Art involves a partnership with an entity outside oneself. And so, artists are necessary, but not sufficient for the creation of a work of art. At the inception and throughout the materialization of any given piece, it’s as if something or someone helps me, and that art is an upshot of intuitions and emotions received from elsewhere.
The juxtaposition of things – whether the things depicted are colorful or not – whether they are depicted in chiaroscuro or not – is enjoyable.
While some pieces of art are as comfortable for me as lifelong friends, others are difficult for me to endure even for a span of seconds. Perhaps you can understand from this that art is bound to involve time. I feel that the virtue of a work of art can be measured by the length of time it pleases and refreshes or, contrariwise, by the amount of time it takes to weary of it.
But the test of time can be taken too far, because in seeming to define creative work, it evades deeper insights into the artistic conundrum, for instance, that the creation of art simultaneously involves both certainty and uncertainty.
Consider an analogy: imagine yourself drawing with pen and ink – attempting to precisely delineate an animal or a building or a human figure. As you draw, you pay close attention to outlines and shadows. You are strictly guided by the actuality in front of you, because you are convinced of the truth of what lies in front of you.
Then, imagine splashing color onto the same surface surface – freely stirring it about and perhaps obliterating the outlines and shadows that earlier were so carefully drawn.
It is as if “. . . before the artist created a work of art, it does not exist, it is not anywhere. There is no copying, there is no adaptation, there is no learning of the rules, there is no external check, there is no structure which you must understand and adapt yourself to before you can proceed. The heart of the entire process is invention, creation, making, out of literally nothing, or out of any materials that may be to hand.” – quoted from Isaiah Berlin, The Roots of Romanticism, 1999, Princeton University Press, Chapter 6: ‘The Lasting Effects’