When the Work of Art is Lost …
Giridhar Athmanathan
The essay by Alan, if I have grasped it correctly, in a way that appeals to an absolutely
simple reader, is about how art can evolve from something that is considered to be a
piece of non-art.
Something more I grasped from his piece is how disturbing a piece of non-art could
become to someone artistic and that the extent of this disturbance is limited to how much
one acknowledges it.
And this penetration or the lack of it is greatly determined by the events that one does
not expect to come across in life.
This is nothing but something that is beyond the moral network in which he is brought
up.
Someone from Mars who has never seen blood , can imagine or rather exaggerate a small
cut on a human body to an enormous extent , while the same blood may fail to create any
images beyond what it 'actually' is to any of us on Earth.
Of course even Earth people see different images of the cut.
So art is basically
perception.
Let's look at art and debris here.
Who do you think is the real artist here?
Is it the Martian or the human?
I assume that we are all united on the question of what the piece of art is, with this I cut
across - back to where we were.
Who is the artist?
Though the piece of art was common - debris, the Martian made an
art-work out of it, so what is the role of the human here?
A mere spectator?
But please remember until a spectator fails to acknowledge an artwork, an artist does not
become one.
I have been rather crude with the artists in this account by associating their worth entirely
with the acknowledgement of a non-artist.
But rather, when a piece of art actually attains its true meaning, it is beyond recognition.
At the point of its purpose the art loses its meaning and becomes one to all.
You don't recognize it any more, just like your signature - it just flows naturally. It
reaches a state of debris - same to both the artist and others.
So it is a cycle where you start from debris and ponder your way back to it.
And how soon you finish this cycle is how soon you can assimilate the event in your
scheme of things or your network, chew it and leave it - for the next time the Martian
sees a wound he doesn't get so excited.
The art has truly reached its aim - in reducing itself to mere debris, if I may say so!
An artist excels in his ability to bring his disturbing ideas within the realm of the non-
artist – subject of course to the capabilities of the latter.
Here the prisoner is the artist. Alan becomes one when he culminates with the letter,
likewise the human is the artist and the Martian becomes one later.
Yes, the Martian was selfish in trying to expand his network of perception, to assimilate
more - in trying to become an artist; and so is Alan.