As we pack away our Christmas trees and roll up countless yards of once-twinkling lights–it is hard to believe that another Holiday Season has passed. Staring at the wake of empty cookie tins and rogue ornaments, I find myself reflecting on the many great conversations we shared with friends and family during these festive weeks. Of particular interest to me this year was an interesting comment made during some polite dinner conversation. In regard to a discussion riddled with seemingly opposing viewpoints, my mother-in-law (Joyce) stated that perhaps the viewpoints in question were not necessarily wrong–but rather–they may be a components of a larger truth. This comment took root with me right away as it seemed to apply directly to something that I contemplate on a daily basis—“the art experience”.

Last January, I kicked off the year with a public thread that asked readers to define ‘art’. I started with a basic definition and hoped that the discussion would further grow (or perhaps narrow) the concept. The responses poured in and before I knew it the thread was alive with thoughtful contributions and insightful questions. This year I would like to add to that discussion by sharing some of what I have learned since.

Mr. Rough further explains: “Intuitively, we use aesthetic terms to describe nature, as when we call a sunset “beautiful,” but we do not thereby think of nature as a literal work of art. Conversely, much art, especially of the last century, is not primarily concerned with having a high aesthetic quality, e.g., Marcel Duchamp’s “Fountain”, or in the case of conceptual art, with having any aesthetic properties at all, lacking a physical object to support aesthetic judgment (e.g., Robert Barry’s Telepathic Piece).”

As an artist, I know that when I speak of art I am referring to both aesthetic and artistic properties in concert. As such, I have stopped referring to this complex combination as ‘art’ in favor of the seemingly more appropriate ‘art experience’.

I have spent much of this last year looking into many different fields that could provide a better understanding of this art experience. Neurobiology, Psychology (esp. Evolutionary Psychology) and Philosophy were all areas of study that were yielding fascinating insights into what we have come to refer to loosely as art. It was my experiences with this research that amplified Joyce’s words at that Christmas dinner. Her comment seemed to speak directly to what I was discovering.

Here’s a look at some of the component parts that I have found most promising thus far:

The late celebrated philosopher of art Denis Dutton pulled from much evolutionary psychology (i.e. a Darwinian theory of beauty) to develop his set of ‘cluster criteria’ for art in his book “The Art Instinct”. His criteria includes direct pleasure, skill and virtuosity, style, novelty and creativity, criticism, representation, special focus, expressive individuality, emotional saturation, intellectual challenge, art traditions and institutions, and imaginative experience. It is the approach of this area of study that I think demonstrates the best promise for the ‘why’ of the art experience (focus: aesthetic).

The Neuroscientist Vilayanur Ramachandran (referred to by Richard Dawkins as a latter day Marco Polo of the mind) is one of the pioneers of the emerging science of Neuroaesthetics. Dr. Ramachandran and his esteemed colleagues are looking to the neural bases for the contemplation and creation of a work of art. Somewhat akin to Mr. Dutton’s cluster criteria—Dr. Ramachandran uses a set of 8 laws to define the ‘art experience’. Peak shift, isolation, contrast, perceptual problem solving, symmetry, generic viewpoint and metaphor (Repetition, rhythm, orderliness and balance were once part of his laws but have be omitted in his book The Science of Art.) It is the approach of this area of that I think demonstrates the best promise for the ‘how’ of the art experience (focus: aesthetic).

Psychologist Paul Bloom also contributes a big piece of the puzzle. His popular book, “How Pleasure Works: The New Science of Why We like What We Like”, offers much insight into the aforementioned art’s artistic properties. In his book he writes “Much of the pleasure that we get from art is rooted in an appreciation of the human history underlying its creation,” Bloom believes. “This is its essence.” There’s a “life force” clinging to an original work of art that reproductions lack, the same way that something belonging to a famous person becomes an instant collectable. In art, much of that “life force” comes from the creative act itself—the displayed performance of the artist. “Certain displays—including artwork—provide us with valuable and positive information about another person,” Bloom continues. “We have evolved to get pleasure from such displays… for a human artifact such as a painting, the essence is the inferred performance underlying its creation.” Something that seems hard to do will always draw our respect and inspire pleasure. When people argue about the value of a painting, it’s generally an argument over the difficulty involved. “This is why people react so negatively to modern and postmodern work,” Bloom concludes, “the skill is not apparent…Jackson Pollock, for example, thus becomes a genius or a fraud based on whether you appreciate the skill involved in his paintings, or think that any five-year-old could do them.” (focus: artistic)

Interesting overlaps and contradictions between these views fascinate me to no end. For example, Dr. Ramachandran’s laws often make use of the isolation and amplification of something called the ‘rasa’ (loosely translated: essence) which seems to echo key aspects of Paul Bloom’s essentialism. On the other hand, while both Ramachandran and Dutton have strong criteria in their respective approaches—they both arrive at very different conclusions as to whether or not Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 “Fountain” is actually a work of art.

Current chasms between these growing areas of study aside, I do suspect that we are honing in on a better understanding of what an ‘art experience’ truly is. Some will embrace this progression towards understanding enthusiastically while others may recoil in favor of the ‘unknown’ as an essential component of the experience.  In either case I am excited to see what future research in these fields uncover.