Refrigerator Art or Complex Math?
“I don’t get it!”
“My three-year-old can do that!”
Abstract art proves at least thing: art is in the subjective eye of the beholder. Even artists won’t always agree on what’s “commercial art” versus “fine art” with little more than vague descriptions like “I know it when I see it.” Some folks love landscapes, while others bemoan the never-ending supply of cotton fields at art festivals.
This debate makes art incredibly fascinating. Art engages us far beyond its technical aspects. Maybe a pattern reminds us of our grandmother’s quilts, or a color reminds of that sunset at the beach last summer, or a stilllife drawing stokes a memory of eating a warm peach at Fourth of July.
Perhaps more often, we connect with art simply because we like it—much in the same way some folks prefer chocolate over vanilla ice cream.
Even science, technology, engineering, and math programs have “rediscovered” value in this subjective engagement of our brain. Art and creative exploration is now a component of STEAM programs (Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, and Math). This doesn’t mean scientists are taught to paint; rather, art education is used to develop critical skills like communication and innovation. Do we want engineers, or do we want visionaries?
Some of this cross-over has become incredibly complex.
Consider Jackson Pollock. If you aren’t familiar with his name, you’ve likely seen some of his work: splatters and drops of paint thrown onto massive canvases. Many of these include handprints, cigarettes, and other items embedded into the paint. This often evokes claims from grandparents “My threeyear-old can do that!” (Of course, we’re hoping that grandparents aren’t really letting the kids play with cigarettes in the paint.)
Even art critics don’t agree. Some may argue that Pollock’s drip paintings are a political rebellion against views on what art “should be” while others will insist they are just another messy drop cloth. Even mathematicians and physicists have stepped into the debate.
That’s right: even mathematicians study Jackson Pollock’s art.
In some cases, it’s the study of fractals and chaos theory or, quite simply, the “butterfly effect.” Chaos studies how small changes can create massive consequences, like when a butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazon and creates a hurricane off the coast of Africa. Of course, that poetic analogy doesn’t give the practical implications. Essentially, chaos (and fractals) looks for patterns and connections in really complicated systems: like storms, snowflakes, movement of asteroids, flight patterns of birds, erosion, and, yes, even Jackson Pollock’s works.
Why is this such a big deal? According to a 2001 Discover Magazine article by Jennifer Ouellette, Pollock’s drip paintings are a visual picture of good mathematics. Physicist Richard Taylor found that patterns in these drip paintings reflected patterns in nature. Did this explain Pollock’s appeal?
Taylor teamed up with psychologists to study the perceptions made by casual observers and found that people prefer fractal patterns, whether or not created by man, nature, or computer, roughly 80% of the time. Why? According to one of Taylor’s collaborators, this may connect to survival needs of our ancestors, such as knowing when the brush is moved by the wind or by a predator.
Of course, all of this fancy work takes us back to the basic point: art is incredibly subjective. People like what they like. But it’s this very intangible quality that we value most. Please be honest: can your three-year-old paint complex fractals? Because when the value of Pollock’s works are reaching 9 digits, some of us may want to buy a few of the drip paintings off your fridge for retirement.