[6] Separating Art From The Artist.

An Op-Ed delving into the difficulty of being a fan of Kanye West.

Considering the personal impact that art can imbue on us, it’s not outlandish to assume that our taste in art is a decent representation of our identities. Whether that be the strokes of paint on fifteenth-century canvases and how they paint a picture of our struggles. Perhaps it's the intricate composition of overlapping guitars and incomprehensible vocals in psychedelic rock.

Likewise, considering that art is so personal to so many of us, we can assume that artists instill themselves into the art that they create. Thus appears the dilemma: what are the ethics of engaging with art from good artists who happen to be bad people?

But first, let’s consider what constitutes “good art.” Sure, the taste that people have in art is inherently impartial, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any similarities in how we perceive art. Typically, “good art” is those that provoke us, whether with its memorable first impressions or its technical marvels or its philosophical arguments or its emotional tendencies. Whatever it may be, we like (or dislike) art based on how we feel about the art.

Yet no artist wants to create bad art. Then, why are some art pieces better than others? Though practical experience must play some sort of a role, I think that the difference between “decent” and “good” art is dependent on how much we empathize with the artist.

For if it weren’t for the artist’s choice to create the art in the exact manner that its presented to us, we wouldn’t have had the exact reaction to said art. In other words, it is because the artist chose to create their art in an individualistic way that we are able to create personal relationships with art. It doesn’t matter whether those relationships are good or bad, because it’s crazy that we can have such strong relationships with inanimate objects in the first place.

And so, it could be argued that the practice of experiencing art can be optimized by expanding our knowledge. More specifically, if we learn about the artist — their personal motivations, their private struggles, their perception of their own art — we must be able to enhance our reception of art, right?

Still, this isn’t as simple. While exposure to the art beyond what is presented may help to provide context for novel interpretations of the art, I’m reluctant to agree that this enhances much.

Of course, it’s fair to argue that learning about the artist can help to nurture our understanding of their art. But this isn’t an extension of the relationship that we had with the art prior to learning about the artist. By learning what the artist had intended to create with their art, we are compelled to give up our own interpretation of their art. Because who are we to say that the artist is incorrect in their assessment of their original work?

In reality, it doesn’t really matter what artists say about their art. If artists wanted their audiences to know about the meticulous details behind the production of each work, then they would’ve made that explanation a part of their artistic creation. There’s a reason why these artists leave certain things unknown to their audience. Perhaps there’s more to be gained from knowing less.

Over the past few months, I’ve become particularly fond of art. This started from the most accessible form of art in the modern world, music. Music is everywhere. It hides behind the loud conversations at restaurants. It accompanies dramatic scenes in cinematic works. It begs to be listened to on streaming platforms.

The music industry has its fair share of these “good artists, bad people” types. A modern and particularly personal example would be Kanye West. Throughout his illustrious career, Kanye has been no stranger to controversy. His abrupt interruption of Taylor Swift at the 2009 VMAs. He remarks that “slavery for 400 years… that sounds like a choice.” His recent antisemitic declarations.

And as intolerable as some of these controversies are, I’m not sure if it invalidates Kanye’s music. There’s the argument that it seems impossible for these controversies, especially those that have been taken out of context, to be the sole thing that Kanye’s music represents.

Does the heartfelt epitaph of his deceased mother in Life Of The Party mean nothing because of his political campaigns? Is the introspection on being a father in Violent Crimes diminished because of his bipolar disorder? Are we going to ignore the pure artistry, unprecedented hype, and twenty-year influence that Kanye has had simply because of his character?

In fact, should our perception of Kanye’s character, which originates outside the bounds of his art, affect our interpretation of his art? Though it would be ignorant to stop ourselves from feeling the way we feel about art because of how we feel about its respective artist, it seems to me that it would be equally ignorant to deny the worth of an artist’s work because of something that they never intended to present in their art.

In other words, the intention behind learning about the artist should stem from a desire to develop an educated perspective of their art. Denying an artist of their merit because of their character is not educated. At that point, we’re not engaging with their art; we’re projecting our opinions about the artist onto their art.

With all that being said, just give Kanye a try. It’s not the artist that I enjoy. It’s the music. And I'd be happy to introduce you to his music.