Recently, I watched Hayao Miyazaki's film Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind. I was immediately annoyed by the fact that the main character appeared to be completely nude underneath her incredibly short dress, frequently revealing her derriere. In response to my irritation, my friend, Jason, sarcastically stated, "Things are different in modern times, Danielle."
What irks me about the use of the term "modern" is that it essentially seems to be a meaningless word. In this context, Jason meant the future time in which Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind is set. As an art historically inclined person (not quite comfortable calling myself an art historian after a mere four years of studying the subject and little to no intention of continuing a formal education in the area), my concept of the term "modern" is in relation to the conceptual art period encompassing such art movements as Cubism and Surrealism.
According to my computer's dictionary (thanks, Apple), modern is an adjective describing something "of or relating to the present or recent times as opposed to the remote past". The dictionary definition also includes an art-specific modification: "denoting a current or recent style or trend in art, architecture, or other cultural activity marked by a significant departure from traditional styles and values: Matisse's contribution to modern art".
Apple's general definition of the word is incredibly vague (as are most definitions, I suppose) and I would argue that the art-specific definition is imprecise to the point of inaccuracy. The provided example of Matisse happens to be accurate, but the art definition could be incorrectly applied to something like Bansky's artworks, which obviously depart from traditional styles and values (here, we run into another problem: what is considered "traditional"?), yet Banksy would never be considered a part of modern art, which ended around 1945. Although modern art is an ideological rather than a time-specific categorization, it is generally agreed that the thrust of modernism ended in 1945, after which point pop art and postmodernism took root.
According to the Museum of Modern Art, modern art began with the Industrial Revolution in the 18th century, citing shifts in subject and style, including an increase in paintings depicting everyday people as opposed to didactic works commissioned by the wealthy or the church depicting mythological or religious scenes as well as the rejection of the idea that all art must be representational and realistic.
Charles Baudelaire is credited with having coined the term "modernity" in the 1860s, and he explores "The Painter of Modern Life" in his famous essay. According to Baudelaire, the following qualities compose the typical modern artist:
1. He or she (but let's be honest, in textbook art historical hindsight, the proper singular pronoun is nearly always "he") composes artworks irrelevant to eternal subjects such as religion or mythology, instead embracing the passing moment as a window into the eternal.
2. His artworks remain unsigned "if by signature you mean that string of easily forgeable characters", yet the artwork is evidently unique and signed in a way by the distinctive mark of the artist's hand, which distinguishes one artist's body of work from another's. This in contrast with academic painting, which exalted realism and smooth brushstrokes, narrowing down the possible distinctive qualities among artists.
3. The modern artist is a "man of the world" rather than simply an artist, meaning that he is interested in current events and the world surrounding him rather than simply "wedded to his palette". This statement resonates well with my introduction to modern art, which was initiated with Gustave Courbet's paintings of everyday people, such as farmers. My professor, leading us around the Musee d'Orsay, emphasized the importance of Courbet's focus on commonplace life as opposed to aristocratically approved subjects, which, in the academic tradition, declared that history paintings (large-format paintings) must depict solely "historic, biblical, mythological or allegorical subjects".
4. Baudelaire claims that modern artists embrace "the special nature of present-day beauty" instead of clinging to relics from the past (such as the Renaissance's attachment to Roman garb).
In his essay, Baudelaire's use of the word modern means to refer to his present-day, just as many people use this word today; however, the word has obviously acquired new, divergent definitions, possibly leading to the very confusing way (in my opinion) that it is often used. For example, how does "modern", which historically refers to the present-day, in Jason's brain, refer to the futuristic setting of Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind? Possibly the instinctive idea here is that, in comparing the era of the Miyazaki movie to today (as in 2014), the future setting takes precedence because that is more contemporary in a weird way... Modern will, in this sense, always refer to what is freshest and newest, so a comparison of a future world to the one in which we currently reside will ultimately result in the admission that the future world's "modern" will take precedence over our current "modern".
So, at this point, I've concluded that "modern" can either refer to modern art (roughly from the 1860s to the middle of the 20th century), in all of its ideological underpinnings, or, in more layman's terms, to the present-day and its associated conventions and trends. The New Yorker's Joshua Rothman, however, offers another unexpected perspective on modernity in his essay "What College Can't Do".
Rothman, in investigating the present-day state of higher education, posits that our contemporary "busyness" is rooted in centuries of the development of modern culture, as displayed by such modern literature as "The Death of Ivan Ilyich", (no, I haven't read this story... I'll just trust Rothman here since 58 pages of Tolstoy seemed a little daunting and unnecessary for my measly blog post) which, despite its late 19th century origins, seems to reflect contemporary issues of workaholic life. Rothman argues that modernity has a dual nature: 1. the more strenuous requirements of our current economic state, which seems even more relevant in recessionary United States and 2. the subdued importance of formerly significant areas (such as religion) in our lives, allowing for increased emphasis on job performance. Thus, in Rothman's eyes, modernity encompasses a certain culture of the preeminence of career-building in the layman's life, transforming "modern" from simply a term indicating the present day to a description of a cultural mentality, one that pervades every aspect of modern life.
"What College Can't Do" concludes that, despite the supposed soul-searching and identity formation that are meant to happen during one's college years, the student must, like Anna Karenina's (I've read at least part of this book... give me some credit here) Levin, "recognize[s] that he cannot pry himself loose from his own era." As opposed to the idea of forming one's own identity, one must, instead, realize the intertwined nature of her life with the culture and conventions of modernity. Rothman's deduction, then, aligns with Baudelaire's claim that the modern artist is consumed by modernity, to such a point that the artist and her contextual circumstances are inseparable.
In his essay, "Liberals Are Killing Art",
Jed Perl contends that the "liberal" (another vaguely meaningless term)
mindset is destroying the autonomous power of art by constantly linking
art to its context, whether historical, political, cultural, etc... But, in the vein of Baudelaire's and Rothman's arguments, the supposed liberal arranged marriage of art to its context is more of a modern quality of art and life rather than a liberal supposition.
To this end, it seems that Baudelairean modernity extends beyond art historical modernism into contemporary life, becoming more of a cultural era of modernity that penetrates all aspects of life. As Rothman ponders, "maybe modernity, like modernism, is just a historical period". Culturally, we are inclined to see issues, events, and artworks as smaller parts of an inseparable braid of history. Banksy's artworks, for example, are both a result of the times (his reaction to the elite institutionalization of art) as well as influential upon the near future (street art as more accepted in the art world, his artworks torn down to be sold in the elite art world economics that he seeks to critique).
Perhaps I haven't reached completely clear definitions of the terms modern, modernity, and modernism, but, hopefully, I've raised some questions and you all will think about the word "modern" more before the next time you use it, in case you happen to be talking to a crazy person such as myself that finds such things highly disturbing.
We concluded that Nausicaa wears pants that very closely resemble her skin color, by the way.
Nice!
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