Why do some people hate art

Nicole Zepter: Hate Art #

Nicole Zepter: Hate Art / A Disappointed Love, Tropics, 2013 / Review by Krusche Martin

Nicole Zepter: Hate Art

The author asks at one point in her book: "Why do we admire art that bores us?" There are all sorts of reasons for this. Some of them are amusing, others are angry. But when I go to an exhibition, for example, nobody stands in front of me with a gun drawn. So I have the freedom to react according to my impressions. Perhaps I will not ignore social conventions entirely. You don't have to and don't want to snub someone at all times. But does this aspect have anything to do with art? No. These are social categories.

Does someone have to whistle into everything that is emphasized as important for any cultural occasion, if it loosens the seals or drives one into drowsiness at the same time? Of course, that need not be accepted. Attending a cultural event will probably be shaped by the understanding of art with which one goes to the one disappointed love and which image one likes to cultivate. This applies to public situations where someone may act differently than in private engagement with works of art.

The book makes it clear that Zepter knows the cultural scene in its basic arrangements and therefore notes, for example, with a wink: “Because it is like this: whoever understands art is intelligent. Conversely: Anyone who does not understand art exposes himself to the suspicion of being stupid. " (Does that sound familiar to you?)

If the subject of art is loaded with social agendas that are not categories of art, we occasionally have the salad. Scepter in another place: "Every purpose devalues ​​art." Just! It remains to be separated what art is and what defines how people deal with it. The cultural folk will not allow themselves to be persuaded anyway, and steadfastly cultivates their codes and rituals. Scepter with mild heat: “But anyone who thinks that art has replaced religion is wrong. Today we no longer believe in art like in a god, we believe in art like in Santa Claus. "

In addition to all of this, works of art, which we must consider important works, can get boring at any time. That is not mutually exclusive. Sensual perception and rules of the art world (art discourses) are at home in different worlds. They can also stay separate.

It is worthwhile to make these considerations because: "There has never been so much art as there is today." That would be good news. But this amount of art occurs in very differently intended encounters between people and works. This is where interests that are completely remote from art also come into play. Money, prestige, visibility ...

Of course, Zepter doesn't hate art, and what the subtitle suggests of disappointed love is hardly that for art, but rather that for the art business. This makes the slim book such a stimulating read that Zepter does not explain the world (of art) to you, but rather encourages you to stand up for your own impressions and emotions, without letting yourself be harassed by the company's professional staff.

Occasionally penetrating knowledge can develop in the valued audience. You have probably already seen it. Somebody takes a breath, starts with "I don't know anything about art, but ..." This "But" is treacherous. This is usually followed by nothing good. One would like to answer immediately: Then do not say anything or only when you have formed an opinion that is worth listening to! Because what is more annoying than the chatter of friends of art? The chatter of their enemies. Their vanguard are these yes-but-people.

Zepter offers an amusing and stimulating guide to read about what you might ask yourself if you are driven to talk to others about art. At one point she states: "By definition, art is something that lies beyond our experience."

Simple and clear. No? Well, it helps if the term transcendence means something to you. So while works of art can be grasped sensually and intellectually, while we meet artists in real life and can deal with them, art is not. It remains withdrawn from all access. One could deduce from this that one should not try to functionalize them either, because that is impossible. With this attempt a fraud begins, which Zepter elegantly opposes.

Anyone who finds the transcendence of art and the operational usages confusing or even angry could also get upset that the water is wet and that the Pope is Catholic. Zepter says unequivocally: "A judgment makes you vulnerable ..." All of this can get confusing quickly. (What speaks against confusing situations when we are otherwise constantly urged to be conclusive?) On the other hand, few people express the ability to think symbolically as puristly as artistic creation; if this work is not loaded with x other tasks.

When Zepter headed a chapter with “Art is a cliché” at the beginning, it was, for example, an indication that dealing with art has a very long history, which has always been an occasion to fight with people for interpretative sovereignty. Reading this book helps you to find out at what level and in which section you might want to enter into debates; or entirely avoiding taking part in such debates.

It might be enough to enjoy works of art while avoiding possible naughtiness in the art business and not being judged by whether you are capable of making intelligent statements about works of art.

There are social occasions to move publicly in connection with works of art. Art doesn't care. There is a human need to create hierarchies and to arrange each other vertically. Art doesn't care. There are market situations and conditions in which works of art become media through which enormous sums of money can be moved. Art doesn't care.

Zepter delivers fine features, pleasant to read, stimulating, witty. If you want to know more about it afterwards, you can look around in the field of art theory. Of course, this is not absolutely necessary. It can also be quite enough to enjoy works of art. And if you want to appear clever to other people, it doesn't necessarily have to be done through this topic. Any topic is suitable for this. That’s how I understood Zepter’s book.