Last semester, I visited the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum — now my favorite art museum — for the first time. Built by Gardner and her husband to display their vast art collection in a dignified and evocative manner, the museum is a masterclass in artistic harmony. Walking through the Gothic Room, I was struck by how seamlessly the different forms and aesthetics connected, creating a strong sense of continuity. Stepping out of the museum and back into the modern world, I couldn’t help but wonder if there were any such uniform art movements in the modern era.
Pondering this question, I trawled the internet for any brave soul who was willing to assign a label to contemporary art. After all, you never know who could be the next Louis Leroy, formulating in their blog posts and comments some modern equivalent to his famously coined label, “Impressionism.” What I found instead was curator Michael Rooks of Atlanta’s High Museum of Art, who firmly declared, “there are no art movements today” and “there is no one dominant philosophy or ideology” in modern art.
This departure from our traditional past is one that should be celebrated. Unified art movements, specifically those that are institutionalized and regulated, have a long history of exclusion and rigid selectionism.
Perhaps the most quintessential examples of this artistic institutionalization are the Académie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture and the École des Beaux-Arts. The resulting academy, which still exists today, was notorious for leveraging its political stature to police the aesthetics of the contemporary Neoclassical movement. One of the ways they regulated artistic forms was by prioritizing artists who painted subjects that the ‘academicians’ — those in charge of admissions — considered more prestigious and technically challenging. Consequently, artists who painted historical subjects were more likely to advance to the academy’s higher levels. While the rigid principles of the academy were limited to the Neoclassical movement, the principles of any ‘movement’ emphasize continuity and shared styles.
This systemic normalization of artistic standards, coupled with the historically homogeneous demographics of prominent artists, has led to inaccurate, stereotypical and offensive depictions of many identities. Chief among these, throughout centuries of canonical art, is the depiction of Black people, who, as BBC’s Alastair Sooke reports, were depicted solely as “slaves or exotic novelties.”
By refusing to confine ourselves to a single, uniform art movement, we allow for the natural growth of diversity in art, including the increased representation of historically underrepresented groups. Providing contemporary and future art consumers with expansive and intimate representation across all identities should be reason enough to maintain an art world that welcomes diversity.
Another significant benefit to retaining diversity in art is that it enriches the quality and variation of the art itself. It is difficult — if not impossible — to answer the question: What is art? In fact, when I was asked the question by a French teacher in high school, the best answer I could come up with was “anything,” accompanied by a shrug. Regardless of whether or not ‘mon professeur’ agreed with my answer (she did not), we did agree that art — in any medium — is irrevocably entwined with the artist.
Every brushstroke, lyric, photograph and chisel mark reflects the hand that conceived it. In discussing Louise Bourgeois’ iconic spider statues, London’s Tate Modern gallery reported that “the spinning and weaving of the spider’s web links to Bourgeois’ own mother, who worked in the family’s tapestry restoration business, and who encouraged Louise to participate.” On Andy Warhol’s extensive and often pop culture-oriented portfolio, the same gallery discussed his childhood, where “he found escape from his ordinary working class life in popular teen magazines and by collecting autographs from film stars.”
Artists can share techniques and artistic influences — they can train together and share their passions in the same media. However, each of their backgrounds is theirs and theirs alone. Their upbringings, like those of every individual person, are viciously unique. The logic then follows: Diverse individual experiences create diverse art. Our societal championing of art on behalf of its originality and creativity, rather than its adherence to arbitrary standards, encourages the most creatively divergent artistic output we might offer.
Opposite the Gothic Room in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is the Titian Room, which abides by no specific art movement — it displays works that span centuries and mediums. While the room is definitely idiosyncratic, it is just as beautiful as any other room and in fact displays an unrivaled aesthetic in its diversity. Though the museum is on the opposite side of Boston, we as Tufts students should heed the lessons that it offers. In reference to Tufts’ artists, we should continue to uplift their diverse voices and support their unique styles rather than bemoan their departure from fashions that are more accepted and ‘classic.’ Even for those who aren’t artists, it is of dire importance that we remember to stay true to who we are, honor our upbringings and own our signature ‘quirkiness.’
