After years of looking at and discussing art with Ruth in our Arting endeavors, I have come to really appreciate the time artists take to name their art. And resent it when they don’t.
I know the reasoning as to why they might not – so as not to bias what we see, letting us experience the piece individually and in our own way. Ruth reminds me of this, when I start to moan about an unnamed or barely named piece. The names matter to me as viewer.
Here is why I have come to value them – the name is part of the conversation I have with the artist about the world or message or theme or point of view embedded in the art piece. Let me see if I can make my point with examples. Look at the Desert by Paul Klee to your left. It’s an abstract art piece, but the name gives us a place to start, a way into its form and color, a first response to the painting. We can then take it where we want it to go, but the title is the starting point. A way to talk with the artist, to compare the paintings to others, to glean more from a square with colors.
Compare this to Wassily Kandinsky’ untitled painting below.
Where does our conversation begin with Kandinsky. It becomes a converstion of lines and colors, but I struggle for it to take me beyond that. It sits there. Maybe we admire it, maybe we don’t. But I don’t grow from this. A title would not guarantee it, but it would have given me an entry point, a conversation starter, a hint of what the artist had in mind. Whereas with the Klee, the naming of it “The Desert” gives it context as well as a way in.
Armed with the idea of a desert, I can explore other versions, like Henry Ossawa Tanner’s Lion in the Desert.
Or this photo of the Desert in Iran by Stefano Vigorelli on Wikimedia Commons.
Put the three desert pieces together, we start to challenge our assumptive world as to what the desert looks like, in terms of color, purpose, and function. I haven’t even added any examples of St. John or Hagar and Ishmael in the desert of which there are many, or paintings and photographs of the range and variety of desert people in the past and present. By Klee including desert in the title, I understood what he wanted me to challenge, giving me direction for context and conversation.
Lets take a look at a different type of example, a painting by Pere Borrell del Caso. What would you call it? What do you see?
Is the boy entering a room or leaving another? Is he sneaking into some place or sneaking away from someone? Is he poor or is he rich? What does he see? Where is he looking?
Borrel del Caso called it Escaping Criticism. While the title does not provide lots of clarity, it is an invitation to look at the painting and the artist to learn more. This title gives us a spark to play with. For Arting, Ruth and I paired this painting with Michelangelo Pistoletto’s Man with Yellow Pants and lyrics from Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now. Listen to that conversation when you get the chance.
During that conversation, Ruth and I came to a surprising conclusion. The title gave the picture a particular power by recognizing at some level that we don’t love be criticized. There is a joy to watching someone run from it in such a creative way. And that made the picture so very real to us, even though it is painted as a beautiful fantasy.
So here is my invitation to artists – name them. It is a boon to the viewer to start their viewing. It is not an end, a filter, or a cage. It is a gift and freedom to enjoy a picture.
Featured Image: The Red Rose by Elizabeth Blackwell
Discover more from Arting: Art As Conversation
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