Defining "Art," and Is Philosophy Art?

In his blog, Jacob Wheeler asked the excellent question, "How do you define art?" I spent a good portion of Art & Philosophy trying to figure out how I would answer this question (as my posts for that class attest), but I will restate it here: Art is the Intentional exercise of Original Creative thought Expressing some Idea or Emotion in some Medium.

Intention indicates that there is an active, conscious effort by the artist to create a work of art. It doesn't "just happen."

Original, Creative thought indicates that the piece is unique. There is nothing else quite like it, and it is purely the product of the artist's imagination.

Expression of an Idea or Emotion indicates that art is a communicative act. It exists, not for itself (hence my hatred of some "modern art," "art" undertaken for "art's sake"), but for the viewer. It must share an Emotion or Idea.

The Medium is the route through which the Emotion or Idea is expressed. It can be the written word, marble, paint and canvas, or sound, but whatever it is, it is something that can be perceived by the viewer, and thus completes the communication of the art.

Now that I have defined "art," I will address the question Betsy posed: "Is philosophy an art?"

I will not argue that philosophical works could certainly be works of art. There is no reason that a work filled with philosophical undertones could not be a grand work of art. But is the subject itself art? I do not believe so. Philosophy can certainly be expressed in art, but I would not call the subject itself art. When philosophy is expressed in a medium, it then has the potential to be art, but only if there is the CONSCIOUS INTENTION of the philosopher/artist that it BE a work of art. Lacking this intention, a philosophical work is not also a work of art.

To end with a question: What value, if any, is there in an "authentic" musical performance, or is it merely a matter of differing tastes?

who stares at cat poop while having a conversation?

Before I begin, I must say this: I really need to get over my shyness and start contributing to discussion in class.

Now, on to the blog.

As I left Mark Hopkins Hall, I reflected on the discussion we'd just had in class. One thing stuck out from the explaination behind the painting "Junk." That thought: "Who stares at cat poop while having a conversation? Especially if it's supposedly 'the most profound conversation of your life?'"

I voiced this opinion to a classmate, whose name I dare not try to spell for fear of awful misspelling. His point made me ponder... that "staring off in to space" some people may adopt while having profound conversations. I realized in that moment that I do the same. I avert my eyes and turn an ear to the speaker, and thus I absorb the conversation. While I can't say I've ever found a piece of cat poop on the ground to study while having this conversation, the idea of staring off is something to which I can relate.

Oddly enough, cat poop can be quite the conversation starter. At least in this particular instance. We found agreement in liking the painting (though I don't recall if I voiced it... curse my inability to get my tongue to move!), for the reason of the impact it made.

This lead us to this point: Art is in the impact. If a piece makes an impact on the viewer, regardless of whether it was the artist's intention... does that thus make it "art?" Can art be so simply put down to the mere emotional impact elicited when human eyes lay upon it, if for only a moment?

Thinking back, I recall Professor Johnson mentioning perception. How a person (for purpose of example, I shall name my hypothetical person "Bobert.") can look at something, like a tree, and sees it as only Bobert can, and that by seeing it, it permanently alters Bobert. That the arrangement of neurons in Bobert's brain is permanently altered in the mere act of seeing the tree.

If this holds true, Art must be the same way. Art must make this permanent change, this alteration of the viewer. But Art makes its impact in the way a tree perhaps never could. By viewing the tree, Bobert sees the world through his own lens, makes his own judgments. By looking at, say, a painting, Bobert still uses his own judgment. But he sees through a different lens. He sees as the Artist sees. This is not to mean that he sees what the artist INTENDED. Rather, he takes that little part of the artist into himself, and thus, a little part of himself is permanently linked to the Art, and by extension, the artist.

I feel I am starting to become longwinded, and shall thus end my post, and attempt to leave a philosophical challenge for you, my dear readers, to ponder: have you ever linked an object (like cat poop) with something completely unrelated (say, the most profound conversation of your life... SO FAR)? If so, what, and why? How has that altered your perception of the world?