Let’s bust some myths about a commonly misunderstood field.
Many people say that they know nothing about art, and those who have had some exposure will quickly cite what they know about painting—perhaps something about Impressionism or beautiful landscapes, maybe something about the Renaissance, or possibly something about Picasso. Perhaps they know some about abstraction, or maybe some about Jackson Pollock or Mark Rothko.
My own journey in the world of art began like this. My father had great interest in the Italian Renaissance, so I developed a strong affinity for realism and portraiture, and I looked to some of the idols of this incredible art before expanding to other European giants that were making similar work. My mother generally liked beautiful pictures—landscapes that were idyllic and intricately detailed renderings of plants and flowers. When visiting New York museums as a child, I would follow and admire much of what my parents showed interest in. By high school, I was painting realistic portraits in oil, and I was drawing flowers for my mother.
In my first art history class, we covered chunks of the twentieth century’s modernists and also explored Marcel Duchamp and readymades, which led me to understand that art could be literally anything! When posed with this question on an exam, What is art? – I stated that it could be anything. Instead, the question that was more interesting, I argued, was: What is good art? It wasn’t until later that my understanding of art expanded even beyond that. Removed from my youthful desire to follow my parents’ tastes, I came to understand that art did not need to be “good” to have value, and that judgements of value can vary widely from one person to the next.
Modernism was precisely about this. Fed up with systems of judging “good” aesthetic value from the traditions of academies, waves of artists reacted by breaking the rules. By breaking the rules, they then invented new styles. When these styles were pursued by whole groups of artists, gathered around common concerns, conceptualizations, and reactive principles, the “movements,” which are now categorically analyzed and understood, were formulated. Many movements were based on social groups, and analyzers are still frequently uncovering artists who were part of movements or contributed to them but went under the radar. Many did not get well documented or recognized in their lifetime since museums and galleries had biases that acted as barriers for clear visibility over who was making what, and the associated value.
Indeed, one of the most interesting counter-stories that has surfaced in recent years is that Marcel Duchamp, often cited as the “father” or inventor of postmodernist art, was not actually the inventor of his best known work, Fountain (1917). The practice of taking found objects and retitling them was persistently explored by a lesser-known woman artist, Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven. Was it merely coincidental?
Now, returning to the topic of “contemporary art” precisely, you might say, “Ok, I get the general sense of this modernism stuff—they were reactive and breaking all the rules. What’s different about contemporary art?”
Contemporary art is yet another categorical label, a very large one that, very debatably and loosely, spans from sometime in the mid-twentieth century (with lots of developments, especially in the 1960s and 1970s, although this is not universally agreed upon!) to anything being created today. There’s no hard and fast line to draw around contemporary art since it is very global, diverse, and multifaceted in development. One facet is that we’re living in the period of it now. So while its delineations are still being mapped out, still being explored, and still in debate, “contemporary art” is more about what has been and still is emerging, and it encompasses a huge range of media, topics, ideas, and theories.
As a field, contemporary art has become known in several interest areas, such as:
Conceptual art, in which the art’s meaning may be through an object or a process. It’s primarily the idea or concept that matters and what lingers in your mind when you experience it in the gallery or elsewhere. Much of conceptual art forcefully breaks traditional molds, since the art might feature “found” or everyday objects, just as much as it might feature delicately crafted things or even completely intangible items.
Socially driven art, in which the art is either explicitly or implicitly responding to social movements and concerns of the times, and may have more or less sociopolitical commentary. Topics could span an array of perspectives across feminism, LGBTQ+ rights, racism and anti-racism, poverty, class and labor, and more. Much of contemporary art engages with specific social histories through the lens of a given artist’s lived experiences. The art may explore the artist’s particular identity and engagement in politics or civic life. Debates over “identity politics” and areas of social marginality may come into relevance. Many explore their own positioning in debates, looking to challenge assumptions and mainstream defaults or the status quo.
“Multimedia” and “interdisciplinary” art, in which an artist is often working in more than one medium to explore their message and concerns. While many artists still define themselves categorically as a painter or a sculptor, in contemporary art, it has become more and more common to define in an all-encompassing way as an interdisciplinary artist or practitioner or producer – terms that have come into circulation to show that the creations and processes can be way more than just one kind. In art schools and circles of higher education that teach contemporary art practices, the terminology is typically around different media in different disciplines. In these spaces, there can be labeling around being a multi-, inter-, intra-, trans-, or anti- disciplinary artist.
An expansive notion of how art can exist and where it can be shown. While much of contemporary art still shows in “white cube” galleries and art fairs, these are driven by the market with the primary intention of selling to collectors in the most visible and lucrative ways. As alternatives, there are many projects and art spaces, typically in the not-for-profit sector, that construct and paint their walls differently, build different kinds of “viewing” platforms, and may also construct spaces or installations in public spaces or outdoor environments. Some artists who resist the white cube also resist the over-commercialization of their work. They might even take a stance against uber-capitalism, neoliberal policy, and the elitism of the art world.
My list of qualities can go on and on, and my intention here is to be introductory rather than exhaustive. If you meet a contemporary artist, they will most likely give an opinion of their own on what it means to be an artist and to make art today. This might be the equivalent of their “artist statement,” which gives insight into why and how they do what they do.
Should you have further interest, a well-known book series that explores many of the themes, concepts, concerns, and ways of working by contemporary artists has been produced by London’s Whitechapel Gallery over the past 15 years, known as Documents of Contemporary Art. Meanwhile, if you enjoy documentaries and short films or prefer to start with a conversation, New York’s Art21 has been producing spotlights on specific artists for over 25 years.
Now that we’ve covered how contemporary art is continually being defined in more expansive ways, I want to playfully ask my next question: who’s afraid of contemporary art?
Contemporary art is sometimes feared and censored by those with more conservative positions. At its core, contemporary art can be rather childlike: It is filled with curiosity, cheekiness, and limitless potential to imagine. Some artists and works of art aim to be provocative and unhindered, working against dominant viewpoints and mainstream assumptions. They may intentionally depict uncomfortable subjects, from violence to nudity, or explore notions of the ugly and grotesque. Some showcase political opposition that might be an affront to another’s position, especially around values that may lead to the oppression of a marginalized group.
Museums and art spaces must always perform a risk assessment when showcasing works that challenge viewers to be uncomfortable; however, instead of being afraid of such risks, “controversial” art is often embraced by contemporary art leaders as a way of supporting the diversity of stories, viewpoints, and lived experiences in a society. This comes with the understanding that free expression is paramount and that any form of censorship is damaging—ultimately, working to undermine the human rights of the vulnerable. Art exhibitions may have signs or a gallery guide on hand to prompt visitors with information about a controversial exhibition or artwork. This is similar to guidelines around the content warnings and the ratings of movies, including the appropriateness for children and under-18 youth.
While there is always room for interpretation, it is very important that the leaders of art organizations do not give in to pressures to cancel or censor artists who might make some audiences uncomfortable. Just like book bans and historic examples of book burning have undermined the freedom of expression within literature and the publishing industry, doing so in an art exhibition undermines all of contemporary art and its ability to expand upon human truths.
Debates over what should and should not be shown in an exhibition frequently pop up in the media – whether an act of exclusion appears sneakily discriminatory or a contemporary artist has gone public with an unjust act. Although these stories might dwindle down and then resurface years later, let it be clear: There are terrible repercussions from acts of censorship, and it does more than hurt artists’ lives by denying or overwriting their experiences and opportunities. It also creates further barriers for people who have similar identities or experiences who are also denied representation.
Totalitarian governments especially do not tolerate contemporary art that takes on sociopolitical positions, as publicized in Western media by dissenting artists like Ai Wei Wei. Such artists are understood to be in opposition to the closely controlled narratives of the given government. Instead, governments may promote art and craft-making that continue a long history and tradition in their culture, continuing well-respected styles and narratives. While there may be undeniable beauty to such art and craft work, there is much less opportunity for experimentation and creative innovation. Lower tolerance for rule-breaking leads some artists to emigrate away from their homeland, and the work of such diasporic groups has been championed through contemporary art exhibitions in recent years. Simultaneously, however, such exhibitions might also be analyzed and critiqued for promoting Western political agendas and narratives that are less intrinsic to the complexity of the artist’s homeland culture.
Contemporary art, as you explore or delve deeper, quickly becomes a wildly complex and sometimes agitated field. The more you discover, the more you realize that contemporary artists’ identities and creations cannot be divorced from larger cultural phenomena, and these phenomena are not always obvious. You can increase your knowledge by arriving with curiosity and becoming ready to investigate your own biases and blind spots.
Always come with an open mind. Leave, as you may, with bafflement, continued questions, or a new understanding about contemporary art. Allow the work of art to resonate in your mind with a willingness to circle back to it.