All types of art are capable of providing information about a society. Yet, the task of acquiring knowledge from fine art requires a different approach than that employed in examining works classified as utilitarian or decorative art. Artists in each classification have their own logic for decision making. To facilitate entry into fine art thinking and avoid being misled in fundamental ways, archaeologists must understand the principles that define and govern each art category. The traditional intent of a craft like ceramics is to serve a utilitarian function and its ability to act in this capacity is essentially dependent upon the skill of properly shaping a vessel to correspond to its task. Neither its exact manner of construction (by hand or wheel, coil or slab) nor the significance of imagery glazed on its surface changes its primary role 'to contain', though it may add to its value. Ceramicists must think and construct art according to certain patterns of form, such as vases, cups or bowls. Each category of objects within utilitarian art such as amulets or fetish statuettes has a prototypal form that relates to its purpose, whereas fine art has no such requirement.
The fundamental principle of fine art is to speak about ideas and the way in which fine artists think and create objects is free from predetermined constraints. Although categories of fine art are defined according to materials and grouped into major divisions according to two-dimensional--flat, three- dimensional--sculptural, or four-dimensional--time-based objects, these classifications are organizational, rather than restrictive. Fine artists often cross major divisions and work in mixed or new media. For example, vases created during the Greek Archaic period are an anomaly to the paradigm of utilitarian art since they not only serve 'to contain', but also to communicate ideas. An examination of this apparent inconsistency reveals both the Greek's high regard for aesthetics and the explanation that fine artists usually created the paintings on the vases made by potters (Wilkins and Schultz 76). Though Greek vase painting differs greatly from the work of modern artist Pablo Picasso, he too painted on ceramic objects made by others. Contrasting ancient fine art forms such as paintings and stone or metal sculptures with contemporary fine art forms such as computer art, video imagery, and holograms, it is possible to see that as the culture transforms, its changes are visible in the structural forms of fine art. On the other hand, when viewing samples of prehistoric pottery and comparing them with their contemporary counterparts, these art forms must remain much the same. The tremendous changes in fine art, illustrated by its current use of electronic information and lasers indicate its mandate to both reflect and create new perceptions of the cultural concerns and developments of the society; its ideas, materials, and tools. However, form alone is insufficient to classify objects into an art category. Frequently, art that serves a decorative function is confused with both utilitarian and fine art because of its similar appearance. However, the function of decorative art is the form itself. It is not compelled to fulfill either a utilitarian task or address concepts that exemplify its historic period. Decorative artists think and produce works of art for the primary purpose of pleasing 'the eye' of the viewer.
Fine art proceeds from a different perspective than either utilitarian or decorative art and utilizes form to fulfill its function to communicate ideas. Structured as intrinsically with visual language as with physical materials, each fine art object is unique and characteristically limited in production. Communication would appear redundant if fine artists, like utilitarian and decorative artists, were to produce unlimited numbers of the same object. Once an idea is assimilated into the culture there is no longer a need to discuss it unless artists are more clearly defining or redefining it. Therefore, archaeologists should be aware that an artifact produced in any way by formula is not fine art. The fine artist's creative thinking/problem solving process is continuous from the moment of conception until a piece is complete. The methodology is a constant arranging and rearranging of the variables that compose a work. Each arrangement not only carries its own coded meaning, but also impacts in relation to other variables and ultimately on the impression of the whole piece. Everything is thought of in terms of context. Consequently, as a general guide, archaeologists should consider no mark within a work unimportant and only define its meaning in relation to the whole piece.
Fine artists speak about ideas by shaping them into forms in perceptual space. These semblances of reality are compositions of visual language that viewers perceive and respond to as communication. "The function of 'semblance' is to give forms a new embodiment in purely qualitative, unreal instances, setting them free from their normal embodiment in real things so that they may be recognized in their own right, and freely conceived and composed in the interest of the artist's ultimate aim-- significance, or logical expression" (Langer 50). Artists code visual language, using the elements of design: line, shape, color, texture, space, light, balance, etc. to construct visual cues which viewers decode resulting in a 'cognitive interchange'. The syntax of these elements are used to express various topics and to describe feelings about them in different ways, styles. For example, in the early 1500s during the Italian Renaissance, Michelangelo spoke about religion in his paintings for the Sistine Chapel, using colors that were bright but appeared subdued by distance and candle light, classical harmonious lines, and highlights to detail figures in a Neo-Platonic style. During Napoleon's invasion and occupation of Spain in the early 1800s, Francisco Goya talked about war in a Neo-Baroque style with "blazing color, broad fluid brushwork, and dramatic nocturnal light" (Janson 479). While each of these artists used different verbal languages and created their work in different centuries, literacy of visual language and its universal qualities has remained consistent over time and across cultures. Its components are both perceived, thought about, and utilized to structure and organize works of art now as in the past. Conscious recognition that meaning in fine art is coded in a visual language system allows archaeologists to apply artists' methods of coding to decode communication from the ancient past.
One cannot ask the prehistoric fine artist questions about the creative process, but one can ask the contemporary fine artist. If one questions "native craftmakers" or "native artists", there are two problems. First, there is the cognitive difference between the processes of utilitarian, decorative, and fine art. Second, if one interviews the "native artist" it is filtered through the viewpoint of anthropologists, much like contemporary art critics, with all their theoretical and substantive preconceptions. Frequently, prehistoric art is more sophisticated ethnographic art and one wishes to understand the cognitive processes at the level of its creative sophistication. Thus, this paper is an endeavor to create an "interview with a prehistoric fine artist" by providing direct access to a contemporary fine artist and the universal thinking and methodologies that link them.
Topics very often deal with universal concepts. For example, "fertility" has been a continuous topic for artistic discussion because of its intrinsic relationship to human survival, humanity's desire to gain control over it, and the important part it plays in male/female relationships and their roles in relation to the society. Prehistoric artists thought about fertility for themselves and their food sources as seen by the discovery of numerous reliefs and statuettes of female figures with enlarged breasts, abdomen, hips, and thighs, and "...by the custom of annually reburying stone and clay representations of fertile goddesses in the fields to encourage crops to grow... . In Brittany, Ireland, and Cornwall, through the last century woman and couples desiring children would touch, caress, and worship the prehistoric [references to male fertility] standing stones..." (Lippard 16). An example of a paleolithic statuette from Lespugue (Gardner 42) is especially worthy to note because it atypically shows a female described as an individual, contains both male and female references to fertility, and its expressive construction indicates a very creative, sophisticated mind. Contrasting this statuette with the one found at Willendorf, Austria (Wilkens and Schultz 39) reveals very different attitudes toward the subject even though both pieces stay within the boundaries of the particular style-- bulbous body standing erect, arms bending at the elbows, hands placed on the front of the torso. The Willendorf statuette stands stiffly erect like a nameless soldier at attention. The lack of curvature to the body except to define female parts acts to juxtapose and heighten their roundness. The sculptor has the technical facility to define the shape of a face with detail-- nose, lips, etc., as seen by the careful attention given to repeating intricately carved nobs defining the hair, but chose to leave both the face and neck out of the work which indicates the figure symbolizes a group. Instead, the hair, similar to a helmet, is hiding her identity and individual importance. Though the hair is notable, its repetitious pattern allows viewers to quickly understand its description, encouraging them to gaze downward with the message that again the head is not the place to attend. The artist's decision to place the arms across the top of the breasts acts as a horizontal marker to keep the viewer's eyes from moving about that line once more, emphasizing the body is the place to look and that the most significant aspect of the group this figure represents is it sexuality. However, the Lespugue statuette is more like the portrait of a person. The hair is away from a face that is described and there is a gentle curve to the slim neck and shoulders. The hands rest on the abdominal area establishing a mother/child relationship. While the curves of the neck and shoulders draw the viewer's eyes downward, the lower placement of the arms do not restrict movement back to viewing the head and gazing upon the person. The front view of the statuette shows an obviously pregnant female, while the back view reveals a reversible image. The lower back half of the figure may be viewed as buttocks and legs or scrotum and penis. The sculptor clearly incises a deep line dividing the legs in the front, but purposefully does not make the division of the legs in the back. From the thighs down, back view, the surface is treated as a single unit, textured with many lightly incised vertical lines. Since skin is depicted smoothly everywhere else on the figure and the shape of the penis can be read without texture, it is likely that the lines are meant to identify a male's flow of semen. Thus, this artist de-emphasizes the general sexuality of females and appears to transfer its identity to pregnancy in individual females. Furthermore, playing with the viewer's cognitive processes by constructing a piece that simultaneously presents two visual perspectives in one work of art, the sculptor suggests that fertility should be considered a union--equally male and female. Indeed, you can not view fertility as a representation of either gender alone because the artist created an object that disallows it.
Because of its importance, the idea of 'fertility' continues to be seen in artwork today. Barbara Nessim, a well known artist living in New York, has been inspired to create paintings with references to in vitro fertilization. One work shows a woman holding an egg up in the air to examine it, while around her there are several other eggs and inside each one there is a different male figure. The fact that Nessim chose the image of a bird egg for a symbol to represent this topic for the viewer is similar to other contemporary artists' thinking. But the addition of a figure inside each egg, viewed as if the shell is transparent, is identical to the cognitive processing of a Neolithic artist who lived in northern Yugoslavia in 6000 B. C. This artist also used the image of the bird egg, but shaped it into a stone sculpture and created a figurative relief on its surface. Like Nessim's arrangement, the figure appears to be contained within the egg, though visible to the viewer. The sculpture is documented as an egg-shaped, fish-faced water divinity (Lippard 15) and references to the fish and its fertility are placed in the context of an oval, rather than a round fish egg, using the same logic and reference as a contemporary artist.
Frequently, universal topics are overlaid with new perspectives produced by physical location and, or time period. For example, an artist's decision to speak about fertility of the land or fertility of fish would depend on location. The shift today to a world with advanced scientific knowledge and dense population produces topics related to fertility, such as 'contraception', 'sterilization', and 'abortion'. Archaeologists should first look for universal themes in their analysis of fine art and then consider how external influences change primary topics and also create related subjects.
There are occasions when secondary variables, such as tools or materials become the primary inspiration because artists readily invite anything intriguing into their minds. Exceptions of this kind may indicate a new technological development or the unique quality of a material. For example, the European invention of movable type had a great affect on artists. Because of this invention, inexpensive paper was developed in the mid- fifteenth century due to the demands of the new publishing industry. Artists like Leonardo Da Vinci could create numerous sketches in a more spontaneous manner than predecessors who ha been working on expensive vellum (Wilkins and Schultz 250). The process of 'making marks' is often a source of inspiration. The fact that during this period there is a profusion of sketches and previously drawings were fewer and very controlled would indicate a major change that would need examination. Tracing back, the invention of the press would be discovered.
During the 1960s few people other than scientists had access to computers. Given the rare opportunity to create art with this equipment, I became so inspired by the computer's power to process information and its ability to control other equipment that exploring the possibilities of a tool with memory took precedence over the selection of content. My art documented the way computers affect seeing, thinking, and constructing art and foretold of its impact on the culture at large. Micro-computers which solidified today's information society were not even invented until 1976. Yet, I and a few other fine artists living in technologically developed countries around the world were independently inspired and making art with the tool that would change society's way of perceiving the world, just as it had ours.
There is no one way to pinpoint how inspiration is initiated except to relate it is usually derived from ideas, tools, or materials within the culture. It is more than likely that a magnificent wall of stone properly located can be an ideal source of inspiration for a sculptor. The wall takes precedence over the drive to find an idea because it provides an unusually fine and permanent platform for the artist's dialogue. In addition, its great size, propitious location, and permanence gives the artist the opportunity to reach as large an audience, for as long a time, as possible. In a case like this, the sculptor would carefully collect information based on an analysis of the wall's size, surface, and location and then search for the concept and plan its construction appropriate to the wall's configuration during the next stage of development.
Since artists proceed in a completely open system and there are many kinds and levels of inspiration, their methodology could be termed a hunting and gathering process. While hunting for an inspiration which will spur a major set of problems for its resolution, the artist will also be gathering solutions to problems that do not yet exist. This is the period when the artist is physically out in the world, so that part of the decision making strategy involves collecting anything that could possibly solve future difficulties. The reasoning for this behavior is that during the stages of gestation and construction, the artist becomes self-isolating to cognitively fix on the project. Breaking the rhythm of concentration, especially during the construction stage means losing momentum and thus entails the struggle of regaining it. Consequently, not wishing to be distracted while constructing, the artist relies heavily on using answers already stored in the mind. Since there is no way of knowing what problems will arise later on, collecting solutions is extensive in the inspiration stage. For example, a painter may see a color in nature that is inspiring. But a color by itself, a facet of visual language, is usually not enough to move on to the next phase of developing a future work. Thus, in this instance, the brain isolates the color, removes it from its present context, and considers a number of ways of placing it in other settings before storing it away (Arnheim 38). This cognitive processing is similar to the thinking of the artists who removed the egg from the context of a bird and used its association with fertility in a new context. Both of these cases illustrate the capability of the creative process to render things transmutable. No cultural trait is inherently fixed, unless the artist chooses it remain so. However, if the artist selects a portrayal of ideas without symbolic representation, this choice would demand fixed relationships. Color and its application in specific patterns, along with other attributes of the culture, are means of identification for the viewer. For instance, the outline defining the shape of a zebra is hard to distinguish from the outline defining the shape of a horse until certain colors are applied in a particular way to reveal that identity. Resolved to relay that information, color would be kept in context. For the artist, the act of observing is also to consider how to produce whatever is observed. Again, if the creative eye focuses on a hue, in addition to its use, the mind is also thinking about how to produce the pigment for it. But at this stage, the length of time devoted to these types of inspirations and their problem solving is brief because color, like shape or line is only a design element, only a part of whole work of art. However, it is important for the artist to collect as many parts, variables as possible for problem solving later on, so these observations are sent along with a multitude of other bits of information into the cognitive storehouse for future reference.
Asleep or awake, the mind is preoccupied with defining the characteristics that will describe the future work. The selection and use of each of the elements of design: shape, line, color, light, texture, scale, space, and balance is considered very carefully. For example, the curve of a line gives an entirely different meaning than a straight one. For the moment, assume that major inspiration has been found in a concept that deals with feelings. A feeling needs embodiment, so the artist must retrieve referents from the cognitive storehouse that give substance to this immaterial subject. Identification for the viewer is dependent upon the artist providing as many connections to the concept as possible. Referents can be images of things like an animal or activities like hunting. Indeed, the referent may be a human being, but until the shape is defined it would be impossible to decipher as a human form. Even with outline description, gender, age, any of the qualities that make this person physically unique or reveal personality are missing. The descriptives in visual languages are coded by the way the elements of design are used.
At the least sophisticated level, the artist retrieves prime logical connections such as the universal perception of the color yellow with the sensation of warmth (Cirlot 52). Primary coding is used with all the elements of design. A yellow circle representing the sun can be encoded further using only simple associations. For example, if the outline of the circle describing the sun is smooth it gives a very different impression than one that is jagged. In addition, the scale, size of this shape and its relation to the horizon line, its spatial location on the picture plane, can relate the intensity of heat and even the hour of day. In fact, the placement of a horizontal line impacts on the viewer's primary spatial context so overwhelmingly that if the yellow circle were placed below this line it would no longer represent the sun. Although this coding reflects only the most elementary visual communication, it also means that the fundamental sensations a viewer feels at first perceiving a piece of fine art are probably accurate. Artists instill these qualities in the work knowing the viewer will have an involuntary response. Yet, these universal primaries are layered again even ancient cultures. The number of layers and their complexity relate to the sophistication of the society. Utilitarian communication could be limited to primaries, but creative cognitive interchange is meant to stimulate the thinking of the viewer about such issues as values within the culture.
It is possible for a color to represent more than a design element, but it must be linked to a concept and become a symbol for it. Its presentation in this format implies that the artist is aware that observers connote certain feelings or ideas with it. This, in fact, is likely because "color is one of the most universal of all types of symbols"(Cirlot 51). Since it is an inherent part of the world, it is an inescapable part of human perception and cognition. The high correlation between what is out there and what the artist uses in the art is important for the archaeologist to note. However, it is only because the sun is such a universal percept in our world that yellow remains associates with light and warmth, based on the most elementary logic (Ibid 53). Very few colors have retained a consistent meaning since prehistoric times, but it is a universal method for artists to code color with meaning. Since most color symbolism is culturally based, evidence of its signification is found in consistent specific use by artists within the society. But if there is only one artifact from which to judge,clues to interpretation within a singular work relate to its relative role in the composition.
A hue may be inspiring for the artist, but it is more likely that in trying to establish the feelings or ideas associated with it that color is used to reinforce those meanings in a new context. The artist frequently takes what is known and uses it with an unknown to evoke similar thoughts and feelings. Thus, what is signified is more powerful than the signifier and it is the initial source of inspiration. Fine artists are either bringing up new ways of thinking about these concepts or recording what already exists. Therefore, primary associations are overlaid with cultural coding because the fine artists must correlate imagery and its presentation in a way that the viewer understands. Not only must the artist attend to the symbolic meaning that an element represents, but also how these elements form an aesthetic image. Keep in mind that each element is a variable with subsets of variables. A line for example may range extensively in its width, length, or smoothness and each of these variations contain different description qualities. The artist takes stock of whatever information is stored in relation to the inspiration and uses creative flexibility to play with the variables stores in the mind to imagine the final work. However, manipulating all of this information is only part of the task.
The artist must plan how to translate the intangible into the tangible. Some problems are resolved simply by deciding whether the object is to be a two or three- dimensional form. The category helps determine, sometimes prescribes the materials and the tools. However, depending on the idea, there may be a need for new equipment and it will be thought about at this time as well. Artists today, like the ancients, continue to invent new materials and tools and if not attending to this task themselves are frequently the impetus for technological advancements by others.
Cyril Stanley Smith, Professor Emeritus at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, has written extensively on the inventiveness of artists and gives proof that discipline after discipline had its roots in the arts. Documenting this in an article entitled Aesthetic Curiosity ---- The Root of Invention he states, "Most minerals and many organic and inorganic compounds were discovered for use as pigments. Indeed the first record that man knew of iron and manganese ores is found in the prehistoric cave paintings where these ores provided the glorious reds, browns, and blacks." He relates that "Metallurgy began with the making of necklace beads and ornaments in hammered, naturally - occurring copper long before "useful" knives and weapons were made." In addition, alloying and heat methods that improved and allowed the shaping of metal started in jewelry and sculpture, while casting in complicated moulds began with making statuettes and welding was first used to join parts of sculpture. On and on he lists technological advancements that exemplify the inventiveness of the ancient artistic mind. (Smith 1)
The extraordinary amount of time given to developing equipment as well as producing works of art makes it even more probable that ancient, like contemporary artists, devoted time to thinking about preserving these efforts. The ancient painter, for example, not only had to devise methods for drawing lines and producing color. But since many organic and inorganic pigments are difficult to apply directly and many easily wash away with rain, the mind had to solve a way for line and color to spread easily on the picture plane and solve a method for preservation. It is impossible to say for certain, but the location of prehistoric paintings within caves or under overhangs on exterior walls could relate to preservation, even though the animal fat used for a medium with pigment would tend to decrease the eradicating effects of rain water, the interior of a cave or overhang would protect the work better. In any case, during gestation, ancient and contemporary artists think about a wide range of problems that directly or indirectly affect the creation of the work and these deserve consideration when attributing meaning.
Back track for a moment now and recall the sculptor inspired by the magnificent stone wall. This artist already has the material, but must find an idea appropriate to wall's size, surface, and location. In this situation, the inspiration helps define the idea by its restrictive qualities. Intending to create a large sculptural relief for a public audience, the problems this artist encounters are quite different from a second sculptor planning a smaller free standing piece. First, art that speaks to the entire population requires topics and dialogue that are important to the society at large such as economical, political, and social values. In other words, the art must be especially laden with cultural references and is therefore particularly capable of giving the archaeologist insight into the general attitudes of the society. Smaller objects, such as the second artist is planning, may also refer to public concerns, but it is not mandatory. The smaller the object, the more probable it is to address more specific or personal topics. Second, the imagery in a large scale work demands more formal planning. Sometimes a sculptor will "see" an image in the topology of the stone, but this wall is so large that happenstance of this nature is unlikely to occur enough times to cover the entire surface. Third, reliefs contain a foreground that pinpoints subject matter and a background for context in a manner like paintings. Also like paintings, a relief may contain a sequence of events utilizing the element of time for story telling, so the topic can be treated in a more expansive way. The artist creating a free standing art piece, on the other hand, must convey information about the subject from all aspects in space. So that in ancient times, the complexity of this problem fixes time in space and reduces the scope of the subject matter, but not necessarily the intricacy of its portrayal. Since the date processing and collecting brought into the gestation stage restricts and helps define the subject matter for the sculptural wall relief, it is important to examine this information more carefully now.
The artist's perception of size, surface, an location also include the following considerations. The size of the wall indicates the scale of the image, the depth of relief that is possible, and the distance for viewing which influences the selection of the concept and its treatment. Surface analysis helps determine the subject matter, style, and tools, based on whether the topology is flat, smooth or irregular, and the ease of penetrating the stone. Location analyzes accessibility for the artist to work the amount and frequency of viewer traffic flow, and the amount and direction of light for illumination. Location either affirms or disallows site selection. The archaeologist should, as does the artist, consider to what degree material impacts on the idea and its presentation.
A large scale work is a very complex problem. The sculptor working on this wall is obviously experienced and putting inordinate time and effort into a work that no on will see or that is not going to last is illogical from an artist's point of view so that the site's traffic flow must be good. Artists today argue with curators about location and lighting of installations simply within the site of a museum. In all probability the ancient site is located where the population is either based or is a route for travel. This is not an unreasonable assumption. Fine artists can only be found where a society is capable of their support and the fine arts are needed for cultural stimulation and growth. Thus, the sculptor would like the work to be a marker for the essence of this society.
The question for the sculptor is what unifies the thinking of this culture most? Is this bond: feelings such as fear, cosmic or religious beliefs, the political power structure, the economy, or a social issue such as the role of males and females? After determining a topic the artist must select vehicles to transmit this idea. Vehicles, the referents, are the things most obscured by time for the archaeologist. Frequency of use by all artists within the society, importance of placement and scale in the picture plane, and the manner of depiction so that emphasis is given with color, line, and texture within imagery can help identify referents from their contextual background. The sculptor must think about these references and select which activities, professions, or images most symbolize the selected idea. Next, the decision must be made how to portray this vehicle. First the artist must decide if it is to be figurative--a recognizable representation of something as it exists in the world or non-figurative, or a combination of both. If any selection is non-figurative, for example a geometric configuration, it would have to be an emblem or sign that represents the convictions of the community and understood as such. In this case it could act like a country's flag making a territorial statement as well as a symbol of unity. However, it is doubtful that this emblem alone would be used for this particular site, though it may be incorporated into the total image. Imagine that a figurative vehicle is selected instead. The artist must then decide whether this figurative imagery is to be shown in a realistic, abstract, expressionistic, or geometric, etc. manner. Each of these selections codify the concept with more or less feeling. The final type of coding at this state is topic treatment. For example, imagery may be incised in an exaggerated mythological way, straight forward realism, or there could be a juxtaposition of vehicles to give insight, or perhaps an unreal topic is given a realistic treatment. Whichever representation is selected during gestation, its realization will be achieved by how the elements of design are applied in actual construction.
Archaeologists should note that the technological sophistication of the society is written into objects. Cyril Smith is correct in stating artists invent, but they also appropriate anything of interest into their work. For example, sculptors today use neon, plexiglas, and electronically controlled devices in their work. Artists acquire known materials, seek new ones, and invent the rest. Finally, when all these are assembled, feasibility studies are run on everything. Depending on the discipline, studies range from mixing preliminary sets of colors to preparing rough models for sculptures. However, it is rare for the results of these experiments to be immediately successful. For example a contemporary artist may have trouble controlling the movement of a sound activated sculpture. Until each problem is solved, artists produce many studies that are thrown away. An ancient sculptor, for instance, may have questioned whether the clay for a statue would dry without crumbling or cracking. A number of preliminary figures, each with a different composition of clay would have been made, left to dry and examined for flaws. Archaeologists can recognize the difference between what is throw-away or artifact by realizing artists do not take time to include details in these feasibility studies. Thus, what is normally expected in a final work is missing.
However, today a great variety of preliminary studies in different fine art disciplines are run on computers and then the information is erased. In the future, tracing the physical processes of developing a work may be more difficult than examining prehistoric endeavors where there are, most probably, remains of these preliminary studies.
Once all the tools and materials are defined, work on the art object can begin. It is a universal situation that each discipline and particular project varies and requires specific thinking processes and approaches. Analysis of art objects must consider some of these specific issues when examining work. In addition, Fine art language is coded in an expressive, rather than a journalistic manner, so that reality may be slightly askew from the archaeologist's and anthropologist's point of view. Artists interweave perceptions of the external world with internal beliefs, so that their feelings in describing something may override objectivity. Fine artist not only subjectively reflect their view of the environment, but interpreted it again, taking artistic license with how that information is presented. Archaeologists should be aware that only an artist working in the field can know that the treatment of some thing is due to technical problems, rather than a way of communicating a concept.
Assume the proposed piece is a large realistic, figurative painting. First, a preliminary drawing is made outlining the entire image. This will be drawn in something like charcoal, so that it can be reworked easily. The strategy at this point is to attend to the distribution of shapes, division of space, and balance. This general impression comes first and details later. The three most universal divisions of space on the vertical plane locate, top--sky, middle--land, and bottom--ocean. Shapes are ranked in importance from the highest in the center to least import on the edges. These are the norms so that each division has expected subject matter. For example, in the normal world birds fly in the upper portion representing the sky, people walk on the middle section symbolizing the earth, and fish swim in the lower picture plane. It is noteworthy when the artist places expected objects in unexpected positions, in other words uses juxtaposition.
Imagery may be transformed in any number of ways for the sake of making the art more imaginative or visually pleasing. The artist may, for instance, flip an image up/down or left/right, change scale, rotate an object, expand or compress a shape, reduce or embellish pertinent expected position on the picture plane. Each of these techniques contribute to meaning.
Artists may depict the same type of imagery or symbols in different works, but if variations on a theme are found, each must be distinctive enough so that one work is not a replica of another. For example, Joseph Albers, a leader in American Hard-edge Abstract painting uses the same geometric imagery to discuss visual illusions. He shows how deceptively different spatial relationships can appear by changing the value and position of color, while retaining the same image of squares in each of his Homage to the Square paintings. Fine artists often retain the same imagery in many works that examine a single issue. Repetition removes the need for continued visual detection and examination, thereby releasing and simultaneously directing the viewer's mind to observe and think about the ideas where changes do occur. Moreover, Alber's message would be the same even if he had used an image that was also a symbol and enriched with its own meanings. The French Impressionist painter Claude Monet, for example, depicted the Cathedral Of Rouen in a serial manner. He used the same image of this cathedral in a number of different paintings so he could talk about how the intensity of light from dawn to twilight changes the impression of its view. The image of a church would usually be linked with a society's concept of religion, but repetition of any imagery diminishes its own specific meaning. Thus, how images are used is often more important that the images themselves.
However, whether research of fine art is from an artifact or a cognitive approach both methods require scholars to dispense with the presumption that a visual language system is less emphatic proof in distinguishing human cognition and knowledge than a verbal language system. Cynicism of fine art domes from those who are unaccustomed to visual thinking and cannot see 'the marks' in this language are as meaningful as the language they feel most familiar with. Throughout history fine artists have played important roles in the culture. For example, though there were newspapers during the time of the French revolution to help develop the new political construct, the actor Talma used David's painting of "Brutus" to inspire his audiences when he was on stage and also carried this art work for all to see when he led bands of citizens through the streets (Schama 494). Moreover, earliest prehistoric artifacts are documented visually, rather than as written lingual records of human cognition. Yet artists make no claim on which methodology came first or which is of greater importance. Simply, it is a misconception to underestimate the value of visual artifacts and the thinking of the artists who made them. There is a lack of conformity in fine art because these artists are communicating ideas. Thus it is imperative that the analysis of fine art must be made by those who think in a visual language system. Archaeologists must recognize that the methodologies of fine artists can not be broken down in the manner of pottery or tool making and it would be valuable to invite artists to aid in the analysis of artifacts.
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