The Accidental Masterpiece Chapter 2

This second chapter of Kimmelman's The Accidental Masterpiece, entitled The Art of Being Artless, focuses on "art" created by those who are hardly artists, or rather, art marketed to the masses. The chapter starts with a discussion of the history of photography and the ways in which it became widespread (technically the chapter starts with an anecdote to the author's past, but I'll discuss that later). Kimmelman discusses how the camera became a way for people to try to preserve themselves and what they did for posterity, which links back to a theory we discussed last year: all art is inspired by the human fear of death and desire for immortality. He goes on to delve into the ways in which photography was "art-made-easy," recounting instances of other artists who tried to make art simple for the common man. He discusses the extent of this phenomenon, noting that the people who delved into these simple forms of art ranged from common criminals to world leaders. In the end, Kimmelman links it all back to photography, and discusses the theme of the chapter as I interpreted it early on (this is where the anecdote to his past comes in): photographs hold a certain meaning for those who were involved in taking them, especially amateur photographers. When you don't know the people in the photograph, or who the photographer is, the meaning is open to interpretation. I think that's a really powerful point. An amateur photograph taken seventy years ago, if it was taken by a family member or family friend of yours, can have as much meaning to you as a Picasso or a Pollock. Perhaps even more, if you personally knew the subject.

Oh, and one last note: I had to see if I could find any pictures of paintings done by Churchill, which Kimmelman mentioned. And he was right - the old Prime Minister wasn't half bad. Churchill had an excellent eye for detail and the interplay of light with a landscape. In a way, I suppose, that shouldn't come as a surprise.