People often say, as if it’s an indisputable, self-evident truth, that “art is just self-expression.” Actually, it isn’t. Self-expression is “I’m hot,” or “I’m hungry,” or “I’m sad.” And since one’s feelings belong in a diary or in a boring conversation, how you “feel” is the least important part of creating art, that is, if you want to create something that has to do with the world of other people instead of just yourself.

The common misconception of art as self-expression creates a lot of problems, not the least of which is sappy poetry. But more importantly, if we think of art as merely or primarily about the artist’s feelings, then what role is left for art to have any positive, public impact?

My former English prof Ryan Knighton tells his classes that the personal essay is the most powerful form of writing. But even though it’s “personal”, he says, the writing has to be about something beyond yourself, i.e.: the world outside. Of course, art of any kind comes from a person’s mind, but we all know how corny a piece of art can be when it’s simply a this-is-how-I-feel/this-is-my-message type thing, whether it’s overtly personal or pretentiously political (to see what I mean, check out some slam poetry).

I recently came across a nice anecdote. A student asks their art teacher, “How do I know when the piece is done?” The teachers says, “When you can stand back, look at it and say, ‘I did that?’” The point is you want the artwork to be able to stand on its own two feet, without having to explain what you were feeling when you created it. After all, the audience shouldn’t have to rely on the artist’s biography to make sense to the art.

Here’s a wonderful quote from Northrop Frye: “The poet’s task is to deliver the poem in as uninjured a state as possible, and if the poem is alive, it is equally anxious to be rid of him, and screams to be cut loose from his private memories and associations, his desire for self-expression, and all the other naval-strings and feeding tubes of his ego.”

In other words, a piece of art is like a baby, and you want a baby to walk and talk on its own, to be its own person, free from domineering parents giving constant guidance. You want the art/baby to grow up, be independent, and interact with others without having its hand held or its creator explaining for them. The artist, like the parent, must let go, however hard it is, of the thing it gave birth to.

In a creative writing class it’s difficult to criticize people’s work, mostly because everyone assumes art is personal, and, of course, you can’t criticize people’s feelings. That’s just mean. But if art really is just self-expression, then how can you revise your work? Can you “improve” your feelings? Revision and improvement are possible only because there are such things as good art and crap art, neither of which have much to do with how hungry or sad the artist was at the time of creation.

It’s very easy to write off art as just self-expression. It’s a convenient shield from criticism. Worse, though, it exempts the artist from the responsibility to include something of a social vision, to touch on public morality without moralizing. As far as anti-democratic authority is concerned, it would rather see art denigrated to the point where artists ignore social problems and focus on their personal feelings. In a capitalistic society we’re encouraged to be greedy and selfish. And so it makes sense that in such a society art is assumed and encouraged to be selfish, that is, “just self-expression”.


This article first appeared in the Simon Fraser University student paper, The Peak, issue 7, volume 127 - October 15, 2007