On subjectivity versus objectivity

A constant point of contention in the artistic and literary theory realm is the idea of subjectivity versus objectivity. “Who decides whether art is good?” is one of the most basic intellectual queries, yet it is an immortal unknown that staunchly refuses to be resolved. The most remarkable logicians and creative minds can’t agree, and their ancient debates stretch forth to our present and predictably to any time in the future, granted that humans are around to deliberate on it.

It would seem that in our post-modern age, subjectivity looms large, and perhaps, is the only way to describe reality. That is, there is no objective truth, only impressions from our unique interactions with the cold marble, with the spread of colors, emotionless in it of themselves and only forming into coherence when we are places in position to view it. Something occurs as the, we assume, objective piece interacts with our subjective consciousnesses. We dab memories on to the work, our individual life histories, philosophies, viewpoints – all are nearly indiscriminately are thrown forth on to this material object in order for sense to assemble. What is tasteful to my senses may be vulgar to yours may be commonplace and mundane to theirs. The thread of the apparent story surrounding the piece is woven perhaps, slightly differently by every viewer that stands before it. Emotions elicited are as deliberate as reflexes, and the ways in which we choose to methodically reason the aesthetic quality out are influenced by our education in artistic form and theory or our lackthereof. Our reactions to a work of art is the art itself, a Rorschach piece, that we can only be aware of occurring.

Yet, this is not to say that there are no agreements. Hence, the objectivism seems to gain some ground in that there can be standards established. What is good art? Is what defines art as good precisely the fact that it is not subjective? Lessing’s qualifications for visual art is that it ought to be at “a pregnant moment,” — that suspension and enlargement of a moment preceding that of the most extreme of human feelings. But maybe Lessing is wrong. Perhaps good art ought to be propagating maxims about morality, maybe it should be purely aesthetic, striking us visually through our senses, bypassing any reasoning apparatuses. Perhaps the only qualification should be that it is innovative and bold in the sense that we have never seen anything quite like it before. By setting some standard, some theory encompassing our more or less collective agreements, we have turned more to an objective viewpoint. The canons of art and of literature are established because we (or the critics sipping tea in their ivory towers) agree on their relatively grand worthiness.

So what’s your definition of “good” art? Do you agree with the established canon or is it simply hogswash?