The Connection Between the Artist and the Viewer

Is art about what the artist puts into it, what the viewer takes away from it, or the connection that happens somewhere between the two?

In Part One, I started exploring the idea of expression and why we’re drawn to the way other people communicate their thoughts, ideas, and experiences. But the more I think about it, the more complicated the subject becomes.

What exactly happens when an artist creates something and someone else experiences it?

An artist is expressing how he sees the world. But it’s more than simply looking at something and reproducing it. It’s how he interprets what he sees, how he feels about it, and how he translates those experiences into something of his own.

It’s perception, intuition, experience, and sometimes things that are difficult to explain.

I once had someone say to me, “It would be great to see you when you come visit. I want to see the world through your eyes.”

I thought that was a beautiful way of expressing something that I’ve been trying to describe.

That’s what an artist does. He offers someone an opportunity to see something through his eyes. And perhaps that’s what the viewer is looking for, too. They want to experience what the artist sees, how he interprets it, and maybe even feel something of what he felt when he created it.

It’s not always just a visual experience. Sometimes it’s sensory. You stand in front of a painting and experience something that goes beyond simply looking at the image.

Think about standing in front of Vincent van Gogh’s The Starry Night. There’s movement, color, atmosphere, and an entire world of expression happening on that canvas. You aren’t just looking at a night sky. You’re experiencing someone’s interpretation of it.

And that’s where things get interesting.

Perception and Expression

You could have a thousand artists paint the same night sky, and you’d get a thousand different paintings.

Each artist would bring something different to the experience. Their perspective, their technique, their personality, and their interpretation would all influence the result.

That’s perception becoming expression.

Van Gogh had a distinctive way of seeing and expressing what he observed. His brushwork, colors, and movement became part of his visual language. We often associate his work with the emotional struggles of his life, but I don’t think we should automatically assume that every painting was an expression of anguish. Sometimes we need to appreciate what the artist actually created without trying to explain everything through the circumstances of his life.

The same can be said of Picasso.

Consider Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. When people first encountered it, many considered it ugly, disturbing, or even offensive. It challenged conventional ideas about how the human figure should be represented.

Yet it became an enormously important work in the development of modern art.

And then there’s Guernica. Its enormous scale, fragmented figures, and powerful imagery communicate the agony and destruction of war. Picasso wasn’t simply illustrating an event. He was expressing something about it through an entirely different visual language.

These artists weren’t necessarily trying to make everyone comfortable with what they saw. They were exploring possibilities and expressing something through their own perspective.

The Viewer Brings Something, Too

Of course, the artist isn’t the only person involved in this experience.

The viewer brings something of their own. Their background, experiences, interests, and personal preferences all influence how they interpret a painting.

One person might stand in front of a work and be completely captivated. Another might walk right past it.

A thousand people might love something, while a thousand others might not understand it at all.

Does that change what the artist created? Not really.

It changes how people respond to it, but the work itself remains what it is.

And I think that’s an important distinction. Art doesn’t necessarily have to appeal to everybody. Nor does the number of people who like something determine the value of the expression.

Sometimes a work challenges the viewer. Sometimes it takes time to understand. And sometimes people simply don’t like it. That’s part of the experience, too.

Different Artists, Different Languages

I’ve had the opportunity to see works by some of the artists I’ve admired throughout the years. Picasso, Warhol, Hockney, Van Gogh, and others. I’ve traveled specifically to see retrospectives and exhibitions because I wanted to experience their work firsthand.

And then there’s Jackson Pollock.

What was he doing?

You could look at a Pollock painting and say, “What is that? Somebody just spilled paint everywhere.”

But there’s considerably more happening than that.

Pollock developed a way of working that was unlike conventional painting. He often placed his canvas on the floor, moved around it, and poured or dripped paint directly onto the surface. He wasn’t relying on a brush to create traditional lines and shapes. The paint itself became part of the movement.

Think about the energy, momentum, and physical movement involved. The paint travels, overlaps, changes direction, and creates relationships across the canvas.

There’s a rhythm to it. There’s an interaction between the artist, the materials, and the surface.

You can debate whether you like the result, but he developed a visual language that was distinctly his own. And he did it on an enormous scale.

His personal struggles and the circumstances of his life are part of the historical story, but the work itself deserves to be considered for what it accomplished.

That’s another example of how differently artists can express themselves. There isn’t just one way to create something meaningful.

It’s Not Always About What You See

This brings me back to the original question.

Is art about what the artist puts into it, what the viewer takes away from it, or the connection that happens somewhere between the two?

I think it’s all of those things.

The artist brings his perception, experiences, intuition, and ideas into the work. The viewer brings a different set of experiences and interpretations. And somewhere along the way, those two perspectives meet.

Sometimes the viewer sees exactly what the artist intended. Sometimes they see something completely different. And sometimes they discover something in the painting that the artist never consciously recognized.

That’s what makes the experience so interesting.

An artist can spend hours explaining what a painting means, but the viewer might have an entirely different response. Neither experience necessarily cancels out the other.

And perhaps that’s why art continues to invite discussion. We can examine it, interpret it, debate it, and still come away with something new.

In Conclusion: Art Is Its Own Language

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about these ideas, going back to what I learned in college, remembering the artists who influenced me, and considering my own experiences as a painter.

The more I examine it, the more I realize how difficult it is to put everything into a single definition.

You can talk about perception, expression, intuition, style, technique, emotion, and interpretation. You can examine the artist’s intentions and discuss what the viewer takes away.

But sometimes there’s something else happening.

When I’m painting, I occasionally get into a zone where things seem to come together without my having a complete explanation for how or why. I’m making decisions, experimenting, and following something that develops as I work.

Then, months or even years later, I might look at something I’ve painted and wonder, “How did I do that? What was I thinking? Where did that come from?”

And I think that’s one of the beautiful things about creating.

Sometimes even the artist can’t fully explain how everything came together.

You can analyze a painting, discuss its influences, and examine its techniques, but there’s still something that remains open to interpretation.

Art is its own language.

It’s a language we can experience, appreciate, discuss, and debate. We can try to explain it, but we may never completely decipher it.

And maybe that’s exactly what makes it so interesting.