark-energy/</p>

<p>Human faculties, including opinions, are equally valuable in all fields. Ever hear a guy with a Doctorate in a white lab coat hovering over someone in direst straits giving his medical <em>opinion</em>? It will likely happen to you and everyone you know.</p>

<p>Art is not all about <em>one thing, </em>as appealing as the monad thing is to many. Art is about many things, and they all matter.</p>

<p>I appreciate any individual's ideas, but when those claims extend into the entire universe of art, and specially when they're lossy ideas, I have to think about the relative values between what we'd lose vs what is to be gained.</p>

<p><strong>John A - "</strong>My point about like and dislike isn't that one can't have those feelings but more that, in particular, dislike just takes a lot of energy and, like any negative, is a constant sapping of that energy. I think that a determination of "dislike" also can create a block to further learning and investigation. I don't know what purpose it serves to dislike something or what benefit it yields."</p>

<p>I believe that's a misunderstanding of what Fred was saying in the OP. Using my own example, I have gone to see several Gursky exhibits, spent loads of time there (several visits), read reams of books and articles listened to curatorial lectures, etc. I get Gursky, understand his history, method, ideas, appreciate and enjoy him intellectually, etc. But the work does not move me. I have no problem with holding apparently paradoxical ideas in my head. Other than realizing I don't want to own all but a very few Gurskys, I've not given that a moment's thought since, until this post. Benefits? The realization of my own personal energies and expressing them. I am not neutral, unlike John A. or Luca A. R.</p>

<p> </p>

<p><strong>Luis</strong>,<br>

I am not neutral at all. I just try to keep the "liking" and "recognition" levels separate.<br>

Of course at some point in time I reunite them. And so there are photographs of renown photographers I like, and others which I do not like.<br>

As an economist (dealing with the "dismal science") I am absolutely aware of the opinions even there.<br>

And then there is another point: since (my conception of) photography has a major focus on human beings, I find it absolutely impossible to keep taste and opinions out of the way.<br>

I am also aware that measurement is not definitive at all. ;-)</p>

<p>If you want to really <em>see</em> pictures read art crit. Done well, it follows objective rules of engagement with the subject. I would say that it is never: "This is <em>why</em> this art is good." That is for history scholars.<br>

There are trends in criticism like everything else. Stress on the formal aspects of art which can be more easily assessed objectively have given over to various more complex ways of assessment. That is why this "get it but don't like it" topic is good. <br>

Critics also write, it often seems, for other critics - a major put-off for most of us.</p>

<p>Thanks, Luis. I was having trouble responding to Luca and John and I think you've summarized things nicely, especially about holding various ideas in your head at once or feeling contradictory feelings simultaneously. I'll take a stab at my own response.</p>

<p>I don't feel as though I "determine" like and dislike, especially at first. It just seems to happen. And I don't think it "serves an end" either. Not everything I do or feel has a useful end or is under my control. I don't know what use it serves that I don't like tomatoes, but I don't. Dislike doesn't take much energy for me. Liking seems to take more energy because I want to continue liking and looking at what I like. Dislike seems to stake my ground and allow me to move on. Of course, I can change my mind<br /> . . . and have over the years.</p>

<p>John, you're right. I have used Avedon to exemplify ideas at times precisely because I respect him and recognize his significance, especially related to some of the things he's said which I find good reminders (for instance, the importance of <em>surfaces</em>). But you're wrong when you say that means I don't dislike (much of) his work. His work leaves me cold. That's often what I mean by dislike. That doesn't mean I don't recognize his importance. And I can by all means use his words and photos to illustrate a point even though I may not like the photos.</p>

<p>A friend asked me to a Saint-Saëns concert the other night. I declined because I don't like his music. I don't worry that my declining his invitation will hamper my learning or investigative abilities. I used to not like Schubert all that much. It's hard to remember that because now he's one of my favorites. Go figure! Obviously my dislike didn't hamper my eventual like. And I don't feel like I was somehow politically incorrect not to have kept a more open mind about Schubert years ago. I have always recognized Schubert's importance and understood why he is so well liked.</p>

<p>Guys, there are many levels at which I look at art. While I am all for learning, considering a piece of art at length, putting it into historical context, understanding over time the "language" of the photographer, I am also liberated by liking and disliking, especially upon initial impact. I hesitated with your posts because there is so much of value in both your ideas. But they each also feel incredibly stifling. I love coming out of a museum with strong gut judgments. To me, they're an important part of the experience. I don't do a cost benefit analysis of that kind of reaction. What's more is that, even after careful consideration, study, and learning of the language (which I believe I've done at least to some mature extent with Avedon), I may still not like a renowned photographer and experience that energizing tension of being at odds with the art world.</p>

<p>Taste is a funny thing. As Picasso said, it is the enemy of creativity. There's an important lesson in that and I think that's what Luca and John are pointing to. It is especially true when taste becomes habitual. But a lack of taste is no better. Not being able to feel strong likes and dislikes and to assert them (at all stages of the game, even before being informed) would also hamper creativity.</p>

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<p>If I don't like their work, they're not any good. --Dan</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Reminds me of a holy book I once read. <em>"And God saw that it was good."</em></p>

<blockquote>

<p>Not being able to feel strong likes and dislikes and to assert them (at all stages of the game, even before being informed) would also hamper creativity.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I guess I would probably suggest just the opposite. I realize that we all think about what we do on some level, but I also recognize that thinking generally makes us move to the middle, where it is safe--to something we like. When making images, I think being neutral to preferences is where the magic happens. If I dislike a certain type of person, a certain type of photograph or whatever, then I end up possibly missing an opportunity to push myself or follow where something takes me.</p>

<p>For instance, I don't photograph flora as a rule. I may make an image here or there, but never have I worked it in any serious way(can think of only 2 or 3 images in over 30 years until 5 months ago). One could say I "dislike" most images of flora--basically, I am just disinterested for their generally cliched presentation and the fact that they are overdone. There have been some great images done, but they are few and far between and I am just not interested. Then, one day I come across this incredible Lotus growth. I enjoy flora in the moment, just not as a photographic subject, and found these plants incredible. I immediately had this crazy split within me to photograph and yet why--don't do it!?! I would not be inclined to show the work but I felt compelled to make images. Anyway, I have just started a <a href="http://acurso.wordpress.com/">blog series</a> on the process that ended up creating a body of work there, which was a totally different experience for me. Some of the earlier work can be found on this <a href="http://johnacurso.com/lotus.html">blind web page</a> (it has developed much further now) and I start getting into the lotus narrative in next weeks blog post.</p>

<p>Personally, and maybe it is because I often haven't always been in control of what I had to shoot over the last 20+ years as a commercial photographer, I have learned that likes and dislikes aren't conducive to creating art, interests certainly push us in this or that direction but then we shouldn't be blocking where we then go with artificial bounds. What I think I like or don't isn't always the truth but an anomaly of the moment.</p>

<p><strong>Luca - "</strong>I am not neutral at all. I just try to keep the "liking" and "recognition" levels separate.<br /> Of course at some point in time I reunite them. And so there are photographs of renown photographers I like, and others which I do not like."</p>

<p>Can you name two?<br>

____________________________________________</p>

<p>Alan, you're right: Most critics, like professionals in other professions, are writing for their peers. Writing for the public, specially the lay public, is really difficult.</p>

 

<p>John, I appreciate your response. We have a strong and clear, almost complete, disagreement. That's exhilarating.</p>

<p><strong>Luis</strong>,<br>

:-)<br>

<a href="http://bit.ly/xV5YSl">Like</a>, <a href="http://www.fandor.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/william-eggleston18.jpeg">like not</a>. (I think the latter is really heresy).<br>

<a href="http://bit.ly/Ai7Ktr">Like</a>, <a href="http://bit.ly/xwZr1o">like not</a>.<br>

<a href="http://bit.ly/yjHN8m">Like</a>, <a href="http://bit.ly/ACzdUF">like not</a>.<br>

<a href="http://bit.ly/w82sVA">Like</a>, <a href="http://bit.ly/xjW4tl">like not</a>. (I recognise the latter is a real masterpiece visual message, but still ...)<br>

<a href="http://bit.ly/zbrK0x">Like</a>, <a href="http://bit.ly/xNyqFL">like not</a><br>

I could go on ... ;-)</p>

<p>Luca, while I agree with some of your likes and like nots, and their originators, would you not say that this like/like not qualification is very subjective. As Julie said, there is no objective "art-o-meter" that can provide a similar answer that everyone of aesthetic taste and education might recognize. Nor is there any profound measure of art and of photography, although science - despite Luis's remarks about few scientists being in agreement (which I disagree with in most cases, and especially those explorations relatively devoid of the direct influence of politics) - is much closer to that objective ideal. Yes, Einstein showed that Newton was wrong in one application of his law, F=ma, that the latter scientist could not have measured, although his law has proven absolutely true in the vast majority of cases for 400 years. He also showed that white light is composed of various colours. Like or like not has little subjective basis in such laws or observations, which are probably the closest to the concept of truth that we will ever see.</p>

<p>Disliking Newton's observations and laws thus makes little sense, whereas liking and disliking, as Fred introduces in his OP, is not science or some objectivity based upon some irrefutable law of art, but simply a somewhat messy mix of sentiment, aesthetic background and knowledge, emotion, personal values, environment (and namely the EFFECTS of social, historical and cultural influences ON THAT PERSON) and other factors present in the various and equally unpredictable mix in each human.</p>

<p>The OP may (should) recognize that like and dislike are indeed subjectrive, simply because the factors of the preceding paragraph, as pure, defined or unalterable as some of them they may appear to be, are absorbed as such, or through selective mental filtration, into the spirit of the person, but are later "extruded" within - or after being transformed to - a very subjective personal overcoat.</p>

<p>But it is interesting, nonetheless, to know who at Photo.Net loves or hates Eggleston, Adams, Beardsley or Bach, and why. It is a forum of engaged and intelligent, and highly subjective beings. Not machines or art-o-meters (Julie, I love that term for an impossible device, or a possible yet assuredly biased or faulty, instrument). I often place this and other questions on strips of paper into a pot, to be picked out at will at my dinner tables, in case the guests run out of challenging topics to complement the exhortation of a deep red Cahors Malbec (sorry, Auxerrois). We get to know the tastes and the nature of argumentation of the fellow members.</p>

<p>Arthur, yes, like and not-like are subjective, at least relatively speaking.* I hope no one read me as suggesting anything else. Art and non-art are not as subjective. There are objective and cultural and historical and interpersonal factors at work in deciding what is art. The art-o-meter is simply a red herring. No one suggested anything of the kind.</p>

<p>*There's a limit even to the so-called subjectivity of likes and dislikes, which is why all of this is a matter of degree and not black and white. We often like stuff based on our exposure, our cultural backgrounds, prejudices and proclivities that come from outside ourselves, we like stuff for evolutionary reasons, biologically-based factors, inherited traits, etc. Why do westerners "like" the sound of tonally harmonic music and people of other cultures prefer, for example, pentatonic-based music? That's not just a matter of individual subjectivity!</p>

<p>But surely our likes and dislikes are more individuated and personal than is what the world considers to be art. The difference is this. Anyone who claims not to like the Mona Lisa is absolutely entitled to feel that way. Anyone who claims the Mona Lisa isn't art is wrong.</p>

<p>Being objective, I think, allows one to discuss what's good about the Mona Lisa even though one may not personally like it. It is very hard to pin down an exact definition of art. But I reject what I consider to be the laziness of therefore claiming that art is completely subjective, is anything I say it is, and we're done with it. That's just avoiding a difficult issue. I think it's more productive to discuss things like beauty, symbolic form, expressiveness, contemplation, communication, transcendence, consensus, the art world, transformation, creation, plasticity, etc. Those are the kinds of things we all mean when we discuss art. We can speak intelligibly about what art is. The foregoing ingredients (and many more can be added to the list) will be used in different proportions at different times and all won't be present in all instances. But a complex of these characteristics and circumstances will explain to us what art is. And, at any moment, something new will join the fold, something not considered before. But that everything can be art doesn't mean everything is art. And that someone can create something no one has yet considered to be art doesn't mean that any Joe Shmo (or even any one expert) has the ability to declare a historically-accepted work of art not to be art.</p>

<p>Looking at Luca's examples, I had another thought too. Maybe it's just a personal observation, but I think it fits in the discussion.<br>

There are two types of liking, and two types of disliking. There is work I like or dislike passionately - because it strongly moves me, because it resonates inside. Not always on first sight, but once that strong emotion is there, it's the kind of work that leaves a watermark. They're rare. And so far, I never seem to substantially change opinion. Fred once shared several Brassai photos here in another discussion. They had this effect on me. Piss Christ has this effect (the magic of light in that photo stays stunning). As usual, I have more examples with music, but I'll try to stick to photography for a change ;-)</p>

<p>And there is what is more liking rationally/emotionally. What grows on you, what you learn to appreciate. Or what you liked (somewhat) but over time find more and more flaws, and start to dislike it as it fails to fullfill your senses any longer. You can explain what attracts you, what not - it is reasoned, though taste still plays a major factor (obviously). To play with Luca's heretic choice, <a href="http://www.fandor.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/william-eggleston18.jpeg">this one</a> I like, but for reasons of composition, colour, original vision - not because it immensely moves something inside of me.</p>

<p>"It leaves me cold" for me falls in the middle of these, and might well be the worst qualifier. It failed to move, it failed to grab enough attention to dig in and develop your opinion. Out of curiosity, I probably still try to get into its visual language, trying to understand and appreciate its significance, message or aesthetics - and fail. I recall several picture of the week discussions where this happened. As well-crafted as the photos were, they just had nothing to tell to me.<br>

I prefer disliking, as it at least moves something.</p>

<p>And to be clear, none of the above has anything to do with something being labelled art, or not. I have absolutely no problem accepting I dislike a work of art. Those pesky sunflowers of Van Gogh really leave me cold, and many of his other later (French) works. I'm not doubting van Gogh is art.<br>

And I happen to agree with quite some of the like/like not of Luca, but I think that's accidental.</p>

<p>"Anyone who claims the Mona Lisa isn't art is wrong." No they're not. You're confusing the art <em>market</em> with art. Yes, the art <em>market</em> is not subjective -- it codifies, packages, commodifies, scolds, harrasses and brow-beats the buying public.</p>

<p>Art (as opposed to the art <em>market</em>, which is what Fred is talking about) is in the encounter. It's not in the thing. It requires a "me" and that "me" always has the freedom to see it as art or not as art. There is no such thing as art that doesn't require an encounter with a/some/any "me."</p>

<p>Communication can't perceive and perception can't communicate. Somehow, art bridges that divide. If it doesn't bridge, if the "me" that is a necessary part of what "art" is, doesn't "get" any connection, then it's not art for that "me." Art is what it does. You can't say it does when it doesn't.</p>

<blockquote>

<p><strong>Luis</strong> - Luca, while I agree with some of your likes and like nots, and their originators, would you not say that this like/like not qualification is very subjective.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>I absolutely agree. I think one of the points we are trying to make here, is that, even if subjectivity has an important role in the appraisal of works of art - but also of any other type of creative work - it should not hamper the appraisal of art - or of any creative work.<br>

I also am in agreement with the "relativity of science" issue. In science there maybe disagreements on the interpretation of phenomena or outputs, and the discretion will increase the more you approach human sciences.<br>

With creative craft and plastic art it is even stronger.<br>

Looking at Fred's response I somehow have the feeling that we are talking the same here. It is about the "dignity" of our subjective perception and appraisal (liking) and the openness to the new, uncharted. The latter requires the freedom from subjectivity and prejudice and preconceptions.<br>

Maybe this is it.<br>

Julie, I absolutely love your coming up with the relationship between "art" and the "art market". There is a whole wealth of factors coming into play, and I am not sure it is possible to define and explore them.</p>