Nehaveigur

There are those who report profound emotions when encountering abstract art, and I believe them, but I also believe that they’re in the minority. The rest of us remain unstirred.

The biggest failing of abstract art, and especially abstract sculpture, is its lack of accessibility. Unlike paintings, monuments in public spaces are meant to speak to all of us. Often, they’re funded by all of us through tax payments, which makes it particularly galling when they are undemocratic.

I’m choosing my words carefully here. I’m not claiming that abstract sculpture is anti-democratic. I’m sure that most artists would say that they’re in favor of democracy, and I don’t think that its existence is injurious to anyone. Instead, it’s undemocratic because of its opportunity cost. Abstract sculpture is speaking to the few when it should be speaking to the many. All too often, it doesn’t even speak to those most in need of being spoken to.

Consider the abstract 16-foot sculpture in a park near Ontario to those who have died from or suffer from Batten disease. Children affected by this disease rarely reach adulthood without treatment. I have spent some time thinking about and researching this disease, yet I cannot connect the sculpture to it. It may as well be a sculpture to the spirit of flight.

A monument that could symbolize anything symbolizes nothing. Because of this lack of specificity, I can’t help but feel but the ungenerous suspicion that the artist didn’t engage in depth with what they were trying to represent and were lazy in the execution. The argument that it’s up to the beholder to make sense of sculpture and to educate themselves about the artist’s intention feels wrong the same way it feels wrong to demand that poor people just pull themselves together and work harder.

The painted five-foot hearts that I see in many cities and even in airports make feel the same way. Because they could be anywhere, and are in fact so ubiquitous, they make a place feel generic and less interesting.