Philosophical Dialogues, Is a Just Society Possible?, Hunter and Bain, Jake Jackson, Are we limited by language? Plato vs Aristotle, Uncertainty Principle

Dialogues | What is the Point of Art?

In the shadows of a Baobab grove Hunter and Bain sit deep in the back of the café, hiding from the hard sun. They peer out from the relative darkness to the wide, barren plains where, just a few yards in front of the café a curious tableau plays out in silence with a silhouette of three figures. A child sits cross-legged on the ground, staring intently at a large pad of paper, occasionally flicking its head towards the horizon. Alongside an elegant woman in a kanga stands contemplating an easel while next to her an android, its degraded synthetic skin refracting the sunlight, also addresses an easel with measured purpose. From a distance each figure appears to hunt meaning in the stillness of the slow rolling landscape before them.

The time does not matter, nor the year.


Bain: I assume you’re never been moved to paint? You didn’t seem impressed when we last talked about art.

Hunter: Indeed, but it is fascinating that even now such a thing continues.

Bain: You still sound dismissive, of course.

Hunter: I don’t mean to be. This art thing endures, even through the catastrophes and the technology. Somehow it clings on, like that human spirit of yours.

Bain: It’s just imitation though, isn’t it? I think I gave it up when I was very young.

Hunter, allowing a sly smile: That explains much.

Bain: What? It can’t be important.

Hunter: Does everything have to be important?

Bain: No, but I don’t do it so perhaps I’m a little envious of the ability.

Hunter: I’m not sure the child there will have any ability. Not yet anyway.

Bain: Ok, the desire, or motivation.

Hunter: Well, I think that’s the point. There’s something compelling about it, you humans seem to pick up pens and paper when you’re young, even before the fascination with moving images and bright screens.

Bain: Something to do with the hands wanting create.

Hunter: The hands as part of a neurological system perhaps, it’s the brain that’s driving the desire.

Bain: But intelligent people don’t always want to draw.

Hunter: No, no, intelligence is more than just thinking, it’s an entire process. That android is a true imitation, a work of art in its way, an attempt to echo the human form, then to perfect it. In everything it does it tries to replicate the human method, but always with efficiently, its lines more precise, its proportions more balanced.

Bain: So do you think the android will create a better painting?

Hunter: Only if art really is about imitation.

Bain: What else could it be then?

Hunter: Art, in all its forms, poetry, creating music, mosaics, they’re about creating worlds, not just copying them. I’ve observed so many people as they write, or paint, and the finished work often seems able to induce emotions from their viewers, or onlookers, themselves even.

Bain: You’re straying into different territory here. I think you mean that art is not just copying, but creating a life of its own. Like a child dependent on a parent in the early years, becomes subject to other influences as they grow up, and their own personality begin to shape into life.

Hunter: So art, once created takes on its own life, shaped by those who view it, use it, where they put it, how they light it, even if they bury it in a corridor, that still imposes an influence.

Bain: So do you think Art can be of itself? Can it exist without being viewed, without an opinion being expressed?

Hunter: Well, it has form and must have some significance to the person creating it, but perhaps it doesn’t come into its full state unless it is seen, or read by others. Like a child too ill to leave the house, and is never visited, they have no chance to grow, to fulfil themselves.

Bain: So Art is about sharing, and growing, perhaps that’s what I missed out when I was young. I hardly went to school, I was on the streets, surviving, stealing food, anything, for my family.

Hunter: Is this your hard-luck story?

Bain, grunting: No, just thinking. I know I’ve changed since meeting you, travelling to so many different planets, encountering different people and creatures, androids and beings of pure thought. It’s forced me to change.

Hunter: For the better?

Bain laughs: I don’t know about that, I’ve been so terrified, so close to death, But somehow more settled in myself.

Hunter: So perhaps art can do that too, perhaps it facilitates the creator and those who engage with it, perhaps it makes them think beyond themselves, to explore more, ask more questions.

Bain: All from a simple brush of paint.

Hunter begins to lift himself up: Shall we see what they’re doing? I’d like to see if the android’s work is better than the woman’s, or if it’s a mess of misunderstanding.

Bain put a restraining hand on his Hunter’s arm: No, let’s just watch them, let’s not see what they do. It’s good to speculate. Anyway, they haven’t finished, artists hate being disturbed while they work.

Hunter slumped back down again, nodding. Part of him did enjoy the speculation without resolution. Bain watched the back of the child and noticed that now she looked up at the woman’s painting, and seemed energised by something, a new direction perhaps, or was it just copying? The android progresses steadily without referring to his companions at all. Bain and Hunter enjoyed watching the watchers, trying to resist the temptation to disturb the delicate process with further investigation.


Links