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Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Conceptual Art: Deception, provocation and 'bad' jokes
Posted by Adele Tomlin on August 25, 2004 at 11:13 AM in representation, visual art | Permalink
I read with interest Peter Goldie's articleabout deception and conceptual art on the BSA website today. (To read click on text). Although the paper is certainly interesting and thought-provoking, in this post I will discuss what I think is wrong with some of Goldie's claims (I am not going to consider the claims he makes relating to deception in social psychology). In the article, Goldie uses two examples of conceptual art, Space Closed by Corrugated Metal by Santiago Sierra and Going Places by Leeds 13 (for details of the works see Goldie's article). Goldie claims that the deception involved in an artwork can increase its aesthetic merit even though it is an ethical demerit. In my opinion, although it is clear that deception was involved in the production of both the artworks mentioned, Goldie has given the deceptive element way too much priority over the central content and aim of the works which is 'provocation'. To discover that one has been deceived is ultimately to be provoked in some way. One can either get annoyed, angry or sad at the deception, if it is serious or harmful, or laugh at it, if it is genuinely funny. However, for a lot of people many of the provocations offered by conceptual art, as with many April Fool's jokes, are horrifically unfunny and a bit of a bore. As with the bad joke, one often feels forced to laugh in these situations because one doesn't want to be seen as 'not in the know' or lacking a sense of humour.
Since Duchamp's urinal it has been quite obvious that the aim of a lot of conceptual art is not to 'deceive' (deception is not a central part of the 'content' of the work) but to 'provoke' (emotions, ideas thoughts etc.). Deception has sometimes been used as a tool with which to provoke. Surely then it is the 'provocation' of the artwork (not the 'deception') that may increase its aesthetic merit, although how much aesthetic merit/cognitive value there is in being provoked is another matter. For example, I might decide to do something that will provoke a pompous and self-important member of staff in my department in order to expose the intellectual vanity and egomania present in academia. My fellow students (and perhaps even other faculty members) might find this amusing if done cleverly and with wit but I doubt very much that my act would have aesthetic merit. If I chose to record the act in some way and present it as a work of art people may then desire to see some aesthetic merit in it even if there were none there. I (and others) might then have a laugh about this search for aesthetic merit or claim that the point of the work is to hold a mirror up to these aesthetic pretensions.
However, I think the main problem with these two examples of conceptual art (as well as other pieces) - is that although they may indeed provoke strong reactions, how, if at all, do they differ in value from well-executed practical jokes? In the Sierra work - Yes it is amusing to see self-congratulatory members of the art world turn up to an expensive new gallery expecting canapes and champagne only to discover that its all boarded up (tee hee). Likewise, I think it is amusing and provocative for the Leeds 13 students to get external funding for their 'art project' and use it in the way they did. Both works are out to provoke and possibly to have jokes at someone else's expense. I disagree with Goldie's swift dismissal of the Leeds project, Going Places, as lacking merit as compared to the Sierra work though. A critic and layperson could easily argue that the cognitive value (or aesthetic merit) of the piece was the way in which the students showed how easy it is to get funding for projects which lack merit, vision or genuine talent, under the auspices of 'art' or other intellectual pretensions, if one has the right methods or contacts at one's disposal. Its a funny and direct way of making this important point. Another point the work seems to make (via the hilarious exhibition of drinking sangria, listening to music and pretending to go on holiday) is the fact that a lot of funding is frittered away and wasted on undeserving projects. I'm sure we can all think of lacklustre or worthless projects in the arts and humanities that have been generously funded to the incredulity of many. A further point to Going Places may be to demonstrate that the way people get external funding or financial sponsorship often implicitly involves some form of mild deception. Deception about the merits and originality of the project, the talent of the people involved etc. Although this kind of deception is not necessarily unethical or completely dishonest it is common practice and something we are all guilty of to greater or lesser degrees. For example, who has never felt personally that they slightly overexaggerated their merits/talents to try and get a job? Or alternatively, knew they weren't the best person for a job and yet got it through knowing or sucking up to the right people? (Personally, I do object to the second kind of deception but I am all too aware that unfortunately it is quite common for people to operate this way). Anyone who has ever experienced art school and the success of fellow students without merit or talent (the artworld is not only very nepotistic but also littered with mediocre people who have rich patrons (i.e. wealthy parents) or benefactors (i.e. powerful contacts)) will certainly recognise the sentiment behind this work/event. The Leeds 13 work demonstrates these points perfectly and the students should be applauded for their courage and integrity in making such a statement.
Goldie's failure to see the aesthetic merit of Going Places may be because he does not recognise the points being made by the artwork, or he does not think they are valid points or (as seems more likely from the article) he ethically objects to the fact that financial sponsors were deceived. Whatever the reason Goldie's view of the work surely says more about his priorities/ethics than about it being a worse artwork than the Sierra. Furthermore, I do not see why the financial sponsors (who would be considered members of the 'artworld') would not have the capacity to aesthetically appreciate the points the project was making. Goldie suggests that the sponsors would have just felt 'duped' or 'misled' and thus resentful. However, this realisation that they have been 'duped', if indeed they all did feel that way, should not necessarily lead them to feel resentment. They themselves may (or should) appreciate the point of the work at a deeper level than others and although it may show something about their environment and working practices that is not particularly flattering it may nonetheless be something they can appreciate without resentment. In my view, then Goldie's claim about the Leeds 13 work (if one is using the same standards applied to the Sierra work) is grounded on his own personal sensibility and preference rather than on 'aesthetic merit'.
To summarise, both artworks (on paper at least) share one common feature which is the aim to provoke and possibly to have a joke at someone else's expense. Although this may be a merit of the works surely we also have to ask what is valuable about a clever joke or provocation at someone else's expense. If both these artworks are structurally no different from an April Fool's joke, as Goldie appears to suggest, then although both types of activity can be extremely funny it is not at all clear why we would value this kind of art anymore than a clever stylish joke. Alternatively, if it turns out that most conceptual art is no more than an elitist joke or provocation then so be it. As we are all too aware though, the problem with jokes, when told too many times or when not that funny in the first place, is that they have a tendency to grate and bore. Likewise with provocation. Provocation is an important element in culture and is essential for change and development. Provocation with substance can be powerful and unsettling. Some people still find listening to The Sex Pistols' 'God Save The Queen' and 'Anarchy in the UK' offensive, and for many the songs are still as powerful and relevant today. However, other kinds of provocation (what I term 'provocation for provocation's sake') akin to the teenager who enjoys shocking her parents by dyeing her hair green etc are viewed by most adults (with patronising fondness) as not only transparent and pointless but also juvenile. A fate that many people feel has happened to how we we view most conceptual art. As the former chairman of the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London, Ivan Massow, eloquently put it two years ago: (most conceptual art is) "pretentious, self-indulgent, craftless tat...in danger of disappearing up its own arse." A statement which is both provocative and quite funny. But is it art though?
Comments
Posted by: Dylan Trigg | Aug 27, 2004 10:15:51 AM :
If I might add: Goldie’s analogy between social psychology and conceptual art seems totally unfounded. In the first instance, to import the implicit ethical overtones associated with psychology onto conceptual art is a dubious manoeuvre which enforces a false emotivism upon the latter. Not in the least, the difference in ethical implication between conceptual art and psychology is disparate to the point of being entirely isolated. That an artist should “not be troubled about the deception involved” is hardly surprising. We would have to be somewhat credulous to treat conceptual art and psychology with the same ethical perspective. And yet, this is the view that Goldie takes: i.e. that “artists, and philosophers of art, don’t seem to be at all troubled about the deception involved, whereas deception is a constant source of worry for social psychologists.” According to Goldie this is permitted on account of that fact the artists are ethically autonomous, so long as the work justifies the means. That this is a fallacy is confirmed by anyone who seen the recent Gustav Metzger exhibition in the Tate.
Metzger is a prime example of why the term “ethically free artist” is still in common usage. Founding his work in performances of destruction and seemingly random acts of violence upon inanimate materials, the derision of Metzger is based upon this supposition that because he is an artist, he is justified in carrying out these actions. The performances are shocking, not simply because of their content, but because the motives behind them are concealed and accordingly we feel deceived. What follows from this is a sense of resentment, evident in Goldie, against what seem like the protective veil of being an artist. Whilst certain artists no doubt deceive without any higher end in mind, the majority of ‘duplicitous’ artists deceive to instigate a particular reaction in the viewer – deception amounting to nothing more than a utilitarian act. It seems to me, that if we take issue with the ethical implications of an artist deceiving and nothing more, then we have only half-listened to what is being said. Thereafter it emerges as a “joke at someone else’s expense” which, according to Goldie is “not a good thing to do.” The mere impression of deception does not account for the overall consequence of an artwork however. In the case of Metzger, destructive art served the purpose of mirroring what is already existent, through the performance there is meant to be a revelatory recognition that I too am part of this destruction. But because his methods made recourse to an intentional veiling of obvious motives, the effect is lost whilst the viewer remains confounded and indignant.
Whether or not this loss of effect is a result of aesthetic (or academic) dogma or an inherent dislike of deception is another question.
Posted by: Adele Tomlin | Aug 31, 2004 1:27:38 PM :
Dylan
Thanks for the interesting comments. I haven't seen the Metzger artworks but they sound very powerful and unsettling. I will try and pay a visit to the Tate Britain asap. I agree with you that deception in these artworks is used more as a tool to get the viewer to the main point of the work and also that the analogy Goldie makes between deception in social psychology and conceptual art is pretty tenuous. I suspect that it is Goldie's dislike of financial deception which is driving some of the comments he makes in his paper.
A further note, one thing that has always struck me about references to the Milgram experiments is how most people fail to mention that not ALL participants blindly obeyed orders. In fact, 65% of all participants went as far as administering 450 volt shocks. That leaves 35% who didn't and refused to continue. The experiment, therefore, also shows that a significant proportion of people have enough courage and personal integrity to not obey authority at all times. The Leeds 13 artwork was a good example of this kind of courage. 'Going Places' sounds like a two finger salute to the mediocrity and unfairness of the artworld. Society needs people who are prepared to make brave statements when all around them are kow-towing to the status quo. Art is a great medium for this kind of activity and has a great history for implicitly criticising institutions that support it (e.g. Duchamp).
Posted by: Julie Kuhlken | Sep 2, 2004 6:29:25 AM :
Adele,
I fear by moving from the notion of ‘deception’ to that of ‘provocation’ you diffuse the ethical problem originally posed by Goldie too quickly. It may indeed be that what the artists are going for is a kind of provocation (unlike the scientists—and this difference does bring Goldie’s comparison into question), it still remains the case that the provocation is largely achieved in the examples concerned by means of deception, and I think it is interesting to consider how one might balance aesthetic and ethical value. This is an especially important question because it is not clear to me that everyone will and should come to the same conclusions about this balance, and if people cannot come to the same conclusions, then different people will have fundamentally different notions as to what is an artwork (appropriately enough, your final question).
To take the Sierra example, someone for whom deception cannot be tolerated in any circumstance (and Goldie mentions this ethical possibility) Space Closed has no value worth mentioning. Such a person will probably think of the ‘performance’ as nothing more than childish self-indulgence on the part of the artist. On the other hand, someone who has a more utilitarian view toward deception, and who judges deception more nearly by its ends, will follow Goldie’s analysis and probably defer to the aesthetic value of the performance, and perhaps even be receptive to its political import.
To take this even further, though, one has to wonder whether it is enough to simply consider the moral and ethical stances that viewers bring to their consideration of works of art, because it can be argued that works themselves embody certain moral evaluations. In fact, in my mind this is what distinguishes Space Closed to Going Places. The former is critical of deception to the extent that it intends to criticise the closing of banks in Argentina during the recent crisis there; it makes people experience an echo of the disappointment and humiliated confusion of those who relied on the banks to hold their grocery money. By contrast, it is not clear that Going Places expresses any moral evaluation other than a kind of sheepish admission of guilt. The very fact that the students didn’t actually go anywhere makes it seem that they implicitly acknowledge their wrongdoing.
In the light of the latter analysis, the balance of ethical and aesthetic values becomes complicated. It is a balance based not simply on the moral evaluations of viewers, but also of works of art, and we respond to works’ perceived evaluations as part of our own. As such, what we think is a work is inseparable from the moral evaluation we think it undertakes, as well as our own evaluation of that evaluation, and as such our very perception of works is tied to our morality. Quite simply, two people won’t see the same work as the same work.
Posted by: Tom Cochrane | Sep 3, 2004 11:29:15 AM :
Am I missing the point here, or don't artists deceive all the time, regardless of whether they do it to provoke or not? The deception is usually embedded in a frame 'this is an artwork' (and not a pipe) but this frame can be more or less conspicuous.
The paradigm deceptive artworks that I started thinking of when I read Goldie's article were Dali's trompe d'oeil (man that's hard to spell) paintings, and the entire op art movement. The deception in these examples just goes a little deeper into consciousness. But even if someone paints a realistic perspective painting, they are basically deceiving the viewer that the scene depicted is actually there. Obviously, a moments reflection by the subject will reveal the scene is not real, but this can happen by degrees, and the level at which the deception takes you in is important to the aesthetic experience. There's always that play between embracing the deception and distancing yourself from it.
Deception to me, is just about manipulating the viewer's perspective. The purpose of this in both art and psychology is to get at truths specific to their domains. Art uses deception to get at qualitative truths, and psychology to get at truths of human nature. They are both trying to capture a particular subjective experience, without the constant distortion of the subject's self-reflective awareness of what's going on.
I've been to enough psychology lectures to know that psychologists love tricking people at every possible opportunity. If the participants knew what was really going on, they would no longer be able to measure their reactions in a valid way. But it doesn't just have to be a means to an end. What about when psychology experiments study deception itself and its effects, like false belief tests in assessing the mentality of chimps and autistic people? Doesn't the deception itself then have scientific merit, or at least as much as it can have aesthetic merit in art? Also I don't see why deception in psychology has no scientific merit more generally. If you induce a false belief with your shiny new theory, that shows it works and hence is confirmatory. The capacity of something to confirm/falsify has intrinsic scientific merit so far as I can see.
So in either case they are trying to induce the desired subjective state in the subject. In psychology it has a scientific purpose, to investigate the state induced. In the art case, it serves an aesthetic purpose, just to have that experience. I guess then I broadly agree with Goldie's claims, though I think deception has scientific merit as well.
Posted by: Jeff Lee | Sep 8, 2004 7:33:08 AM :
Adele
Your comments on deception as provocation seem pertinent to the way art can surprise by performing outside an economy while drawing attention to it. Your example of provocation, The Sex Pistols, is a case in point, as is, say, the way early 20th century painting did violence to the bourgeois stretched canvas. Your justification of deception as a tool for provocation, which you consider, in the case of Leeds 13, to be directed at the art establishment, might also extend to encompassing their intention to provoke a media response along with a debate about the nature of public debate and how its knowledge base is arrived at. I also suspect that to justify deception as a tool for provocation requires at least partly shifting the ethical question about deception to provocation. In the cases of Sierra and Leeds 13, can it be possible that their intended targets (which include the media’s public) are incapable of engaging with the provocation’s terms? Which brings me to my point. What is so ethically worrying about deceptions in artworks if they provoke debate? For whom is Goldie so worried?
Furthermore, is he really alone in considering the ethics? Where does he base his claim that “the art world, artists, and philosophers of art, don’t seem to be at all troubled about the deception involved”? What makes him ask whether “artists and the artworld [are] justified in their apparent confidence that no such care need be taken with regard to performances of conceptual art which involve deception?” What ‘apparent confidence’? Anyone who’s been to art school knows that works intended for exhibition are subject to risk assessment.
Goldie goes on to separate scientific from artistic deception by stating that “for a scientist, a deception cannot have merit of any kind, scientific or aesthetic, whereas, for an artist, it can have aesthetic merit.” That is to say, that for scientists the deception is “merely as a means” without the means adding value to the end in the way an artwork can (i.e. through an aesthetic pleasure or some sublime experience in the Kantian sense). What is missed here is the possibility of aesthetic sensation in experiments like Milgram’s which induce a degree of aesthetic pleasure in anyone who is availed of the deception. This isn’t quite schadenfreude, but closer to a candid camera moment where the deceived can join the deceiver/s in enjoying the discovery in the response levered out by the experiment. In this sense I disagree with Dylan’s proposition that social psychology is isolated from art, in that through deception, art experience can have an element of social psychology experimentation to it and vice-versa. Goldie and anyone else concerned about the ethics in deception in art might direct their concerns towards an idea of art that makes less demands on us by always playing to expectation.
Posted by: Adele Tomlin | Sep 13, 2004 12:30:12 PM :
Julie, Tom and Jeff
Thanks for your very interesting comments. I will try and address them one by one.
Julie - Although I am grateful for the interesting and informative point (neglected or ignored by Goldie) you make about the Sierra artwork and its relation to the closing of the banks in Argentina, you then suggest that this is what makes the Sierra work critical of deception as opposed to Going Places. You say: “By contrast, it is not clear that Going Places expresses any moral evaluation other than a kind of sheepish admission of guilt.” However, as I argued in my post, I think the Leeds 13 work is also very critical of deception and carries within it a moral evaluation about the unfairness and criteria for success present in the artworld (which as I argued in my post could easily be relevant to other disciplines such as academia). The work encourages the viewer to respond with moral contempt (as Goldie did) but by doing so it also forces the more reflective viewer to question what the work is trying to say i.e. to perhaps realise that one's moral contempt or outrage (if one responds that way) should be directed at the nature and process of funding bids in the 'artworld'. It may even force an 'art-lover' to see the inconsistency or hypocrisy of their ethical reaction to the work: e.g. they dislike the financial deception involved but do not, however, make a connection between that kind of financial deception and a more general unfairness and deception involved in the processes and structure of the 'artworld' and their own lives.
You also refer to the fact that the students didn't 'go anywhere' as confirming that the work lacks merit. If anything, I would say that this was one of the main points of the work - it didn't 'go anywhere' in terms of what was expected. However, their successful bid for funding of the project could be viewed as 'going somewhere' as money is a powerful currency and signifier of success in the artworld (in line with our capitalist society). On paper, the project was successful in getting the funding. The Leeds 13 artwork, therefore, brings out this financial aspect of 'success' in art as well.
I agree, however, with your final point that moral evaluations seem to be implicitly tied to our aesthetic evaluations of these kinds of work. For example, it is not inconceivable that some people in Argentina when presented with the Sierra work might react with genuine upset and indignation that their plight is being represented in such a superficial way and it may be an awful reminder as opposed to a moment for reflection. This, however, was the point I was making when I claimed that Goldie's response to the Leeds 13 work seemed to be based on his own personal moral evaluation. Goldie failed to see what was central to the point of the work and as such made a purely moral as opposed to aesthetic judgement about the work.
Tom – Your point about the deception implicit in all artworks is to some extent true although one may counter this objection by arguing that most of the time we freely allow this kind of deception to happen whereas the examples discussed in Goldie’s paper are those where people have not 'agreed' or 'consented' to the deception beforehand. Furthermore, one could argue that we complicitly deceive ourselves not only in perceiving artworks but also in many other areas as well, e.g. by believing that a) one’s child is clever even though they’re not; or b) one’s lover or spouse is good-looking and/or clever when not or c) one is a brilliant lover etc. The point being that not all deception is awful and can be of great consolation to people (as art often is). However, this kind of self-deception is not what is at issue here so I am not sure why you raise the point that all art involves deception. You say “Art uses deception to get at qualitative truths, and psychology to get at truths of human nature.” Yet surely the comments I made about the Leeds 13 work demonstrate that art can also use deception to provoke us to think about the truths of human nature?
Jeff – I agree with pretty much everything you say in your post, you are absolutely right to question Goldie’s assumption that the ‘artworld’ is not concerned with ethical questions and to ask who he is ‘worried’ for or about in these cases. I understand that Goldie is planning to publish a book called 'Who is Afraid of Conceptual Art?'. Yet judging by Goldie's article it would not be unfair to respond that it is Goldie himself who reveals his fear of conceptual art via his surprisingly superficial and conservative responses to it. I am also grateful for the very interesting point you make at the end about the fact that the ‘duped’ participants in social psychology experiments may have something akin to the aesthetic experience on discovering the deception. In fact, I started to wonder how some of the Milgram participants might have reacted on being told what had actually happened and the point of the experiment. For example, on the one hand, some people may have initially reacted with horror or shame that they blindly followed authority and be annoyed at Milgram for duping them into behaving that way. On further reflection, the experiment may also have made them question their own personality and attitudes as well as other people’s (see below). On the other hand, those participants that didn’t blindly obey orders may not feel horror or anger at all. In fact, they may congratulate themselves and feel some sense of satisfaction that they did (at some point) resist the pressure to obey. Again, they may reflect on what the experiment says about themselves and other people (as we all do with the Milgram experiment). One could even go so far as to suggest that once the deception is revealed there is some aesthetic value to the experiment and that the responses provoked not only in the participants but also in us are not that much different from those responsed to some conceptual artworks.
In further support of your point and in Milgram's defense have a read of this:
…given the choice between "positive", "neutral" and "negative", 84% of participants in the Milgram experiment who were contacted later rated their role in the experiments as a positive experience and 15% chose neutral. Many later wrote expressing thanks. Milgram repeatedly received offers of assistance and requests to join his staff from former subjects. Why so many former subjects reported they were "glad" to have been involved despite the apparent levels of stress, one subject explained to Milgram in correspondence six years after he participated in the experiment, during the height of the Vietnam war:
“While I was a subject in 1964, though I believed that I was hurting someone, I was totally unaware of why I was doing so. Few people ever realize when they are acting according to their own beliefs and when they are meekly submitting to authority. ... To permit myself to be drafted with the understanding that I am submitting to authority's demand to do something very wrong would make me frightened of myself. ... I am fully prepared to go to jail if I am not granted Conscientious Objector status. Indeed, it is the only course I could take to be faithful to what I believe. My only hope is that members of my board act equally according to their conscience...”
(Taken from http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/Milgram%20experiment)
Perhaps we should have all been reminded of the Milgram experiment before the Iraq war and the atrocities committed by US soldiers in the Abu Grhaib jail. Also, another little fact I just discovered about the Milgram experiment: the participants were all men. Perhaps there should be more focus on this significant fact as well.
