American Paintings as a Refuge from the Digital Age
by Chloe Heins, Director
What does a landscape represent? How can it persist, when the
forces of Modernism seem to make nature vanish? 1
I admit it — I’ve never been a natural when it comes to social media. I
love photography — taking pictures, looking at pictures — but I’ve
never felt comfortable with the inherently self-centered and somewhat
disruptive impulse to document everything as it’s happening.
There is something far less obtrusive about “shooting from the hip”
(in the tradition of twentieth-century street photographers) than holding
up a glossy iPhone. On a recent visit to the Diane Arbus exhibition
at the Met Breuer, I felt a surge of relief when I noticed the crossed-out
camera sign … no photography allowed — phew! I welcome moments
like this — unencumbered by pressure to capture my experience
(beyond memory) and show my friends/followers that I just saw the
exhibition we’ve all been reading about — moments that undoubtedly
result in a better viewing experience. The occasional freedom to purely
look and observe and not feel compelled to document or discernibly
brag about what you did or saw can be comforting, uplifting, and
thought-provoking.
Diane Arbus (1923-1971). Taxicab driver at the wheel with two passengers, N.Y.C. 1956 © The Estate of Diane Arbus, LLC. All Rights Reserved
In musing about my own relationship to social media, I end up
considering its relationship to art. When you are struggling to parse
through commentary in the daily deluge of articles, newsletters, social
media posts, etc. and get caught up, for example, trying to grasp the
concept of “post-internet-art,” works created pre-social media suddenly
seem innovative and refreshing. Although American paintings
exhibitions rarely make the “most-Instragrammable” top-ten lists and
can’t compete with contemporary “social-media-bait” installations,
I’ve come to realize that this is a huge advantage. We represent a part
of the art world that can still offer an unadulterated viewing experience.
Sure, we can’t escape the entrenched reality of selfie-sticks and
hash-tags, regardless of our age and interest level. As resistant as I am
to Snapchat, Pokémon GO, and whatever else is flooding the internet
that I haven’t even acknowledged yet, I am not saying we need to do
away with any of it. Rather, I’ve come to appreciate the world of social
media as a sort of foil for the world of nineteenth- and twentiethcentury
American art. I think of American paintings as a refuge from
our countless devices and the drone of digital information. While there
are myriad reasons why social media has been a positive force in art,
it is has also permanently changed it. As the Los Angeles Times reports,
The rise of social media has likewise seen the rise
of the “Instagrammable”
art object or installation: Works that look great in a box on
a phone but which may be thin when it comes to concept or ideas
in the gallery. Random International’s “Rain Room” at LACMA is
one such installation — a work that serves more as an ideal set for
picture-making than it does as a place where viewers can tease out
complex ideas about nature. 2
Consider art that was not made for this reason.
1. Priscilla Paton, Abandoned New England: Landscape in the Works of Homer, Frost, Hopper, Wyeth, and Bishop (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 2003), 9.
2. Carolina A. Miranda, “Social Media Have Become a Vital Tool for Artists — But Are They Good for Art?” Los Angeles Times, June 23, 2016, http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/arts/miranda/la-et-cam-is-social-media-good-for-art-20160517-snap-htmlstory.html.