Does the Low Need the High More Than the High Needs the Low?

I think, in order to answer this question, it is important to define roughly what low and high mean to me. When I think of high art, I think of the kinds of master works you see in museums--large scale paintings and sculptures, refined pieces, pieces that fall into (however loosely) art movements that are known by a greater number of people. So what is its opposite? Low art is harder to define. Are we talking about the consumables? Package design, posters, ephemera? Graphic and industrial design? Album covers? Crafts? Or are we talking about outsider art? Pieces made with found or cheap, unconventional material? Messy and coarse art? Art that is never shown in museums and in few galleries aside from those niche galleries that show the work of their own kind? While I believe the question in the title of this article refers to the former idea, the more streamlined consumable art, I believe it is important to address this question of outsider art, too, because we often treat it as "lower" even if we claim to appreciate it.

While Pop Art clearly referenced the impact of consumer society in its Tomato Soup Cans and comic book halftone dots, the connection between high and low art is not always so obvious. High art, on one hand, often demonstrates the sentiments of the "higher" society of that time--the intellectuals, nobility, bourgeois, what have you. Low art, be it consumables or crafts, were much more attainable by the everyday person. Whether it was something they made or bought, these pieces, too, reflected the people.

I would guess that there was a switch at some time. Before the avant-garde, high art basically served to promote a certain type of lifestyle--a goal--for which people could aspire. Paintings of people dressed smartly, acting appropriately, were the norm. Since the dada, surealism, etc., high art has focused more on the criticism of people--what is wrong with society. Low art (meaning consumer goods or craft) continued to be goal-oriented.

Outsider art, however, is generally a combination of both. With the example of the Space1026 collaborative piece in the Print Center's Philagrafika show, you can see how the artists are referencing recognizable (yet other worldly) space--a yurt as seen in Turkey or Mongolia--but are marking it with colors and textures that are their own. It is not necessarily saying you should live here, but rather, what is it about living that is truly important? There are recognizable things in this yurt that you have in your home, and there are things that are not. Question your surroundings. Question what is important to you. In this way, in making a statement about life and goals, the yurt is an example of how outsider art can approximate hihg art. But a yurt, pillows, chairs, the interiors in general, are referencing craft (or low art) more than they are high. So, in this case, outsider art is referencing low art. Low art needs low art as a lexicon.

If collaborative works were given the credence of works made by the lone artist, if Space1026 had a piece bought by the MoMa, if the stars aligned in such a way that their work BECAME high art (simply by virtue of getting this level of recognition by the system), then it would go from being considered low art to high. Thing is, it won't.

People who are not from my generation may walk into the Print Center, and whether they like the Yurt or not, they will say something to the effect of "Wow, how unique!? How original?" As a Rhode Islander tapped into the print culture of Providence and Pawtucket, I looked at the Yurt and wondered if it had been made by Xander Maro. The connection between Space1026 and the remnants of Fort Thunder, the Dirt Palace, and other Olneyville, Providence enclaves, and the work coming out of other meccas of the hip (Detriot, Brooklyn, San Francisco), all have a "look." As Gerard pointed out, the outsider art of this kind of demographic, a mostly white, anglo-protestant, college-educated, skateboarding, noise rock listening subculture is different from the aesthetic of Self Help Graphics, whose posters happened to be situated right next to the Yurt.

Self Help is a group composed more of first or second generation latino americans, often the first in the family to go to college if. And these are but two of the kinds of "outsider" collaborations that exist. My point is not that Space1026 or Self Help do not make unique, innovative works. My point is outsider art lies in this weird inbetween spot, neither a blip on the radar nor the next wing of the modern art museums.

To compound the issue, national chain stores, like Urban Outfitters, coop the aesthetic of collaborations like Space1026 (either by hiring them to make window displays or products or outright stealing the fashion they wear and selling it to the masses). This connection between a slightly higher art and low art keeps outsider art from ever attaining the status of the true high art. It is never given the chance to shine because its pervasiveness in our pop culture pushes into the camp of cliche too early.

I feel like this sounds like I am anti-Space1026 and that couldn't be farther from the truth. There gallery openings are always on the top of my agenda and I, dare I say it, wish I were one of them. I think the spirit within Space1026 and collaboration is what will be the vanguard of the next art revolution. And I think it is unfortunate to say this, especially considering how I felt in the yurt (cozy and also stimulated to the nth degree), that Space1026 needs to modify (or completely overhaul) their aesthetic in order to divorce itself from the Urban Outfitters low art association.

In short, high and low art are so interrelated and overlapping, it is hard to distinguish one from the other. But because consumable low art is not taken seriously, in order to make a strong social commentary, outsider art needs to remain separate from consumable art, whether or not outsider art wants to be low or high.