Nicholas Candela
Unit 7 Short Essay
Roland Barthes interest in semiotics, or the language of signs, guided his perception and subsequent discussion of art making and viewing. In order to begin to understand Barthes, it is important to note that the word ‘sign’ is not literal, but rather suggestive of everything from printed text to brush strokes on canvas, and even includes the subject matter of photographs. In short, Barthes believed that all of these signs, which we use in the creation and viewing of artworks, were born not of an individual author, but of cultural and societal practice. That is, no text, artwork or image could be imbued with any unique intent or idea, because its very concept was a product of the ideas and constructs within which it was initiated. These notions violate previously held beliefs that the author or artist “owned” his or her work. Cindy Sherman provides substantive evidence of Barthes’ viewpoint in much of her work, most notably her film stills. We, as viewers, are never presented with a photograph that shows us Cindy Sherman as the individual. Instead, we are forced to view all of her characters through our cultural lenses, thus leading us to identify them as filling a variety of stereotypical female roles from our society.
Sherman, Untitled Film Still #6, 1977
Sherman, Untitled Film Still #35, 1979
Barbara Kruger works under similar guises, never actually showing us females in compromised situations However, through her juxtaposition of text and image, she encourages viewers to apply what they already know from their own prior social, cultural, and historical discourses. The end result is a stunning body of work that calls into question the authoritarian male voice, and the subsequent expectations placed on females. Baudrillard was working with somewhat parallel notions regarding authorship, except that he went what can be perceived as one step further by claiming that actual realities had been substituted with signs. Additionally, he asserted that nothing could be done to prevent our realities from being completely converted into signs. To a larger, perhaps more significant extent, this prompted Baudrillard to claim that the proliferation of signs within a massmedia centered culture brought with it a significant amount of useless information that served only to destroy, subvert, or neutralize meaning, which in turn led to a decline in modernization and an overall degradation Coincidentally, one of Cindy Sherman’s later series, History’s Portraits, could arguably exemplify some of Baudrillard’s notions on simulacra as well. In this particular series, Sherman re-creates various masterpieces and well-known artistic figures of the past. However, not all figures in the series are directly influenced by a specific artist or image. It is these images in particular that suggest ideas of traditional western portraiture, but, in and of themselves, are completely hollow
Kruger, Untitled (Not Stupid Enough), Silkscreen on Vinyl, 109” x 109”, 1997.
Sherman, Untitled No. 213, 1989.
Sherman, Untitled No. 224, 1990
To rely too heavily on theory is not simplistic, just as relying heavily on process or media alone is not simplistic. They are simply different modes of thinking and problem solving. In Sherman’s case, I think that her work’s relationship to theories of both Barthes and Baudrillard probably evolved more as viewers read the pieces, and came to an understanding of what each theorist was driving at. I believe that the need to create is born out of an internal struggle or curiosity and while theory is sometimes a necessary step in solving or explaining those challenges, work that is rooted strictly in theory is formulaic. Therefore, good art can be said to be a synthesis of process, intent, and theory, a relationship in which theory is used to substantiate decision making throughout the process and thereby validate the intent. Sherman’s works are original in the sense that she is undoubtedly exploring roles and stereotype of women within our American culture. While she has been reticent to come right out and admit to this, I believe that denying any social or political content undermines her work, and removes an otherwise enjoyable level of complexity. Kruger’s work is, to me, more poignant and unabashed in its claims, but Sherman’s tongue-in-cheek approach resonates with me in part because her intent is not obvious. In its state of ambiguity, I’m not sure Sherman’s work tells us anything about our culture that wasn’t already obvious, even if ultimately ignored. Stereotyping, whether of gender, race, religion, etc., is prevalent on a global level, and her photographs don’t inspire viewers to change their perception of those stereotypes. I view them more as an opportunity to offer a silent acknowledgement, a moment of reflection and that is all. Kruger’s work is much more incendiary in this way. It moves viewers to action, inspires a will to advocate for change, and, in general fosters a deeper discussion about the prevalence of stereotyping and it identifies specific arenas within our lives in which these biases are frequently exhibited. When considering the relationship between theory and practice, I think that I am inclined to believe that there is a good degree of causality between the two. As an artist, I know that I possess what has been referred to as an “intuitive bank”. This is fundamentally a stock pile of images and information that I record, whether internally or externally, that I draw on for ideas, inspiration, substance, etc. When this intuitive bank begins to run dry, I go back to reading theory, studying artist interviews, processes, etc., and my stockpile is refilled. However, the academic in me knows that while it is possible to hypothesize theories, intents, contexts, etc. regarding art and art-making, I cannot rightfully apply any of my ideas without a pre-existing body of work. Without the work, everything is speculative. So, while I understand what David Salle is saying in his laments about Baudrillard being 15 years too late with his cutting edge philosophies about simulacra and simulations, I also think that perhaps Salle and his contemporaries never took the time to articulate their concepts as well as Baudrillard could have. Each one needed the other in order to realize the potential of their respective endeavors. Now, the exception to this “rule” of mine could be Clement Greenberg. In my limited knowledge of art historical contexts, he seems to be the only who is credited with a significant movement that is born out of (and perpetuated through) speculation. Certainly, Greenberg’s tenets of Modernism fostered some compelling work and very fascinating discussion, but as an art critic, he is unique in that his theories actually did
precede the work. They informed the work. The work may well have never arrived had Greenberg not perpetuated his ideas and maintained such close relationships with the likes of Jackson Pollock and Helen Frankenthaler to name a few. I may be dead wrong, and I cannot profess thoroughly enough that I am far from an expert in art criticism and theory, but from what I have read by Greenberg and about the man Greenberg, this seems like a plausible conclusion. Finally, I think that a strict adherence to only theory suppresses the aspects of the individual that make creating and viewing art so enjoyable in the first place. When we can move beyond simple likes and dislikes of aesthetics and have meaningful dialogues about the context of the artist and their work, there exist opportunities for us to know and understand one another on a much more human, and possibly even a more divine level. After all, if the first man was an artist, as Barnett Newman posited, then our intrinsic drive to create well preceded our desire to talk about it.