I say get rid of the word "art." What would we lose?
Just the riches of the human imagination.
No, not lose the thing itself; lose the word
for it.
Like nobody at the dinner table being able to
call the painting on the wall "art"?
Yes.
And nobody able to call that dumb stuff I saw on the subway platform
yesterday art. Performance art.
What's the harm?
The harm is to my idea of what's right and proper. It's not right that a thing's value be
determined by what it's called.
One minute this thing, this fellow in his underwear wrestling a steering
wheel, is dumb stuff, low value, and the next minute it's art stuff, high
value. Same stuff, same person
making the call.
But viewable in different frames. Maybe what I was trying to do when I
gave you a different word was get
you to change your frame.
Frame-change doesn't change what I'm
objecting to. It still adds a value
that the thing in itself doesn't have. That's what I want to get rid of, that added value, that
unearned increment. To raise the
value of a painting or performance you ought to change it, not just change the
frame or the label.
Ah yes, change the thing itself. And what, in this case, is the thing
itself?
A fellow doing stuff in a train station.
And people in a train station don't do stuff
worth watching?
Yes, they do sometimes, but each time I would
judge their worth against all the other stuff I see in a train station. No outside bonuses.
I see. You're for a very, very big market. Your artist won't just be competing
against other artists; he'll be competing against everything that can come to
people's attention.
Isn't that the way it would be if you started
from scratch? Say there had never
been a painting. Nothing but
wallpaper. You got the first one and put it on your wall. It's competing with the wallpaper.
Which is competing with the view out the
window. And the television in the next room.
And the conversation at the table. That's life. And everybody who produces something has to buy his way into
it — as the makers of the commercial on that television well know. I see no reason why painters should get
a special price.
OK, so they're up against the wallpaper, fair
and square, competing for favorable attention. Not direct attention, of course, but the kind you expect of
wallpaper, that it will provide a pleasing background.
Yes, direct attention will be on the
conversation and the food.
And if your painting turns out to be less
pleasing than solid wallpaper that's the end of painting. That's all right with you?
Sure. It's properly ended. If the painting is an improvement, hey, you've got a market
there. And I think it's almost
certain to be an improvement. A
painting is going to have more ways to connect itself with people's lives than
wallpaper is going to have.
Painters work more to attract and reward direct attention than wallpaper
manufacturers do. Connecting with
life is a way to do that. It's
what brings forth comments. Dinner
guests seldom stop to comment on the wallpaper.
Very well. The painting wins and you get your market. The painters paint and time passes and
pretty soon you have what we have, people collecting paintings, and going to
museums. Same thing happens with
sculpture. People start to talk
about what they see. Won't they lose a lot of pleasure in that talk if you take
away the word "art"?
Ah yes, you remind me that they will. Historians need the word and they give
us pleasure, the pleasure of orderly knowledge. But the pleasure they, like all talkers, give will always be
a derivative pleasure. There'd be none of it if that painting hadn't beaten out
that wallpaper. That's the primary,
dividend-paying pleasure.
So the word "art" boosts a derivative.
People can use it to leverage
their investment.
Yes. That's why I want to get rid of it. Too many people are doing that. All this leveraging makes me nervous.