I'm not going to completely retract my previous entry, but I would like to point out some of its flaws and maybe think a little about some basic psychological principles in the context of why those flaws came to be. If you don't like self-indulgence, you may not enjoy this entry.
It started this morning with a response to my last entry from this fine artist, someone who, admittedly, knows a lot more about art and a lot more about what it takes to create a piece of art than I do. I, of course, know very little and one could make a good argument that, as such, I shouldn't be criticizing real artists. I'll get to the specifics of the response in a moment, but let's just say it made me reconsider.
Let me break my self-analysis down into three parts:
1.) Polarization: Writing about something, even in a venue as trivial and inconsequential as this silly blog, often seems to create this pressure to have an opinion and make a judgement. Rereading my entry about "Youth Parade" makes it sound like I pretty much hated it. And, as I was writing the post, I did pretty much hate it. Until I thought back to the night I actually was at the gallery, and realized that while I didn't love it, I sure didn't hate it. I remember making a couple complete rounds of the show, taking it in, and talking with my fellow gallery-goers about what the pieces meant, arriving at the conclusion I wrote about yesterday. Granted, it didn't take long to arrive at the conclusion, and one of the reasons I remember feeling ripped-off by the directness of the show was a melodramatic, depressing passage printed on the wall when I first walked in. (I don't remember the specifics, but it had some statistics about adolescent/college suicide among other things.) But, the fact remains, I really didn't hate the show when I was there, and yet when I started writing about it, the snowball of negativity started rolling down and I ended up with a rather scathing post. The post was more interesting to read (maybe) than a wishy-washy recounting of the show, but maybe not even that. Why did the article end up that way? Did I feel some odd pressure to either like it or hate it? When I tagged the post initially (before I started) the "bad things" tag was absent and I wasn't planning on including it--by the end it had to be there.*
* It has since been removed.
2.) Cherry-picking: We tend to pay more attention to those things which confirm our beliefs and arguments, and we tend to ignore that which challenges those beliefs. This is why most liberals think conservative pundits are idiots (okay, they are, bad example)--this is why most conservatives think liberal pundits are idiots. Anyway, I was tremendously guilty of this in my post yesterday. Now, it's a fine line between picking the strongest examples to make an argument and making an argument and then finding a piece of evidence that fits it. (For example, when I used to write academic essays sometimes I would write a paragraph and then leaf through the books I was supposed to be using until I found a quote that I could use without having to alter what I had just written.) So, yesterday, the only piece I really discussed at any length was one of the more unambiguous ones. While I still maintain that many of the pieces are saying the same thing, I completely and utterly ignored almost an entire half of the show, that is, the section with the guns with stickers on them and the different masks (only the Jon Bennet mask is shown online). What's even weirder, is that in the back of my mind I kind of knew I was doing this, but I never actually slowed down enough to really notice this and change my actions. Once my claims about the show were called into question, however, I was actually able to recall this nearly subconscious acknowledgment of my cherry-picking data, even though I mostly missed it at the time. Which leads me too...
3.) Cognitive Dissonance*: People are uncomfortable when they are forced to hold two contradictory beliefs in their heads. This is why #2 happens, so we can avoid such a feeling. When I got an email this morning defending parts (though not all) of the show I had previously ragged on, I suddenly had two conflicting beliefs: (a.) that this show was useless; but, also (b.) that a real artist, who knows more than me and whose opinion I greatly respect, did not think the show was useless. In this case, my desire to correctly appraise the art show was challenged by evidence (even if just in a casual email) that I was wrong. This whole post is perhaps just a way for me to iron out this dissonance. By revising my negative summation of the show as well as revisiting pieces in the show that were actually clever and creative, I can satisfy my need to "be more right." And, true to cognitive dissonance, I'm not forcing myself to change my belief on the show, it just happened, even to the point where I am now confident that my new belief is in fact the correct one.
* I think. It's been a while since I've studied any social psychology.
The circumstances for all of this are ideal in that my opinions about things I feel more knowledgeable about (i.e. music and TV) are far less capricious. If someone writes an impassioned case for why Glee is the best show on TV or for why Kings of Leon is the world's best band, my opinion on those two will not change at all. (I apologize to Glee for comparing it to Kings of Leon.) Another principle at work here (notice the bullet points have ended) is the pressures of social conformity. When someone, me for example, isn't confident discussing an opinion, I will be much more likely to adopt the opinions of others. My natural inclination is that I'm wrong, instead of everyone else being wrong (see: Avatar). While I'm not abandoning my former complaints entirely, I'll now admit that there were aspects of the show--the execution/precision, the stickers on the guns, the masks, some of the children--that were worthwhile. These are also the elements pointed out to me as, in fact, being good. Also, upon reexamination, I feel that categorizing the show's message as "too simple" doesn't accurately reflect that myriad of pressures facing kids. Some of the pieces don't seem to highlight a different pressure than the one before it, but many of society's ills are in fact covered.
So, in conclusion, I didn't love the show, but I didn't hate it either, and, more than that, I feel like I was the one who was too simple-minded for railing on it as I did. I guess I learned a lesson about the dangers of sacrificing accuracy when writing critically.
Here's my reparation...Mayer Hawthorne's "The Ills." I wish there was a good live video of this, but there isn't really. Alas.
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