The broad, overlapping question of whether art is indeed elitist moves me to one single answer: an unfortunate yes. But can there be hope for improvement? Also, yes.
Like many middle-class twenty-somethings, I am no stranger to weekend gallery visits; however, my real knowledge of the art world is at best rudimentary. Thus, in truth, I doubt I am well placed to offer an adept answer to this question. But then again, as someone on the outside of such a sphere, my opinion on its exclusivity is perhaps worth something.
It is no secret that a study of the arts is typically reserved for a select few. Too often, those from working-class and minority cultural backgrounds are led by a stratified society to believe that their aspirations should cease at preparation for employment. Whilst middle- to upper-class people (and generally those from a majority cultural demographic) are encouraged to pursue whatever interests them, which often manifests itself in a humanities, languages or arts education.
But before we decipher what is and what is not elitist we should separate the art itself, as a piece of physical (albeit sometimes digital) work, from the world it inhabits, the world of critics, curators and gatekeepers.
I agree with Mackenzie Thorpe’s neat perception in a piece for Raconteur that it is impossible for art itself, ‘an inanimate object, something not capable of independent life or thought or opinion’ to be elitist. Whilst art can be many things, it is not itself capable of excluding segments of society from its domain. No, such elitist practices are reserved for the aforementioned gatekeepers who dictate the value of art, the accessibility of art and even what we should think of particular works.
In the modern age, however, both consuming and producing art are arguably more accessible than ever with photography and self-publishing tools widely available. Moreover, the advent of social media offers a platform for niche and typically underrepresented artists to share their work. However, lower-class citizens continue to feel excluded from the conversations around high art. Contemporary movements are often highly conceptual forms that the general public finds difficult to consume and understand without a particularised knowledge. Returning to education, such knowledge often belongs to those who have received formal education and thus it becomes clearer where the rupture begins. Central to our understanding of elitism then is an intellectual partitioning which results from entrenched biases in our education systems. Thus, the potency of greater accessibility via the digital sphere is somewhat dulled.
Turning from production to consumption, if the work is out there to be accessed but requires at least a primitive schooling in its form and context, then should we look to local and municipal galleries to guide us? As with other enterprises, I believe that the successful circulation of culture depends on education and inclusivity and thus, both municipal and regional galleries have a moral responsibility to the community they serve to do exactly that. Unfortunately, as Mackenzie Thorpe explains, often when galleries seek to appeal to the popular masses they are ambushed by critics.
In 2007, when Newcastle’s Baltic Gallery (free entry) exhibited popular British artist Beryl Cook it achieved its highest attendance figures, and yet received a malevolent attack from art critic Adrian Searle in an article for The Guardian entitled ‘Call this a national treasure?’ Searle proposed that perhaps ‘the gallery wants to show how inclusive it is, and to make one more desperate bid to gain local popularity,’ as if a municipal gallery seeking to include greater parts of the local population were a negative thing.
Searle, along with curators who focus on developing exhibitions that only cater to those versed in art forms, movements and influences, are the gatekeepers that perpetuate an exclusivity and elitism that excludes many from not only being educated in or working in but from even consuming art.
But I am optimistic. In this domain of limited access and highbrow culture, I believe that, through an independent hunt for one’s own taste, individuals can overcome such barriers and focus on what they (rather than what critics) evaluate as artistic worth, an endeavour which has indeed been made easier by the internet. As prominent literary critic Harold Bloom explains, there is no misconception that the individual freedom to engage with and appreciate aesthetic value is dependent on socio-economic circumstances. However, despite this setback, he proposes that simultaneously the actual act of appreciating aesthetic value is purely individual, is disconnected from the community and is about sender and receiver. And so, I return to the separation of art itself and the world that surrounds it. Whilst the latter seeks to exclude, art itself wants to be seen, and we want to see it.
