• Breadcrumb navigation uses Javascript

---

Truth and art

by Simon Longstaff

Americans are apparently attending poetry readings in ever increasing numbers. When asked to explain why this should be, the overwhelming response is that the readings offer a unique opportunity to hear the truth being spoken. So much for the credibility of politicians, preachers and pundits!

Now suppose that these same people had been searching for truth in the paintings of Eddie Burrup. What might they say on discovering that 'Eddie' and his works are the creation of artist, Elizabeth Durack? If outraged, would this be a reasonable response? Would they be entitled to feel let down? Would it be understandable if they dismissed their response to the paintings as being somehow degraded?

Ms Durack and her supporters might respond by arguing that any offence would be a nonsense that trivialises the underlying significance of art in general. They could claim that the 'real' identity of the artist is completely irrelevant when assessing the 'truth' to be found in any painting. According to this argument, the significance of Guernica is quite independent of the fact that it was painted by Pablo Picasso.

Now, some might be inclined to dismiss such an argument out-of-hand. But is Beethoven's Ninth any more splendid because he wrote it? Does it matter at all if King Lear was written by William Shakespeare, or any other of the reputed contenders for authorship?

Surely, an audience experiencing these works for the first time and from a different culture will not base their appreciation on the identity of the works' creators. After all, both Beethoven and Shakespeare were initially unknown to their contemporaries. Only the quality of their work allowed them to assume their elevated status. If there is some kind of truth to be found in the work, it matters little who put it there. So the argument goes.

This would seem to be a plausible response. Even so, I suspect that most people would be disappointed if it ever came to light that King Lear had been written by a nineteenth century playwright gifted in the art of imitation. Art opens a window onto a world that may be barred to us by time or our limited experience. As such, we are naturally inclined to trust the artist who introduces us to the unfamiliar. Michelangelo clearly didn't witness the creation of Adam, Miller didn't sit in on the witch trials of Salem and Mozart never blew a magic flute. Yet each artists' identity, in time and space, adds a distinctive kind of authority to his vision.

Bearing this in mind, it is probably fair to assume that a painting, on aboriginal themes, by 'Eddie Burrup' would be invested with more authority than a work that is identical in all respects other than that it has been signed by Elizabeth Durack. The reason for this hinges on an important distinction: 'Eddie Burrup' is not just an artist who happens to be an Aborigine. He is an Aboriginal artist.

Viewing a painting is an act of making meaning in which the viewer 'participates' by interacting with the image. Part of what the viewer brings to a painting is his or her assumptions and beliefs about the artist. When 'Eddie Burrup' paints, the vision which he communicates is judged by the viewer to have a certain kind of authenticity. With this in mind, the viewer approaches the painting with the reasonable expectation that he or she will be able to participate in an 'exchange' which (albeit imperfectly) allows access to the distinctive vision of an Aboriginal elder.

Elizabeth Durack may bring a particular authority of her own to an identical painting. But, to the extent that she masquerades as 'Eddie' the 'exchange' is rendered inauthentic.

It is interesting to speculate that the medium of paint further elevates the sense of betrayal that some viewers may experience when they discover that the artist is not who they thought it to be. Unlike music and literature, paintings clearly bear the marks of their maker. You can see the brush strokes and imagine the hand at work. Discovering that the real hand bears no resemblance to that which has been imagined may be a bit like discovering that your hand-crafted, designer label from Italy has been manufactured in Dapto.

Some might be tempted to dismiss Ms Durack's action as an innocent attempt to explore a series of themes that would otherwise be closed to a white woman. Her invention of an aboriginal artist, 'Eddie Burrup' could be likened to the mild but necessary deception of writers, like George Eliot, who have felt compelled to hide their gender, lest its discovery see their work being ignored as 'illegitimate'. In

Ms Durack's case, she might have felt that nobody would take her 'Eddie Burrup' paintings seriously if offered under her own name. As such, an important avenue of self-expression would have been closed to her.

In other words, it could be argued that the right of an artist to paint in a chosen genre or to explore a particular theme is of more importance than the duty to truthfully disclose his or her identity.

There are a number of potential objections to this argument. For a start, nothing in the argument explains why Ms Durack would have been prevented from painting such pictures under her own name. All we can say is that it is unlikely that her work would have attracted the same attention. But that is hardly the same as making a case for artistic freedom.

But even if the choice were so stark as to be between artistic freedom of expression and the truth, it could be objected that the ends don't justify the means. For a start, there would appear to be something curious about offering a lie as the foundation for freedom of expression.

Alternatively, it might be argued that it is always and absolutely wrong to lie. As such, the defeat of even the most discriminatory taboo cannot justify an act of deception. Of course, this is to invite serious opposition from all who deny that there are absolutes in anything - let alone matters of right and wrong.

Art allows us to go beyond reason to touch the human spirit. Some think that, for all the uncertainty of the world, there is some truth to be found there. Searching in a world that denies the existence of truth is difficult enough. How much harder is it when we begin to lose trust in one of its few remaining sources?

discuss this article

---