I’m still drafting my definitive answer to the question “what makes great art, great?” As you may guess this is no simple task. After all, the question has taxed philosophers, pitted aesthetes against one another, confounded critics and perplexed mere mortals, such as myself, since cave dwellers first etched and painted on the walls of their prehistoric (more precisely, Mesolithic) European “homes”, over 30,000 years ago. Though, I suspect that one of the qualities of great art is that it is lasting ? great art creates a truly lasting impression, both on the individual and on the culture.

So, while recently wondering the canyons of New York city and contemplating the weighty issue of “what is great art”, I stumbled across one of contemporary art’s venerable institutions, the Gagosian. Now, strictly speaking this was the Gagosian Store on Madison Avenue, not one of the famed Gagosian Galleries. Yet, etched on the glass walls I found a simple proclamation. There it was, an anti-definition staring me right in the face, in bold, white? lettering – “Pop Art is:”

More often than not I’ve found that it’s easier to define something by first deciding what it is not; by envisioning its opposite state, and then working backwards towards a solution. So, the “definition” of Pop Art struck me as rather apt. Perhaps, truly great art is not “gimmicky”, it’s certainly not “mass-produced”, it may not be “popular” (initially), and it’s definitely not “transient”. Yes, I believe, thanks to Pop Art, I am somewhat closer to an elusive answer on the nature of great art.

In the meantime, and back to our prehistoric ancestors, I wonder if the artists who created these ancient works had to contend with prehistoric critics (perhaps brandishing clubs), prehistoric gallery directors (perhaps dressed in neutral black animal hides), and prehistoric art lovers wanting the works framed or in a different hue or looking for something in a more “traditional” Paleolithic style.

Were our ancient artistic ancestors misunderstood? Did they have creative tantrums? Did they have second jobs? Did they have good gallery representation, perhaps in the “grand community cave”? Were they concerned that the next big art movement would consign their works to the artistic rubbish heap? Regardless, the passage of 30,000 years has brought some of this great art into the present. It’s interesting to ponder if any of our contemporary or Modern or Pop Art, could withstand the flow of 30 millenia. I think mostly not. It may be “big business”, but it’s certainly not truly great art.

To some degree we are art starved. Our home could benefit from more art, and our surroundings could probably get a visual boost from several more, carefully placed, and even more carefully funded, public art works. We like to be surrounded by art. We love exploring new ideas, taking on new perspectives, shaking our sensibilities, diving into pools of color and enveloping ourselves in new forms and textures. These make up some of the reasons we founded art251.

Then, I came across a recent article by Guy Kennaway, novelist, journalist and contemporary art collector, in the Times of London (July 9), describing his fatigue with contemporary art. Surprisingly, I find myself partly agreeing with his sentiments:

I have collected contemporary art since the White Cube [leading contemporary art space, London] was two little rooms up a narrow staircase, 20 years ago. I have been a friend to modern artists and modern art for a very long time, but now – there’s no escaping it – I’ve got contemporary art fatigue. I am swamped by art; it’s on the Tube [Londoners' term for the subway], in restaurants, bars and offices, on the street, at airports, stations and all over the telly [that's television]. It’s impossible to find an art-free space.

It was different 20 years ago when art was confined to galleries and specialist publications, and artists were sensitive, amusing and modest. They were fun to be with, and to champion. Now, art is everywhere…

I can sympathize with his trauma. Art is being co-opted by corporations, mass media has blurred the line between design and art, consumers are printing their own art on tee-shirts, and many artists have become market savvy and market driven. Yet, although art is fast becoming integrated into the global economy its permeation into our culture does remain highly localized. I don’t think Keller or even (north) Texas is likely to become art saturated like London any time soon. And, even in London, while art haystacks may abound, the needles are still there.

Banky’s interpretation of a ubiquitous Damien Hirst spot painting. Image courtesy of flickr

Mr.Kennaway goes on to lay the blame for his exhaustion at the feet of art dealers:

If I go and see a film I can tell if it’s any good, and I am confident about my opinion; if I read a book, I can tell if it’s successful and can explain why. We all can. But with art it’s more tricky. If we are unmoved or unimpressed by a piece of art we worry that the fault lies not with the work but with us. It’s madness.

The cleverest trick the dealers have played is to make us believe that the price of a work of art reflects its quality. It’s no surprise that artists just keep churning the work out. Why shouldn’t they? Damien Hirst’s spots are the new Burberry check, but it doesn’t seem to stop them getting more and more valuable.

Again, I can see his point, but I suspect his analysis applies more so to the upper-reaches of the art market, where typical prices will be more than the average home in our area, and where there is much more to gain (and lose) and faunt. But, like many other social instruments, art continues to be a way for individuals to express their individuality, or their membership in a certain group or their social status. This cannot be a bad thing. Yet, it’s a double-edged sword. As more people enter the monied, middle-class, more will seek from art what once only the elite could afford. So, some artists will jump on the bandwagon — they’ll produce more of what the market-driven market wants, and Damien Hirst, just like Andy Warhol, will hire more “staff” to create “his” works.

On May 14, Christie’s sale of contemporary art netted $348 million. In a good sign for the home art market, around 70 percent of the buyers for the 57 works on sale were from the United States. Mark Rothko’s work “NO.15″ pictured below took in $50.4 million (auctioneer not included).

Now, will similar sentiments continue in the less stratospheric regions of the art market? I believe so. Art still remains a fundamentally good investment (aesthetic and spiritual). So, despite some short-term economic ups and downs, I expect to see more people buying more art over the long-term. Art provides a clear alternative, to that provided by mass-produced sameness, for those who are increasingly looking for the original, unique, rare, obscure, different, authentic.