Dissanayake makes several interesting points about the process and “construction” of art, namely that it is less a product or object to be regarded and more a way of revering the world around us through a process of “making special,” (p22).

Unlike Dissanayake who suggests, “the reasons that we find a work of art accessible, striking, resonant and satisfying are biologically endowed as well as culturally acquired. They are not merely a matter of playful and shifting interpretations,” (p25) I find myself aligned with a combination of premodern and postmodern perspectives on art. The use of the word “playful” in this context dismisses “shifting interpretations” as somehow juvenile, uneducated, or lacking sophistication or critical thought. Not only do I find that sort of irreverence dangerous and, again, needlessly polarizing, but an inadequate definition of the process of “making special” or “meaning production.”

To explore this concept further we need to first distinguish between the recognition of the act of “making special” and the appreciation for that particular “special.” For example, I recognize a great deal of resources (production, marketing, capital, time, etc) go into producing the cultural phenomenon Keeping Up With The Kardashians, and that allocating this many resources in a singular direction inherently carries value of “special” with it, but it doesn’t mean I appreciate it. My interpretation, defined as an explanation of meaning, is simply that it is garbage — a byproduct of a capitalistic society. An historian, on the other hand, may regard and interpret the same subject as culturally relevant — a kind of social barometer if you will, providing valuable insight into a slice of modern society.

Neither is necessarily more valid or true than the other, and both are merely ways of interpreting information despite what Dissanayake may lead you to believe, “everything is not equally meaningful or valid,” (p25). Qualitative judgments don’t have inherent value — that’s what makes them qualitative, not quantitative. And in the end I believe that is all art is, and perhaps where Dissanayake and I converge: a dialogue between subject/object/concept and the viewer.

To end on a personally relevant note, I remember attempting a crossword with a pen once, more than once, and realizing I had filled in a series of boxes in error. “Oh no,” I thought, “how do I erase this?” Something clicked and instantly I thought, “pen is life” — we can’t undo what’s been done, but we can take what’s already played out and shape it into something else. It will always be there, but we can redefine it. There was nothing “special” about the act of writing with pen, but there was in my elevating it to an analogous plane. The act became worthy of appreciation to me, and took on representational value. I can’t think of a more illuminated example of “playful” and “shifting interpretation.” A passerby would not, likely, perceive the experience as I had — but that wouldn’t preclude it from being art.

Dissanayake, E. (1991). What is art for? In K. C. Caroll (Ed.). Keynote adresses 1991 (NAEA Convention), (pp.15-26). Reston, VA: National Art Education Association.