The Baird Method

Of criticism. Possibly could have chosen a better phrase; it sounds dirty to me now.

The Baird Maneuver:
only to be attempted by professionals.
And their girlfriends.

Getting back on track, The Baird Method (patent pending) is a method of art criticism I came up with in college to address some issues I had with how various professors critiqued art.

Some professors I had would criticize an artist for not doing something they had never intended to do in the first place. Most conceptual artists, for instance, have no desire to make their work pretty. Their focus is on the concept; the idea behind the work. Making an artwork all shiny and attractive takes the emphasis away from the point of the art. Andy Warhol didn't put glitter on his Brillo boxes - his focus was on the mundane nature of the objects he was replicating.

Other profs would disparage a piece because they disliked its style or content. To me, this is akin to a movie reviewer saying "I hate horror movies" or giving a movie a bad rating because they didn't like the political message of the film. This is basically another example of criticizing the artist for not staying within the bounds of a critic's personal taste.

The last pet peeve I have is professors who would look at a complete, professionally-crafted piece, and say "I wonder what it would be like if this painting was ten feet tall" or "what if this was a sculpture instead of a painting? Wouldn't that be cool?" What would be cool is if you judged a piece based on its own merit, and didn't compare it to some theoretical version that exists only in your imagination. That would be just swell. (And what is it with art professors always wishing things were bigger? Not everything has to punch you in the eyeballs from fifty feet away).

So yeah, the Baird Method. Basically it consists of 3 questions that address the work from the perspective of the artist, the critic, and the audience. It goes something like this:

What is the artist trying to do? Here we try to see the work from the artist's view - what is she trying to say, what does she want us to get from her art? I feel it is important to start criticism by judging the work on its own terms. It's also important to focus on what the artwork is about, rather than what we expect or wish the work were about. We'll return to imposing our own worldview in question 3.

Did the artist succeed in what they were trying to do? Here is where standard criticism comes in. If the artist was trying to paint a beautiful sunset, did she do the job? Is her color choice aesthetically pleasing? Do her brushstrokes simulate the textures of the scene? Are the anatomy and perspective good enough for the style she's going for?
If the artist has made a conceptual work, does the idea behind the work come through in the piece itself? Often, people will get a certain impression from a work, and then read the artist's statement and realize that the artist was trying to express something completely different. Not that this is a bad thing, but if you're trying to express your personal anguish through a sculpture, and everyone who looks at it thinks it's adorable and cheerful, then you have clearly failed in your initial goal.

Finally, the audience gets into the act with question 3:
The thing that the artist was trying to do... was it worth doing in the first place?
Ultimately, I think it's pointless for a critic to attempt to rid themselves of their preconceptions and become some sort of opinionless robot that takes in visual stimulus and spits out objective criticism. Now matter how fair a critic is, opinion is going to sneak in because we all have our own taste. No one can convince you that you like broccoli. You either do or you don't.
So it's important to be upfront about your personal tastes when giving criticism. For instance, I can appreciate the historical and aesthetic significance of Mark Rothko's paintings while simultaneously hating them and thinking that they suck. I can still fairly criticize him using Questions 1 & 2... it's just when we get to Question 3 that it turns out I think his entire career was a complete waste of time.

Alright, clearly I have as much of a mean streak as my professors, but at least I put it in the proper perspective.

Before I go, there's also the optional Question 4, also known as the "Uh, yeah, I totally did that on purpose" clause:

Did the artist succeed in doing something they weren't actually trying to do? In other words, were they accidentally awesome? This is a useful question if an artist happens to make a conceptual work that is conceptually retarded but very pretty, or if an artist tries to make a beautiful painting but winds up making an ugly but intellectually stimulating one.