The Black Von Scrolls

Javier Bardem in “No Country for Old Men” directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007

Although film is just one of the many mediums used in contemporary art, John Powers argues that movies are “the art of our time”. We disagreed over a couple of beers, and vowed to take it online. 

John is a sculptor from Chicago, I am a painter from LA. Both of us are movie lovers, but he spends more time writing and thinking about them then I do. John is no cook, so if he loses this debate – he has to prepare dinner in his sparse, er, I mean minimal kitchen. If I lose, it’s easy; I am a good cook. As of yet, we have no one to judge. Any contenders?

Now, no one was arguing that contemporary art is better or worse than film, both can be amazing and equally crap. But when John sputtered out “Movies are ‘The Art’ of our generation.”, I immediately shot back, “Bollocks!”. If this was true, I would have instead chosen to remain on my home turf and not move to New York. Working in the film industry would have been a direct and far more lucrative choice to be creative. From where I stood, film making had a pretty clear structure; a craft which involved teams of people and a code of rules. Contemporary art was wide open, and I have always struggled with the idea of being boxed in.

THE UNFAIR ADVANTAGE

So to begin; the moving image is incredibly seductive. My husband Felix can’t even be inside a room with a television without dropping out of conversation and fixating on flickering images on a big glowing square. Film has the ability to automatically draw our attention into another reality, it’s almost impossible to look away. Film has moving images, special effects, time, music, and a captive audience in a dark room. It taps into multiple sensory levels within us, and thus already weighs as an unfair advantage in this debate.

But although movies can be constructed to perfection (and sometimes achieve the highest praise “that film was like a Renaissance painting”), it’s not the art of our time. I argue that contemporary art is very much the art of our time. Calling a director “an artist” is the highest compliment, society assumes The Artist carries more weight than The Director. Most artists approach their work much differently than Hollywood or international studios. If I pit, say, contemporary painters against filmmakers, I think everyone can agree the two are extremely different. And visiting the museum to look at painting is not the same experience as going to the theater and watching a film. Yet people will always be drawn first to images which move and glow in the dark.

INTENT

The old Hollywood saying is; “That’s Entertainment!” For the majority of movies out there, entertainment is the exact intent. Movies can draw you in, where nothing else matters and two hours of time slips away. Movies start with a script, a producer, a director, a budget, then a revised script, casting, pre-production, production, post-production (editing), marketing, focus groups, more marketing, revisions, and so on. Making revisions to a film via committee is not fine art. The studios aim to reflect the desires of their targeted audience. If execs intend to release a film for teen boys, they will steer the making of the movie in that precise direction and spend millions marketing to them. This is very much a commercial endeavor, from beginning to end. It’s a capitalist machine. Studios compete against each other like Coke and Pepsi, like Ford and General Motors.

With quality art, I think the reverse is true. Many artists observe the outside world and comment through their work. Some artists look within. Some unravel problems; deconstruct, construct, reconstruct. For great art to be successful, the artist (poised as philosopher, political commentator, conceptual thinker, craftsperson, director, storyteller, engineer, formalist, architect, physicist, magician, prankster, etc.) must attempt to crack their own code, and present their work at risk. The audience may or may not “get it”, and for many artists, that’s part of the experience. In fact, not “getting it” immediately might be the intent. For me personally, art which poses the questions can be more interesting than art which answers them. This is not OK with movie studios. Only a tiny percentage of writers/directors have this kind of freedom to goof around, making movies is expensive.

MANIPULATION

If you’re watching a movie and hit the climax of the film where one of the lead characters dies and the music swoons to intensify that moment, this is when the director wants you to cry. I am the viewer being manipulated by this music. I am being told to feel at a specific time, quite possibly because studio execs weighed it out with a focus group and it was decided to be so.

As you enter MassMOCA and walk past the permanent collection to the semi-permanent Sol Lewitt exhibition – the set-up is far less manipulative. The museum has offered a fairly straight forward environment (other than some texts and a behind-the-scenes video on how the installation was conceived). The art has it’s own impact. As the exhibit goes on and on, one might feel overpowered, but the art speaks for itself. I believe Lewitt designed the exhibition himself, and yes, there are theatrical moments when strips of color surround the viewer. But as the viewer discovers this blast of theatrics, there are no violins in the background. The art isn’t cropped in one area, showing the viewer exactly where to focus. The viewer is far more in control.

COMMUNICATION

Because art can encompass so many mediums these days, there are even more possibilities to communicate a message. Movies are projected as a rectangle on a flat surface and work within the same structure, time and time again. It’s predictable. Fine art can be made of anything, and the challenge is that more difficult. Visual art must capture the viewer, whereas movie goers are a captured audience.

Artists must achieve some kind of storytelling or position in moments, not hours. My favorite art takes me through a journey in a short period of time, and can have incredible impact. You can walk inside and around art (such as Richard Serra’s Torques or James Turrell’s Skyspace), the experiences are ever-changing and endless. The viewer leaves the work with a completely different experience; be it a giant sculpture, a performance piece or even a drawing. How can we compare these experiences to, say, a great Coen Bros. movie? Why would the movie be the art of our time, and not art?

Contemporary art remains ever the art of our time. I don’t believe movies hold that torch. Art is aloud to be itself. Am hoping John can respond to my post, and elaborate further on this debate.