all present and accounted for— At West End Gallery
The chief peculiarity of this feeling is that the receiver of a true artistic impression is so united to the artist that he feels as if the work were his own and not someone else’s, —as if what it expresses were just what he had long been wishing to express. A real work of art destroys, in the consciousness of the receiver, the separation between himself and the artist — not that alone, but also between himself and all whose minds receive this work of art. In this freeing of our personality from its separation and isolation, in this uniting of it with others, lies the chief characteristic and the great attractive force of art.
–Leo Tolstoy, What Is Art? (1897)
The 1897 book, What Is Art?, from Russian author Leo Tolstoy is an interesting treatise, one that I have mentioned here once before. The book decried the elitist nature of art at the time when it was predominantly the domain of the powerful — the rulers, the ultrawealthy, the academies of higher learning, and the church– as well as the wealthy art dealers who chose what was suitable for these elite few. The artists who thrived at that time catered solely to the elite few and were richly rewarded for their efforts, thus becoming members of the elite themselves.
It’s an engrossing read for an artist and I found myself particularly interested in chapter 15 of this book, which deals with the quality that determines whether a work is or is not art, which he defines as its infectiousness. It has nothing to do with subject matter nor with expertise or the quality with which it is crafted. This infectiousness is how it reaches out and connects the minds of the artist and the receiver. Tolstoy laid out three conditions that any work had to meet in order to be called art: The strength of emotion of the artist in its creation, the clarity in how this emotion is expressed, and the sincerity of the artist in creating it.
As someone who often struggles with confidence, wondering if my work will be seen as true art by others, this was most satisfying to read. The three conditions he mentions are qualities I have often written of here, all things I strive for in my work.
I use my work as a vehicle of emotional expression, first and foremost for myself. I am an artist (if I am even such a thing) who is, as Tolstoy puts it, infected by his own production, and writes, sings, or plays for himself and not merely to act on others. I have often mentioned in talks and here that my primary goal in the studio is to first create an excitement in myself for the work I am doing. Or as Robert Frost put it: No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.
I also pride myself on clearly expressing that emotion in my work. I want people, me included, to easily move into and connect with the emotion in that work.
And as for the third condition, sincerity, I believe that to be my most important asset as an artist. I believe my work is honest. I am forever vigilant in trying to keep it from being clever or manipulative. I see it as being representative of who I really am, all masks stripped away.
As I say, it made me feel better knowing that Tolstoy may have viewed my work as being art. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have. You can never really know about such things. But for now, I feel justified in having spent the past thirty or so years trying to create work that satisfies some inner need of my soul and having it, much to my surprise, infect others.
So long as I am infecting others, that time has not been wasted.
That’s quite of a loaded sentence, isn’t it? But, hey, there are worse infections in this world that I could be spreading.
Below is the section that came immediately after the passage at the top of the page. You can read What Is Art? for yourself on Project Gutenberg. This is, as I wrote above, from Chapter 15.
If a man is infected by the author’s condition of soul, if he feels this emotion and this union with others, then the object which has effected this is art; but if there be no such infection, if there be not this union with the author and with others who are moved by the same work—then it is not art. And not only is infection a sure sign of art, but the degree of infectiousness is also the sole measure of excellence in art.
The stronger the infection the better is the art, as art, speaking now apart from its subject-matter, i.e. not considering the quality of the feelings it transmits.
And the degree of the infectiousness of art depends on three conditions:
(1) On the greater or lesser individuality of the feeling transmitted; (2) on the greater or lesser clearness with which the feeling is transmitted; (3) on the sincerity of the artist, i.e. on the greater or lesser force with which the artist himself feels the emotion he transmits.
The more individual the feeling transmitted the more strongly does it act on the receiver; the more individual the state of soul into which he is transferred the more pleasure does the receiver obtain, and therefore the more readily and strongly does he join in it.
The clearness of expression assists infection, because the receiver, who mingles in consciousness with the author, is the better satisfied the more clearly the feeling is transmitted, which, as it seems to him, he has long known and felt, and for which he has only now found expression.
But most of all is the degree of infectiousness of art increased by the degree of sincerity in the artist. As soon as the spectator, hearer, or reader feels that the artist is infected by his own production, and writes, sings, or plays for himself and not merely to act on others, this mental condition of the artist infects the receiver; and, contrariwise, as soon as the spectator, reader, or hearer feels that the author is not writing, singing, or playing for his own satisfaction,—does not himself feel what he wishes to express,—but is doing it for him, the receiver, a resistance immediately springs up, and the most individual and the newest feelings and the cleverest technique not only fail to produce any infection but actually repel.