Does Art Have to Appeal to Everyone?

Apparently, I Have a Weird Brain.

"You really do have a weird brain, you know. I mean, it's funny, but it's weird too."

That's what my husband said when I showed him what I'm working on at the moment.

And honestly? I can't really disagree with him. 😅 Two legs, a fish, a red mouth and some kind of head on top… It's not exactly the kind of combination you come across every day.

But that's sometimes how things work in my head. Things come together, ideas take on a life of their own, and before I know it, I'm making something I hadn't quite anticipated myself.

When people find my work strange, I sometimes hear: "Hmm… different."

You know the kind of thing. That little pause, that meaningful "hmm", followed by one word that could mean all sorts of things. 😅 Sometimes I wonder what's really behind it. Do they find it strange? Not beautiful? Or do they simply not quite know what to make of it?

Maybe "different" is just a handy word when you're not quite sure what to think of something. 😉

From Technique to Creating My Own World

For years, I focused a lot on observation, technique and being able to represent things accurately. But lately, I've noticed a shift in my attention. I don't just want to show what I can do technically; I also want to give more space to my own ideas, associations and imagination. I want to create a world of my own.

That also means I'm starting to look at my work differently. When I draw something recognisable and technically well executed, it's relatively easy to judge whether it has turned out well. But how do you do that with a piece in which unexpected images and shapes come together? A piece in which the associations, the tension or the meaning that emerges from those combinations also plays a part?

I notice that I'm becoming more willing to experiment. I search, try things out, combine and discover. Sometimes I don't know exactly where I'll end up. And that's precisely what makes it interesting: I don't always need to know in advance what the final result will look like.

But that freedom also raises questions. What makes a piece successful? When does a combination work not just for me, but as an image in its own right? Does someone need to understand what I mean, or is it okay for everyone to see something different in it?

The combinations I create don't feel strange to me. They grow out of my own thoughts and ideas, and when I make them, the whole thing makes sense to me. But of course, I don't know how they come across to someone who doesn't know what's going on in my head. Does the work evoke something? Does it stay with them? Or do they lose interest because it isn't immediately recognisable?

Who Decides What Good Art Is?

I sometimes wonder how much the context in which art is shown influences the way people look at it. 

A renowned gallery doesn't automatically make a work better, but it may give it a certain credibility. Someone has deliberately chosen to exhibit it. As a result, visitors might be more inclined to spend time looking at it and think beyond their initial reaction.

Perhaps, in that setting, a piece is given room to be strange, to raise questions or not to be considered beautiful straight away. While the very same work, shown somewhere else, might be dismissed more quickly as something that can't possibly be art.

How much is our view of art influenced by the people and institutions that recognise it? What happens when you don't have that context or backing? Does your work then have to stand on its own merits even more? Are people more likely to expect it to be appealing, recognisable or beautiful enough to hang above the sofa? Or is it allowed to surprise, unsettle and take the viewer by surprise?

I don't know. But now that I'm experimenting more with my own work, I find myself wondering how much freedom there really is to follow your own path, even when your work doesn't immediately appeal to everyone.

Making a Living from My Art

And then, of course, there's the question of whether the work will sell. I'm self-employed and earn my living through art, in the broadest sense of the word. That means I can't focus solely on what I find interesting; I also have to think about how to make a living from my art.

At the same time, art means more to me than simply making something and hoping it sells. I want the freedom to experiment, develop new ideas and explore my own visual language further. Because the more ways I can make a living from my art, the more time and space I have to create that kind of work too.

Finding that balance isn't always easy. I want to take the realities of being self-employed into account without letting the question of what will sell completely determine the direction I take with my own work.

I don't want to make my work difficult just for the sake of it. But I don't want to limit myself to what people already know or expect either. I make what I make. I can't help it.

I want to keep exploring what I can express through my own visual language and how I can give shape to ideas. Sometimes that means bringing images together in unexpected ways, sometimes it involves symbolism or text, and sometimes humour plays a part too. My work is often narrative, although the story isn't always immediately clear, or the same for everyone.

But What Does Beautiful Actually Mean?

Not everyone will think everything I make works. And that's okay. I don't find everything beautiful myself, and sometimes I wonder what exactly makes a piece interesting to me.

What one person finds beautiful, another might find boring. Perhaps I'm looking for more than beauty in a work of art. Perhaps I'm also looking for something that surprises me, makes me think or sparks my curiosity. Something with a story, a playful twist or a meaning that reveals itself straight away, or perhaps only later. An image that stays with you because it evokes something or because you can look at it in different ways.

That doesn't mean something can't be beautiful. But beauty alone isn't always enough to hold my attention. And perhaps that's different for everyone.

What I'm really curious about is what happens when people look at my work. What do they see in it? What associations does it bring to mind? Perhaps they discover something I deliberately put into it, or perhaps they see something I hadn't even thought of myself.

So, does art have to appeal to everyone?

Perhaps art doesn't have to be considered beautiful by everyone. Perhaps it's enough for it to have an effect: to surprise, bring a smile to someone's face or raise questions, without everyone immediately understanding what they're looking at.

Perhaps I don't need to have a definitive answer just yet.

For now, I'm simply going to give that weird brain of mine a little more room. And I'm curious to see where it takes me. 😉