The Art of Being Artless

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 2: The Art of Being Artless

Yesterday, we engaged in a good discussion about chapter 1. The central theme of this book is to encourage us to keep our eyes open, to be more alert to the serendipitous events that can inspire our work. These events occur within our everyday lives and may well be disguised as seemingly unimportant if we fail to look closely or to pursue them. The author also urges us to consider the fact that we can learn, among other things, that a life lived with art in mind might itself be a kind of art. What a beautiful thought!

In the case of Bonnard, his muse was Marthe. According to Kimmelman, Pierre dated the birth of his painterly identity to shortly after they met. To a lesser degree, I, too, can point to a specific time when my work significantly changed and I suspect there will be future times that will be marked as a turning point as well.

In Chapter 2, Kimmelman discusses unintentional art. Sometimes art appears unexpectedly. It doesn’t arrive through the front door. It sneaks in the back, the more startling for being the result of dumb luck. Several interesting examples are provided, but the one that caught my attention is a photograph by Anonymous that hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s a picture from the 1930’s of a woman with one leg propped on the running board of a car with the man in the car looking out at her. There’s a surprising beauty and symmetry to this photo. Clearly, the photographer was an amateur and probably had no idea that he/she had created a work of art. The author speculates that the photo may have made its way to someone’s attic, and eventually to a dumpster or flea market where it was scavenged by a dealer-collector. Eventually, Thomas Walther at the Met acquired it.

This discussion is preceded by an interesting journey through the transformation of photography from a solely professional activity to a popular amateur one thanks to the invention of the Kodak camera by Eastman. As an aside – I was interested to learn that the name “Kodak” was made up by Eastman because “k” was his favorite letter and he thought the name would be easy to remember. The early popular cameras didn’t have viewfinders, so the results were often accidental. The popularity and affordability of these cameras produced a sea of shutter-bugs and a few accidental masterpieces.

Kimmelman also discusses Bob Ross, TV’s art guru. Ross did not get bogged down in the issue of whether his cheesy paintings were actually good. Nor did he really care whether anybody even painted along with him… Ross’s message was: You may feel hemmed in by work or by family, but before an easel you are your own master... His purpose was as much to massage souls as it was to teach painting... He sold hope. I remember watching several episodes in Ross’s series and, although I didn’t like the paintings he executed, I was entranced by his sincere joyfulness about the act of painting. "Happy clouds" "Happy trees"! It was soothing and encouraging. Perhaps this is why he had such a large following. The books mentions that only 3% of Ross’s viewers actually painting along with him. So, the other 97% may have been, like me, attracted to the soothing aspect of his delivery. Nevertheless, did a few accidental masterpieces result because of his influence? Maybe.

The point is, a masterpiece doesn’t necessarily occur at the hands of a master artist. It can be the product of an amateur. I’m wondering if Kimmelman is changing the meaning of the word “masterpiece.” Webster’s defines the word in terms of a piece being produced through extreme skill. This implies expertise and intention. But, Kimmelman feels that a masterpiece can be an accidental product of an amateur without skills. I’m not certain that I agree, but will think about it further.

What do you think?