Joan Bennassar is an artist from Pollensa, a lovely town in the east of Mallorca, Spain.  Painter and sculptor, he was recently interviewed on 5th July 2020 by a local newspaper, Diario de Mallorca, before his post-confinement exhibition opened in Pollensa’s Santo Domingo convent.

Some of his observations about art and the art world were timely and thought-provoking. Perhaps the world’s covid-19 pandemic has accentuated the dichotomy, but there is an ever more stark contrast  between trying to make a living as an artist, which frequently means producing art that sells or conforms to a buyer’s requirements, and creating art that remains true to one’s own inner artistic voice and vision. His summation of the situation was that many artists have forgotten about “ethics”, their art is much more about the visual impact rather than anything else and that they are producing art that gallerists deem saleable.

Everyone responds differently to art, but there is, in today’s world, a great deal of art that aims to make an impact, by size, content with a shock value (particularly political) and arresting use of colour. The test for art, Bennassar maintains and I agree, comes with time – time to live with the art and absorb its messages, its deeper meaning, its social and critical implications, its ability to uplift or soothe - so many other potential gifts that a work of art can give. The superficial, aggressive or meaningless do not stand the test of time.  Frequently, walking through museums, one sees a lot of canvases and other types of art that in truth do not stand this test; other artwork endures down the ages.  Immediately one thinks of the Renaissance greats, Dürer, Rembrandt, Titian – the list is long. Even in the 20th century, Cézanne, Matisse, Georgia O’Keeffe or Rothko – amongst many – carry great weight. 

Yet an enormous amount of art handled in recent years through the high-flying galleries and sold to wealthy collectors, often new to art, is in a different category.  I suspect that is the category of art at which Bennassar takes aim. He believes that: “Artwork carries much more impact when the viewer can discover many worlds within it. On a social level, art has become impoverished because people have lost respect for it.” He continued, “This (art) profession is one of risks, but also of ethics.  Obviously we have to eat, but also we need to be proud and coherent. Art is a necessity for the creator, and self-respect as an artist implies that society will respect the art. (An artist) has to offer content, ethics, coherence and  to contribute to society.” This is, of course, particularly the case, when our world is undergoing very serious global challenges, from the economic  and health upheavals caused by the present pandemic to climate change and ensuing societal changes.

When I think of the wide, international world of artists whom I have met and esteem, they all fall into this “ethical” category – in other words, hard-working, serious, creative people who are, sadly, seldom going to get rich from the art they create. Yet they live passionate, interested and interesting lives, each trying in an individual way to create work that enhances the lives of art viewers and collectors. They believe in classical values that underpin functioning societies: equality, justice and liberty, tolerance towards others.  They work hard and think hard about what they are doing. Wildly diverse, such art appeals to difference publics, but it all is vital. Confinement during recent months underscored very clearly the innate need for art in people’s lives. It is part of who each of us is and how we identify ourselves.  Everyone puts images on walls of their home, sooner or later.

The wonderful difference comes when original art hangs on the wall, versus reproductions.  No matter how marvellous a reproduction is, it has somehow lost the soul of the original piece.  That is perhaps part of Bennassar’s description of people losing respect for art?  I don’t know.

All I know is that as another artist, Bennassar’s words resonate with me.  Working away in solitude in a studio, everything one creates is in fact a leap of faith.  You send out into the world an implicit message in a piece of art that will perhaps create a dialogue with a viewer, or even better, a collector, a dialogue that can ideally in some fashion enrich and enhance that person’s world.  Maybe a pious hope, but like Joan Bennassar, one keeps walking along that path in the footsteps of untold previous generations of artists.