The Dichotomy of “Romantic” and “Classic” Beauty
In my recent reading of “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,” I was struck by Robert M. Pirsig’s exploration of the concepts of “Romantic” and “Classic” beauty and their relevance to my work as a representational artist in the classical tradition.
Reconciling Artistic Approaches
As a representational artist, I’ve often found myself at odds with the prevailing trend of spontaneous and abstract expressions in art. The freedom to apply paint impulsively and haphazardly, akin to a guerrilla’s approach, doesn’t align with my artistic sensibilities. This divergence from the “romantic” style, as defined by Pirsig, has sometimes made me feel like a square in the art world. However, Pirsig’s work has instilled in me a newfound appreciation for my rational, classical method and the potential for a harmonious coexistence of these seemingly disparate artistic philosophies.
The Essence of Quality
Pirsig posits that quality is the core determinant of our perception of reality. It transcends mere judgment; it is a pre-intellectual awareness—an emotional response that precedes comprehension. When we encounter a work of art, our initial reactions are often visceral, framed by sentiments like “I like it” or “I don’t.” These reactions are rooted in our attraction to quality.
The Artistry of John Singer Sargent
Consider the artistry of John Singer Sargent, a master of portraiture. Sargent’s unwavering dedication to achieving the pinnacle of spontaneous eloquence in each brushstroke exemplifies the pursuit of quality. As a portrait artist myself, I deeply appreciate the meticulous effort required to create the illusion of effortless beauty in his finest works. Most viewers may not realize the intricate structure and scientific precision that underlie his paintings. Sargent’s work epitomizes the delicate balance between romantic and classical beauty.
While some argue that quality is subjective and akin to personal taste, the preferences of artistic geniuses like Sargent are shaped by a wealth of experiences that inform every stroke of their brushes.
Two Books, Two Questions
In my reading room, “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” shares space with another enlightening book for artists: “Alla Prima, Everything I Know About Painting” by Richard Schmid, a masterful painter himself. The parallel exploration of these texts raises two intriguing questions:
Can One Be a Good Painter Without Being a Good Artist?
Schmid’s work, while visually captivating, often lacks profound subject matter or narrative depth. However, it’s his sensitivity and expressive painting technique that imbue his art with a profound essence, blurring the lines between the “Romantic” and “Classic” classifications. Schmid seamlessly reconciles these artistic facets, elevating him to the status of an exceptional artist.
Can One Be a Great Artist Without Being a Good Painter?
Critics occasionally label realist artists as glorified copyists, dismissing the craftsmanship integral to their creations. This perspective overlooks the profundity in capturing the inherent beauty of the world. Art can indeed be “whatever you want it to be,” but it should aspire to transcend mere appearance.
Schmid aptly argues that “‘looseness’ should be the way a painting appears, not necessarily how it is executed.” Critics who claim representational art lacks depth fail to recognize the profundity in capturing the world’s beauty.
On the other side of the artistic spectrum, critics may accuse conceptual or abstract artists of superficiality, questioning the meaning behind seemingly simplistic works. Is dragging a piece of wood behind a car and displaying it on a gallery wall art? While some argue in favor, questioning whether art is not about the physical object but the experience it represents, the definition of art remains elusive.
The Universes of Great Art
Ultimately, great art creates its own universe—a realm where the artist invests themselves wholly. This is where art either thrives or perishes. The fusion of immediate visual appeal with an understanding of underlying structure and meaning offers a Zen-like experience in both creating and appreciating profound art. Strangely enough, this philosophy extends to the world of motorcycle maintenance.
About the Author: Robert Maniscalco
Born in Detroit in 1959, I am the son of internationally renowned portrait artist Joseph Maniscalco, under whose mentorship I honed my skills during the early 1980s. Following further studies in New York City and a residency in New Orleans, I returned to Detroit in 1997. In Detroit, I established the Maniscalco Gallery, showcasing local and international artists. Additionally, I hosted “Art Beat,” a critically acclaimed PBS series on Detroit Public Television, where I delved into the creative processes of celebrated guests. Since 1980, my oil portraits and fine art have graced over 850 distinguished private and public collections across North America.