Making Special.

I think the most important act of 'making special' that I engaged in this week, was the rearranging/redecorating of my room. I've always put a lot of emphasis not only on the aesthetic of my room, but also the objects that I choose to put up. Most of the objects in my room are ones that I've collected in the past 3 years since moving to Arcata. I won't display anything that I don't value, or that aren't in some way mementos of my past/present. Most of the items were either given to me, made by me, or are found objects. While this may not be the case for many people, I feel as though when friends, or new acquaintances, walk into my room, they leave with a better understanding of who I am.

So, mostly I really just wanted to post a photo of my bunny (Beauregard!), but the reason for this photo is my bed. I decided to rearrange my room because I wanted to move my queen size bed away from the wall, making it the (almost) centerpiece of my room. The cover is a quilt my Grandmother made using old sheets that my Mom had when she was little. It's meant for a twin bed, but I could really care less because I love it so much!

The wall art above my closet was taken from a clothing store I worked at last summer (they were just going to throw it away!) While it seems a bit creepy, this photo of three mannequins probably one of my favorite found objects in my room. Notice the rather effeminate man in the middle? No wonder the two other mannequins seem so confused.

Japanese print from my Grandfather and a kitty card my Mom sent me my first year in college.

This shelf used to hold all of my shoes, but I decided to change it's function. 

Both figurines were made in Mexico. The dog on the left given to me by my first roommate, the owl I took from my Great Grandfather's house when he passed away. Other than a clock he owned, it's one of my most cherished possessions.

The problem of "Primitive"

In the second chapter of What Is Art For?, Ellen D. discusses the problem with with using the term "primitive" in regards to societies (as well as their arts and culture). She suggests that while there are no satisfactory synonyms, the use of "primitive" often suggests societies that are "undeveloped and lacking complexity" (pg. 43, 2). Such connotations leads to the mistaken justification in the belief that these societies are inferior (to our "modern" Western society) and less evolved. While many traditional societies lack our dependence on technology and our level of literacy, Ellen D. argues that all cultures are highly evolved. However, despite her problems with the term, Ellen D. chooses to use it in "a descriptive sense as shorthand forms to refer to placement on theoretical spectrums" (pg. 44, 3).

Interestingly Robert Layton, in his first chapter of The Anthropology of Art, chooses not to use the term "primitive" when describing the art of small-scale societies. His problem with the term lays in his problem with the conclusion that there is a definite evolution of art. To say that a society's art is "primitive" is to say that it has changed little from the artistic style of that society's origins - thus it hasn't evolved and is not sophisticated (similar to Ellen D.'s discussion). As with all other modern societies, those which are determined as "primitive" to the western world "show a wide diversity of forms all far removed from their origins. While Ellen D., sought to find direct differences between "primitive" and "modern", Robert layton aims to examine "universal principles of artistic expression" and "diversity of fashions".

My position regarding the concept of "primitive art" is perhaps more similar to that of Layton's. My understanding of our species evolution is that it is not linear, and to suggest that the evolution of art is (cave paintings to Jackson Pollock) would completely dismiss all other traditions of art other than that of the Western canon. While we may look at our industrial economy and technologically advanced society as the ideal of "modern", we have to realize that such a term is completely culturally relative.

What is art?

Currently in my fourth year at HSU, I am majoring in Art History and Dance. In my youth I was raised in what at the time seemed to me almost like a little museum. My grandparents, who had become avid collectors in the late 60s filled their house with paintings, prints, pottery, wood and clay figurines, abstract sculptures, musical instruments and jewelry. My grandfather would take me around as a little girl and tell me about the objects - their origin and history, their functionality, and their visual qualities (I first learned about basic composition from him: line, pattern, texture, balance, etc.). This environment is probably what made me interested in looking at art early on, and is most likely what lead me to declare a major in Art History.

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Nearly five years ago today I sat in my AP Photography class confronted with this very same question, "What is art?" While I wish I could say that I have long since fully comprehended this complex word, it would be an exaggeration to say that I can entirely define it. As most of you have probably found out from trying to answer this question, the term "art" is rather ambiguous and even personal at times. One of the very first characteristics we want to use to define art is that it is subjective - in meaning and in experience. But as I feel like we have heard this before, I will try to stay away from defining art by only its emotive qualities and will instead once again confront this question by considering the relation of art to its specific origin and culture, as well as by identifying the role of the artist in relation to their trade.

I think its pertinent to first admit what is perhaps an obvious, yet essential, fact about art, and that is that art has its own culturally specific definitions. An apparent assertion is that various cultures create art by and for different purposes, and give art objects varying degrees of value. This is clear not only today, but also throughout the course of art history. In class as we discussed whether or not the woven vessels were art, and I could not help but ask myself, “How would we know?” Do we value these art objects more because they are foreign to us? Because they are handmade whereas in our culture mostly everything is mass-produced? I would also like to add that “good art” and “bad art” are culturally defined as well.

This leads me to address another aspect vital to the definition of art – the artist and, more specifically, the artist’s intent. I fully believe that the artist’s purpose is to intentionally create art for an audience to react to, and without this, you cannot define a creation as art. This definition would then separate art from artifact. I would also go further, for purposes of narrowing the broad definition of creation, to say that humans create art not as a tool for the most basic means of survival (set aside the fact that many artists create to make a living).

(Side note: I failed to mention music, dance, poetry, literature, etc. : / )