Completely...

All art has symbolism. All of life has symbolism, and therefore it should hold true that all art has symbolism. That’s the revelation that I had tonight. When walking through the different art eras in art history classes, we approached the subjects of Realism, Narrative, and Abstraction. Realism was supposed to hold almost no symbolism. It was a flash of reality. Think Lucian Freud. Narrative has been around since ever since and contains a myriad of symbolism. Stories are told, subjects are explored, all through symbols. Think Norman Rockwell (who I enjoy) or some of the tackier work of the 18th-19th centuries. Abstraction, although essentially the antithesis of realism, is similar to realism in that it generally holds no symbols, but instead plays around with form and intrinsic emotional values of color, shape, and line. Think Kandinsky or Mondrian.

I have found that symbolism is impossible to escape. It is ingrained within everything. A Lucian Freud portrait, seemingly devoid of anything but a naked human figure, is riddled with symbolism. The subject’s age is a symbol of time. The subject’s figure is a symbol of frailty or strength, depending. The subject’s gender symbolizes masculinity or femininity. The subject’s complexion symbolizes their easiness or difficulty of life. The mere fact that looks can be deceiving, should make the work of art into a symbol of our empathy towards the subject, as we look for ways to relate or learn.

Narrative is symbolic, obviously, and needs no more attention.

Abstract art at it’s least abstract should be quite obviously perceived as symbolic, as the abstractions are symbols of their real-life counterparts. But even at the most abstract, symbols arise. The blocks of Mondrian’s works act as symbols of depth in the details. We can learn how to observe and appreciate life when we grasp that symbolism. Post-modernism’s link to the relativity of modern art is defeated by the mere fact that although the viewer’s experience may be subjective, the fact of the viewer having an experience creates a truth that is not relative. The wave of experience that washes over the viewer is unique in every way, but it is not unique in that every other person in the room will also have an experience with that work, whether it be life-changing or ignorant. This is really the basic symbolism that I pull from abstract art. There is a depth to the shallowness and a shallowness to the depth.

I am essentially wrestling with the notion that symbolism in art is kitschy. Distastefully done, sure. With subtlety, I don’t think so. With obviousness, I don’t think so. Any critic that recommends art to be devoid of meaning has not seen or grasped art. Any critic that says that true art is without narrative may have a point, but better be careful. Life is full of narrative. Art is a magnified reflection of life. Here ends my ramble.