August 8, 2022
Posted by Jay Livingston
Carol Gillot, at her Paris Breakfasts blog, had a post about visiting the Louvre. When she was last there, she sketched some of the art works and added,”It was very common back in the day to copy paintings at the Louvre.” As evidence, she included this 1833 painting of a man (lower left) and a woman (center) each copying one of the many renaissance paintings in the room.
One of the commenters on the blog noted how difficult it was now to see the Mona Lisa. She was right.
Of course. The Mona Lisa is the greatest painting in the world, or at least one of them, and certainly the most famous.
But take another look at that 1833 painting. Look at the lowest row of paintings, especially the one in the middle of the canvas.
Yes, it’s the Mona Lisa. Two hundred years ago, it wasn’t the greatest painting in the world. It was just another very good renaissance painting, good enough to merit a place in the Louvre, But it was not as great as the Titian portrait of Francis 1, which has a position two canvasses higher and closer to eye level.
And now she sits in her own separate room, roped off from the masses who flock to see her beauty and to experience the greatness of the painting. In two centuries, Mona Lisa has raised her game considerably.
Of course that’s ridiculous. The painting didn’t change. But what did? The conventional explanation is that the greatness was always there but that art critics and ordinary people came to perceive and appreciate that greatness only later.
Aside from the arrogance — assuming that we are better at art appreciation than were people in the 19th century — this explanation ignores the social component of tastes and evaluations. Duncan Watts, in Everything Is Obvious ... Once You Know the Answer argues brilliantly and convincingly that the Mona Lisa’s rise to the top depended on two things – luck and cumulative advantage. Luck — in 1911, the painting was stolen from the Louvre. When it was recovered two years later, it was shown all over Italy, and its arrival back at the Louvre was widely covered in the media (or as it was called then the press).
As a result, critics turned their attention to the painting, pointing out all the qualities that made it great and that made the theft and recovery so important. Other people would read these accounts and see for themselves how great the painting was. The snowballing cycle of fame and attention, what social scientists call cumulative advantage, raised Mona Lisa’s position on the charts in much the same way that a song becomes a hit. As it becomes more popular, it gets more air play, and that air play makes the song more familiar and popular, further pushing it up the charts.
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This is much too brief a treatment of Watts’s essay. His tour of artistic successes has stops at the Billboard charts and Harry Potter, all with the same insight. It’s not the qualities inherent in a book, song, or painting that account for its success. There are lots of similar works, indistinguishable in quality, that we’ve never heard of. It’s the lucky break and cumulative advantage that take it from just another painting to GOAT.
I hope you are well, or at least hanging in there. (You did say that posting would be more irregular, though, so I can't say I wasn't warned that there'd be radio silence occassionally.)
ReplyDeleteAlthough more related to your Beatles post than this one, I was listing to an interview with David Bowie, and he argued that the Velvet Underground and Lou Reed were more influential than the Beatles. (Truth in advertising: I think The Velvet Undergroud + Nico is one of the best albums by anyone ever. Imprinting, I guess: I heard them do it live in Boston back in the day.) In thinking about this, it sort of makes sense. At least during the period I was listening to the Beatles (I'm largely missed, and am not fond of, their early work, and only really started listening to louder things after Dylan dragged Mike B. to Newport), they were hyperactively creative; pretty much every song was different/unique/inventive. (Which is your point about early Beatles, that you had to learn what a Beatles song was (in my case, it was Boston area folk/college radio in the late 60s).) But the Velvet Underground and Lou Reed had a sound that people were able to pick up on and run with.
So I think your point that looking at the forces that affect popularity/appreciation/rankings and the like are worth looking into.
Whatever, hang in there.