The Effect of Modern Western Society on the Way We Perceive Art

The Effect of Modern Western Society on the Way We Perceive Art: A Position Paper

by Margaret Rose Orford

As I attended lectures, read the required readings, and completed assignments for an Introduction to French and German Philosophy class at UPEI, I noticed I was relating much of what was taught back to one significant and overarching observation—that there is a new and partially detrimental way we perceive art in a contemporary social context. Unfortunately, art in our Western society is widely perceived as a means to an end—as a science more than a method of expression.

When covering Hermeneutics, we learned that understanding requires art, and not just rule-governed science. In this context, “art” was not meant in the literal sense, but in the sense that to achieve understanding, we must relate what we hope to learn to our own personal experiences and greater historical contexts—much as we do with art. We were asked if all understanding requires this “art.” My answer is yes. I do not believe that science is exempt from this necessary part of understanding; I do not believe science is purely objective as others may wish to believe. To understand anything, regardless of whether or not that thing is science or art, we must relate or integrate said thing into a meaningful context. This context is always going to be skewed by our personal or cultural biases.

The emphasis on factuality and the fixation on objectivity that most have towards science is commonly applied to art as well. While studying music, I have been decreed the rules of composition and have been subsequently docked marks if I broke them—either by choice or accidentally. I have even been told that “the music tells you where it wants to go,” and, for a while, I believed this. But I do not believe that there is a magical musical entity, so now I must believe that music cannot have a mind of its own. Music is for me to write because I chose to write it. Therefore, I choose what it will do, or rather, what it will sound like.

This does not only apply to music: we are inculcated with many institutional dictates for all art forms. For example, when writing, we are taught that stories follow certain arcs or a certain pacing based on the successful literary works established before our time. When painting, we are taught the techniques of artists before us to become successful. Debord said that spectacles produce commodification and consumerism, and, because of this, everything becomes “a commodity to be shown.” The emphasis that our modern society places on consumerism has replaced genuine creativity and self-expression with the preferences of the masses—or at the very least, with what we are told the majority of people prefer.

I do not believe that words like “best” and “worst” can ever apply to art. When learning how to create, we study from those people that we’re told are the “best.” In actuality, we are studying how to maximize profits as an artist, while also ingraining the formulaic constraint of a homogenous intellectualism, bringing our perception of art closer to the way we perceive science instead of approaching science the way we should approach art. Debord said that people only appreciate the mythological dimension of art on a conceptual or intellectual level. I believe that our yearning for objective truth is often driven by a yearning to be perceived as an intellectual. Within a Western context, most regard intellectuals as individuals that know certain threads of information with 100% certainty. However, I posit that true intelligence lies in the questions we ask rather than the answers we can provide.

Byung-Chul Han believed that our emphatic engagement with consumerism led us to a detrimental hyperactivity. Living in a permissive society where we are told “yes more”—not only that we can do anything we choose but that we should choose everything we can—leaves us more fragmented and scattered. We have less time for meaningful contemplation (including the meaningful contemplation of art and creativity) when we live as commodities rather than in accordance with our expressive liberty. Consumerism incurs a hesitancy to participate in art that one has not studied or practiced. With a focus on success and performance rather than enjoyment and expression, people are less likely to dance if they do not believe that they are “good.” They are less likely to paint if they have not painted before; they are less likely to write music if they have never studied how to create in a “successful” manner. This fear of improper creation leaves people without a basic method of expression. All people have access to art, but they do not practice art out of fear of judgment. Consequently, the fear of being “bad” confines art and prospective artists to a prison of inauthenticity.

All of this is not to say that the history and cultural conventions of art should not be taught. In fact, I believe that artistic conventions are necessary: it is only when we are taught the cultural ideals of art that we are able to decide whether or not we wish to break them. Even if not not taught these ideals, we are bound to unintentionally create resonant art as we are constantly subtly affected by the culture we live in. Art must be practiced. I hope, in my future as a psychologist, to encourage people to reap the therapeutic benefits of creating whatever they wish, no matter their background. As Han believed, it is only in the moments of epiphany—in the moments we take to deeply consider the world around us—that the physical presence of the world breaks through all forms of mediation and reaches us on an emotional level. To create art as a catalyst for our own enjoyment and expression is to live in accordance with authenticity—an authenticity that we must reclaim for ourselves.