A Historian Walks into An Art Fair

I walked into the main hall of Miami’s Art Basel this month with some friends to explore the art world. The enormous warehouse was filled with paintings, sculptures, and all the other objects considered art. Honestly, as a historian - my chosen academic field - I couldn’t make sense of it from where I stood. Without the context of place, time, and a narrative that provided meaning to the art, the scene seemed mysterious and unintelligible. Historians are all about context, and without that, art, even if pleasing to the eye and impressive in terms of craft, can make no sense at all.

​Actually, art isn’t about making sense. Jerry Salz says in How to Be an Artist, “…art doesn’t have to make sense. Art is like birdsong: it’s made of patterns, inflections, shadings, shifts—all things that have emotional and perceptual impact, even if we can never really translate their meanings. Every work of art is a culture-scape of you, your memories, the moments you spent working, your hopes, energies, and neuroses, the times you live in, and your ambitions. Of the things that are engaging, mysterious, meaningful, resistant over time.”​

As a historian, this made no sense to me until now. I think Salz is right. And historians revolt over such nuances of meaning, especially if it includes their own personal emotions. So how does a historian make sense of the art world? Well, I’m learning now.