To be an artist is to create. To be a famous artist is to be created.
Artists have been mythologized in the collective imagination known as culture- their legacy built beyond their work until they embody the very meaning of what it is to create. They are no longer simply their work, but part of the myth of the artist itself, becoming these heroes of culture and history.
While this seems nice, sentimental even, upon closer inspection, problems arise. With their lives are romanticized and their intentions heroised, exceptionalism is confused with individuality. In other words, the very artists we honour are lost in a myth of our own making. But heroism in art is not just limited to the artist- this connection can be seen in art’s subject matter and art history itself, as well.
In today’s essay, we will be examining the third party in this relationship between art and heroism, that of culture. We will be looking at its pitfalls as well as its positives, examining who it effects and how. All to answer the question of why heroism is so prevalent in art and why the artist is treated in this way.
What makes an art hero?
Heroism, by definition, is to exhibit exceptional bravery in situations when others do not. To be an art-hero, therefore, is to be exceptional. But there are two different meanings here: that of being great, but also of being different. Both feed into the artist archetype of being great leaders of culture as well as being different from ‘normal people’ in dress, manner and taste. In both, the effect is quite limiting, as we will understand shortly.
In the art-historical canon, these art heroes stand out as bearers, even creators of change. But as much as they are mythologized for their individuality, the heroic myth itself is what takes away from it as well. In other words, the myth of the art hero creates these uniform figures who are little more than a repeated narrative. Any individuality is limited to a pastiche of the artist themselves.
Obviously, this is not very good. Take Basquiat for example. Whilst he is known for giving voice to black artists and lifting their work to the mainstream, the way his life spoken about is problematic. I touched on this in my essay about the tragic artist, about how issues faced in the life of an artist are romanticised, used as fodder in a heroic narrative. Rather than being depicted as a normal person, he is spoken of as heroically suffering his ‘tragic flaw.’ This term of the tragic flaw comes from the Greek language of the tragedies, where the hero is foiled by an internal problem. For Basquiat its drug addiction, for Van Gogh its depression: for an artist to be deemed great do they need to play the role of a hero in a tragedy?
As we can see, this is incredibly limiting. Paradoxically, they are limited to a larger narrative, not just that of the archetypal heroic narrative, but of art history itself. In the art-historical canon these artists play a role in this larger narrative of art history, with progression being the heroic conquering over the past.
This not only applies to the past, but also to the present. Building off this archetype of the heroic artist, the marketing of the contemporary artist as extraordinary, as part of this larger narrative, makes sense in the competitive state of the current industry. There’s a need to present themselves as exceptional. This challenges my point that to be an artist is to be created, as here it seems self-created.
I read once about an author was saying they feel they need to market themselves online so as to sell books. From this we can understand important branding is now- branding, that is, not just of the product but of the person behind them. Exceptionality and this idea that artists aren’t just creating something pretty but are single-handedly changing the world appeals to investors who search for this “certainty of return upon investment.” This is tricky considering that the benefits of art are mostly abstract. Except for the physical piece, the immediate benefits aren’t always obvious. If an artists markets themselves as challenging current society, as these cultural heroes that will be part of the art-historical canon, they are going to appeal to investors who want to also seen like these champions of change (think Medici family patronising Florentine artists).
However, as Gallaid points out, if there was such a concern over the certainty of investment in the past, we wouldn’t have all the great art of the past. But there is the question of these ‘great’ artists only being so through how much money has been invested in them- consider how these artists’ legacy are fueled by their pieces being sold at auction, even better if it’s sold for record prices, like Da Vinci’s ‘Salvator Mundi’ being sold for $450 million in 2017. Here, we see these pieces being bought for high prices so we think that they must have be culturally significant works. But, in the end, economic motivations aren’t really that heroic, hence the romanticised narratives attached to artists instead.
Marina Abramovic is an interesting case study.
She’s a pioneering performance artist who, in recent years, has done work in NFTs and made a skincare line. There’s a certain amount of her capitalizing off of the heroic figure she has made for herself, but is she deserving of this title?
In an interview with ‘The Art Newspaper,’ she said that “to me, the entire world has always been divided between two categories: the originals and the ones who follow.” Forgive my cynism, but I don’t agree. To say that the world can be divided in two suggests that people fit either/ or categoreis simply, reducing their individuality- in this case suggesting that some are individuals and others are not. Abramovic, of course, places herself in the category of ‘originals.’
Whilst I do agree with her intentions for projects like that of her Marina Abramovic Institute- which is “dedicated to incubating a dialogue between science, art, technology and even spirituality”- and I admire her performance art for its innovation, some of her more recent work does not reflect this sense of progress or even reflect any sense of her forging a path for herself.
Take NFTs for example. A common enough thing nowadays, and even the way in which she is using them doesn’t defy any limitations. In these she is self-styled as a hero, bearing a flag as she proudly rides a horse, but NFTs are incredibly bad for the environment, plus are just another collectable for the rich. She’s not really breaking any boundaries here, in fact can be seen enforcing those of class and cultural status.
Skincare, whilst appearing harmless, capitalizes off the insecurity people feel in themselves and is actually damaging to skin, so is it really innovation when she makes her own line? It’s a common enough thing these days, but the difference of her line is her own self-marketing which is attached. She brands herself as an art-hero as the product’s selling point: by buying this product, not only is the consumer closer to reaching beauty standards but is also becoming this creative hero themselves- suddenly they are not a follower but an individual!
In these ways, it’s all a little hypocritical. Here we see that the art hero archetype can be capitalized off, but this is not just a thing of the present as it can be seen in the past, as we will discover.
How has this archetype been created?
This latter part of the essay will focus on the different contexts in which art and heroism have been connected- bridging subject matter and artist as we move through it.
In European art, heroism in art can be seen in that of Antiquity. The aforementioned tragic heroes were part of a larger culture of heroism, seen in vast plethora of myths that dominated Greek and Italian culture pre-AD, as represented in plays, oral stories and visual art. Here the role art played was that of preserving these stories in physical form, and thus of preserving contemporary culture as a whole.
These stories were given new life in the self-titled ‘Renaissance’ period, where the culture of Ancient Italy and Greece was idolised. Art, once again, took up the role of preserving these sotries and the culture they stemmed from. But this heroism extended to the artists themselves. The artists of the Renaissance were placed in contrast to those of the Medieval period: whereas those of the Medieval period were anonymous, those of the Renaissance signed their names, whereas those simply followed preconceived ideas and practices, these created new ones. This, however, was all part of a way to build up the desired image of the Italian Renaissance as the height of art, as this heroic period where the artistic ideals were returned to and the darkness of the Medieval period was conquered.
Not that this was, in any way true. Renaissance artists- like their Medieval counterparts- still made in groups, and- like all art- continued to reuse ideas. But by early art historians (such as Vasari) they were painted as at the forefront of world art, pushing the colonial agenda that Italy was the cultural capital of the world.
These were the first heroes of the larger narrative of art history.
This infatuation with heroism is not just a phenomena of Europe, it can be seen world-over, each archetype evolving differently and simultaneously.
Take Mayan art. Whilst we know little about the individual artists and their place in society, we can see that heroism was central to the cultures and, thus, to art. Heroism takes the form of self-sacrifice, as seen in their practice of human sacrifice and, as in the mantel above, blood-letting. Whilst it may appear to be unnecessarily violent, to them it was a way of mirroring the natural life cycle of destruction and creation so as to manifest this very cycle’s continuance. This can be seen in its most dramatic of forms in the sarcophagus lid of Lord Pakal II, as found in the Temple of Inscriptions in Palenque. Pakal is depicted here being reborn from Xibalba- a loose equivalent of hell- into the celestial realm. Its his sacrifice on this transformative journey that both acts as a metaphor for the transformation of matter from death to life, as well as manifesting the process continuing. Mayan art can be seen as often centering around this heroic subject matter, as connected, not just to cultural practices, but life itself.
By contrast, heroism in modern China takes a very different form. Here, the idea of heroes representing both national identity and wellbeing is presented. This is part of world-wide practices of national cultural identity shaping what values are deemed as heroic and how the individual contributes to a wider purpose. National heroes are taken largely from the past, and its this historical link that curates a culture of shared memory and a shared identity. As John Stuart Mill says, “the possession of a national history, and the subsequent community of recollections; collective pride and humiliation.” The figure will personify the country’s view of itself, with the hero’s story following the lowest and highest points of the nation as a whole.
As Zhang Yimou’s 2002 ‘Hero’ film presents, heroes arise out of time of national struggle. Guo argues that, in the case of this film, there was a national crisis of identity following the death of Mao leading these people to look to the past. The central character of Nameless connects past and present, embodying the Confucian ideals and reasserting them in the modern-day. In turn, he represents how national heroes embody external ideas of heroism, which are also defined by cultural norms of gender, for instance. This can be seen in the female warriors of the film who, while abundant, all follow the same Confucian motivation of protecting their family so as to carry on the paternal lines, the line of national heroes. Here, heroism is defined by the external and projected onto the figure, meaning that these figures personify the values the country seeks and, in turn, the country itself.
As Guo says: “The reconstruction of national identity inevitably involves the production and reproduction of heroes who exemplify the true national spirit or embody the nation’s quest for meaning, identity, unity and collective vitality…the heroes of each nation are reliable indicators of its collective conception of itself.”
Heroism, therefore, is in not just the artist, but also their art. Whilst the meaning of heroism and the way of representing heroes differs world-over, all figures share the same purpose of defining these external values to the point of embodiment. In connection with the artist, we can see that real life people have this fictional figure- in the form of the art-hero archetype- projected onto them. It’s through this that artists have been painted as heroes of culture.
Conclusion
Overall, it can be seen that heroism is central to both art and its history. We see heroism featured in the subject matter of art, in the stories of artist’s lives and the wider narrative of art history. In all, heroism is something which is projected onto the subject. Concerning the artist, heroism is ultimately limiting, as it constrains the artist’s individuality to this archetype of the innovative hero who fuels the progress of art history and of society. Therefore, the question of the art-hero is also the question of the boundaries between individual authenticity and collective identity- this being a long-term project implicitly managed by culture itself.
Questions to consider:
Have any artists been treated by the canon as villainous rather than heroic?
Why is heroism an interest of art, globally?
Is the subject matter of art as focused on heroism today? And why?
Further reading (and sources used):
Currently reading: Anna Karenina by Tolstoy, Women, Art, and Power and other essays by Linda Nochlin
Music recommendation: Virtual Angel by ARTMS