After five years of anticipation, Bon Iver finally released their new album, “22, A Million” on Sept. 30. I gave it a first listen and was fairly frustrated. Replacing the raw and genuine sound I was so used to in “For Emma,” “Forever Ago” and “Bon Iver, Bon Iver” was what seemed to be an incohesive series of sounds; a conglomeration of music trying to be edgy for edginess’ sake. However, what did I know? I talked to a friend who knows much more about this album than I do and I found there’s actually quite a bit of meaningful background to “22, A Million.” I was wrong, in the sense that although this album is not as easy for me to listen to, it’s not merely music for its own sake. However, my initial repulsion sparked a thought that still remains: When it comes to contemporary art, there seems to be more focus on being innovative, than on actual content.
The starting point must be this: What is art? Many from Aristophane to Tolstoy have defined it over time, but it all boils down to human expression through creativity. Throughout history, all sorts of art have encompassed a relationship between content and form. Creativity pushes form to constantly advance and for this reason, art history follows the journey of man trying to find new ways to communicate something beautiful. Art has always been a language that appeals to the heart and the senses.
What happens, then, when the means become the end? Or else, what happens when art rids itself of content and innovative form becomes the sole goal? Art becomes inaccessible. I trust a lot of us have found ourselves in obscure contemporary art museums, staring at obscure objects we’ve been told are art and pretending to appreciate and understand them — all the while thinking, “What in the world is this?”
However, good art has layers. Good art is the kind one can appreciate even knowing little to nothing about it. Take a good poem by Whitman, or a classical piece by Chopin. Pieces of this sort are still beautiful and accessible to those who don’t study poetry or classical music. The more one knows about them, however, the more one appreciates the piece. This is the kind of art that’s not pretentious, but that teaches the beholder how to understand it.
Advancement of form is a beautiful thing, but without content, art becomes bland and senseless. Otherwise we will find ourselves surrounded by edgy pieces of art that don’t speak to us, but that we all pretend to like.
Letizia Mariani can be reached at mari8259@stthomas.edu