I have always been interested in the process of identifying master works. Those pieces or artists that generation after generation are deemed worthy of our attention. It seems obvious that as time goes on, historians and critics play a larger role in the things we consider and value from the past.
Due to our limited capacity, however, we tend to focus on a few examples from each given time period. Music critic Chuck Klosterman’s book, But What If We Are Wrong?, ponders how history will reflect on rock and roll. Will it favor Elvis who was a masterful charismatic music personality, a performer embracing show biz, male sexuality, drugs, gluttony and the conscious theft of Black culture? Or, will history favor Bob Dylan, the Jewish intellectual singer songwriter from Minnesota who embodied lyrical authenticity, intellectual craft, folk traditions and who excelled despite his singing voice – becoming a powerful symbol of substance triumphing over style?
Klosterman purports that “history happens as it happens” and that we construct what we remember, as well as what we forget.Napoleon seemed to agree with this view, describing history as a set of lies that we agree upon. So the burning question is:
What makes us remember the things we remember? How much of notoriety is truly due to the merit of things? Quite frankly, it is depressing to think that quality does not factor heavily into this equation. Klosterman insightfully suggests “to matter forever, you need to matter to people that don’t particularly care.” This observation dovetails into my theory about museum gift shops. My idea is that most people that visit museums know very little about art and visit out of some vague cultural obligation – perhaps a dull fear of missing out on something they don’t quite understand. Therefore the gift shop has the greatest influence, structuring their visit through a familiar, predictable and comfortable consumer experience. People that don’t really care about art identify and understand great art by what works have been printed in an art book, on a t-shirt, coffee mug and yes … a pair of socks.