Authenticity in art

Last autumn, I suggested this topic for the January 2026 TCC Art Salon.  I didn’t give any further explication at the time, though what I meant was “What does it mean for a work of art – in any discipline – to be authentic?”

One colleague, who is very concerned about art produced from prompts to AI (artificial intelligence) agents, focused on whether the artist produced the work themselves, versus having asked an AI agent to produce the work from specified parameters. 

Another colleague, a photographer, opined that a photograph’s authenticity hinges on its presentation of what the artist saw, with limited post-shoot modification.

I provided a bit more context:  I often read that really good art is grounded in the creator’s experiences and psyche, and requires the artist to be open to remembering, feeling, and expressing those experiences and psyche.  Is that true, and if so, what does that mean in an artistic process?

A third colleague interpreted this using the phrase “authentic voice.”  He and others went on to elaborate the factors that get in the way of an artist using their authentic voice in their work:

·      thinking about the audience for the work;[1]

·      working on commission for a specific patron;

·      holding back aspects of the self that may be too strong or objectionable to some audiences;

·      repeating a process or theme that you’ve used several times before;

·      knowing exactly what outcome you want.

There’s another part of the claim boldfaced above:  that there is objectively “really good art,” and art that fails to meet that bar.  One artist asked “Who defines ‘good’ or ‘bad’ – shouldn’t it be the viewer?”  She went further – shouldn’t the viewer determine whether the work feels authentic to them?

In a subsequent conversation, a poet friend argued strongly that “good” denotes quality of technique and production, and command of key antecedents of the artist’s work – these are qualities of art that will influence others and stand the test of time.  However, art that isn’t “good” by these standards can still bring joy to the reader or viewer.  Art is indeed a conversation between artist and viewer/listener, and the meaning/import of the conversation depend on both.

If an artist is working quite strictly according to an existing popular (or historic) style, can the work be authentic?  No firm answers to this.  However, participants seemed to agree that when an artist develops their own “style,” they can retain authenticity even when staying within the parameters of that style.

I concluded for myself that authenticity means reflecting the sum total of the artist’s experiences, observations, and emotions – including those that differ from what others might expect from that particular artist.  This yields a certain amount of vulnerability, and a certain amount of originality. 

[1] He went further, suggesting that when you’re contemplating or working on a piece of visual art, the moment you realize that someone else is going to look at it, your process loses some authenticity.  If true, the only way to avoid this is to produce (some) works that you will not let anyone see.

Art is communication

Art of any discipline is communication:

• from the artist’s background, desires, and image-ination, filtered through

• the medium of words, notes, paint, clay – and the artist’s technical ability, to

• the reader, listener, or viewer – but filtered by their backgrounds, hopes, and knowledge.

Thus, arts of any sort are only completed when read, heard, or viewed. That’s one reason why galleries, museums, concerts, and readings are important: They help complete the communication for which art is produced.

However, the audience’s interpretation is aided by – but doesn’t require -- understanding the artist’s background, desires, and imagery. A poem, dance, composition, or painting must be able to speak for itself. But we usually get more of the communication if we understand the origins of the dance form, the conventions of the musical form, the methods, intent, and symbolism of the visual artist.

At a gallery reception or an artist’s talk, you have the opportunity to learn about artists’ background, desires, and imagery.

So please – in the midst of talking with each other, identify a work that captures you, find the artist, and learn more about their motivations. Take the time to come to an artist talk, or listen to a discussion about producing and presenting paintings, sculptures, plays, poems, novels, music.

Dream

in the studio of my friend young Alice,

born of painter and poet.

I admired her deeply.

She encouraged my work.

Her widowed mother

showed us two pieces,

red background, black or blue detail:

on one, rough figures in black, streaked with red,

and a few clearly drawn distractions;

on one, a cerulean circle, bold and smooth.

The difference, she said, was suggestion, the basis of art.

the roughness and red obscured and denied; 

the blue-on-red suggested colors unseen.

She gave us principles – very rare for her:

paint, don't record.

the act of painting must be primary

through visible brushstrokes - even those created by artifice.

Form is key, the major virtue of the work.

Represent by suggestion.

Together we breathed only one word, how.

Deep breath.

Rapidfire:

we know circle, we know sky, sun -- don't draw

do we need circle, or can it be transformed,

folded on itself, present as shadow, present as void?

overpainted, incomplete? 

ovoid imperfection?

Embarrassed by such explicit wordrain, 

she fell Silent. 

color is the gift, the bonus

color suggests things not drawn

color is emotion

color is beautiful.

It is a striking afternoon, I must go.

We paused by the sink:

she touched each of us, ran fingers thru gloss-black hair,

held a small mirror angled toward the ceiling and said

Henry, I'd like a special gift;  nevermind though, I'll pick it up.

Turned to us effusively -- happy thanksgiving.

Mother flinched;

they planned to spend thanksgiving together.

No, thanks can be more thoughtful alone.

I’ll go get my treat, this gorgeous afternoon.