Some interesting threads about ”authenticity” are tracking around the web, many in response to the new Pine & Gilmore book on the subject (haven’t read it yet, but it’s in ”the stack”). Included in the thread are posts by Grant McCracken, then Sam Ford, and then Sam Ford again.
At issue is what we all mean by ”authentic,” which seems to be a placeholder for lots of different variables — clarity of purpose, lack of pretense, sense of genuine care and attention, endurance over time.
McCracken’s original post was in response to one reader who blasted Unilever for promoting their ”campaign for real beauty” through Dove soap, while also blatantly objectifying women with their ”Axe effect” campaign for young men. The assumption was that such conflicting messages made both ”inauthentic.”
Says McCracken, get over it:
This is precisely what is wrong with the authenticity argument now being promoted by Gilmore and Pine. In fact, brands have no native voice. They may have a brand heritage. Some brand meanings may come more easily than others. But there is nothing a brand must say, and nothing, within limits, it mustn’t say. Brands are designed to be exemplars of responsiveness. This means we may not insist on what they “really” mean, or what they “must” say. The very point of the exercise, as this is carried forward by branding, marketing, capitalism, and a dynamic society, hangs in the balance.
Since arts organizations are often perceived (or perceive themselves) as havens of authentic expression, it might be worth a moment to define, exactly, what that means.
I am entering this conversation from left field, so my comments may be either redundant or irrelevant (but that’s never stopped me in the past, why should it now). The most-recent posting almost forced me to reach back and dust off my folklorist hat.
“Authenticity” is a near-technical term for folklorists, in that it is used to denote the relationship between an object or performance and underlying community-based oral tradition. Authentic folk songs, log cabins, quilts, costumes, dance steps, legends, or tales are those that possess meaning shaped and validated by a close connection with shared community values and heritage. A barn constructed by a rural community using traditional materials and traditional practices of carpentry would be deemed “authentic,” while an equally-functional pre-fab steel structure would not.
Since much of modern mass or popular culture is of the pre-fab barn variety, it’s not difficult to identify a longing for heritage-defined, community-based products or performances as a significant element of our overarching ethos. There are many thousands of examples of the way th marketplace has exploited this idea. Blue jeans connect with the “authentic” idea of real men doing real work; a Ralph Lauren shooting jacket invokes the “authentic” world of entitled patrician ease; a faux-antique farm table links consumers with the sturdy values of an agrarian past.
This, to me, is the sense of authenticity that pervades mass culture today. It is an idea that is particularly potent in our “thin” consumerist society, offering, as it does, the illusion of purchasable membership in networks defined by exactly the history and shared values that in modern society are available to very, very few.
I was going over the multiple meanings of cultural terminology with students here at Vanderbilt a couple of years ago, and was initially surprised to observe that each of them had a sophisticated sense of what was meant by “authenticity.” But as we talked it down, it became clear that in dress and music, the idea of being authentic — connected with a real or imagined community through shared heritage and values — was a very important and self-conscious process. To me, this powerful commercial idea is grounded in an understanding that expressive life that is linked to oral tradition holds “thick” meaning and importance, and the consumption of “authentic”-seeming products or performances is a source of status in a “thin” consumer culture.
Bill Ivey
I believe that Bill Ivey is pointing in the right direction in speaking of authenticity in connection to a community locus. I also believe our “thin” consumer culture is a reaction and then a commercial response to an issue of scarcity or even elitism surrounding authentic products, thoughts, ideas etc.
To illustrate; I have the desire to have, enjoy, cherish, understand and appreciate Native American art (jewelry, textile, song, narrative) but I don’t have the means to go to a source community in either time or money. But I can go to a Pendelton store nearby and purchase an “authentic” jean jacket with a Navajo Rug pattern on the back. The need, desire and recognition of authenticity is not lacking but rather because of scarcity we are open to mimicry and available substitutes. We wish to participate in the community of authenticity and even though we know the jean jacket isn’t the real deal it does, in an expedient way, fulfill part of our need to participate.
Knowledge or familiarity help nail the rightfulness of any offered authenticity. The issue of course is whether that knowledge is available to us.
A few things: I think it’s important to emphasize that this has little to do with qualities of the aesthetic object itself.
“Authenticity” as it is generally bought and sold today — and really A LOT of the force of aesthetic objects generally — has to do with negotiating social relationships, largely between the self and the mass. Not with transcendence.
Unless you count creating the illusion of Gemeinschaft in a world of Gesellschaft as “transcendence.”
What is the difference between someone with a desire to “understand” truly authentic Navajo art and the guy who wears the rug jacket?
Precious little, I’d say–both experiences are completely divorced from the experience and community that brought the object forth. They are just different classes of consumer experience.
I’d argue that authenticity of the folklorist sort is largely inaccessible to us, and however much we gussy up buying stuff, it’s still just buying stuff, even if you bother to read the instructions.
The meaning of ‘authenticity’ is often confused even in the world of fine art: Is the picture an ‘authentic’ Picasso, i.e. painted by him? But in its purest form, authenticity is implied in the definition of fine art: art produced or INTENDED primarily for beauty [or meaning], rather than utility (American Heritage Dictionary).
Based on this definition, Picasso (or any artist) could have made inauthentic art if he had a market (utility) in mind when he was making a particular piece. Artists are supposed to be motivated by deep feelings from within, not by external factors such as fame or money. This pure motivation is authenticity.
so if i understand correctly, authenticity is a cultural production that comes out of a community, respecting and following its rules and values and therefore perpetuating these values and rules. additionally, the authentic can only be understood fully by members of this community. and the authentic is not a product. so the appeal of authenticity in modern society comes from being included in a community if we understand and appreciate “real” authenticity. that is in short what i read out of the comments.
somewhat puzzling for me is the very positive value we attribute to authenticity: if it is following and perpetuating rules and values of communities it also excludes a lot of possibilities of “doing things”. if you take music as an example (for me the reason to think about authenticity), it is still seen as not authentic if black musicians play heavy metal. or hispanic musicians playing country (interesting to note that white musicians are allowed much more: is it really authentic if they play indian classical music?).
additionally it excludes any understanding and therefore any discussion about this cultural production from people not belonging to the community: the usual “you can not and will never understand this”.
but then why do we value authenticity so highly? first, if we are a member of a community, it helps keeping our identity as an individual and as a member of our community stable. an identity that can not be contested and is therefore stable): within the community it is understood (although there are alway “traitors”, trying to change too much too fast). from outside the community critizism can be disregarded. they do not know what they talk about.
second we have been told to value authenticity that highly – it is a great selling argument. we are being told that in our modern, western, commercial plastic culture there is no authenticity – so we have to turn to other communities to find it. so we crave for an inclusion into “real” communities without ever having a chance to be included: it is no wonder that for example mainstream gangsta hip hop gets sold primarly to white middleclass youth, longing for a clear, stable identity. but since they will never be really included in the “community of real gangstas”, they will always have a craving to get at least as close to it as possible – and buy not only the record, but also the sneakers and so on… it is the usual selling trick of creating an artificial desire and construct it in that way that it never can be fully satisfied.
so we might have a closer look: “our” (as western commercial plastic) cultural production also perpetuates values and ways of doing, sustains our culture. so suddenly i find myself thinking that every casted on tv-band might be as authentic to our culture as, let’s say, bob dylan. if we would realize that, and not define britney spears as plastic and not authentic, then we might would take a closer look on our cultural production and try to start to change it instead of longing to supposedly more authentic “native communities”. we would realize that it is actually authentic to make music, art in general, with making money as a primary goal – and that this seems to be part of our tradition and values of our society. and that authenticity can therefore be a trap, perpetuating ideals and values within our society that are maybe not that positive at all. so pitching our un-authentic, commercial cultural production against real authentic artefacts only serves to eliminate any possibility to critisize BOTH ways of cultural production: the authentic, because we are not fully able to understand it, the un-authentic, because it is not what “we are really about” and can be disregarded.
as a conclusion i decided to basically disregard the category “authenticity” – it seems to me that it only serves to suppress discussions of values and methods in society.
allright – while i’m writing on (and as little aside) i would also like to make a comment on cecilia wong’s comment: “pure motivation”? how will you ever be able to judge that? you will only be able to judge motivation by external signs (since we are not able to look inside an artists head). so if a underground-rocker buys suddenly a big fat mercedes it is a sign that she / he is dis-honest in making art (selling out!). but that rule does not apply to a big r’n’b-star: there it is expected that she / he has at least 3 big fat mercedeses. so it seems that “honesty” depends on ways to behave properly, according to the context the artist works in. but that still does not tell me anything about “true intentions”. people can and do lie.
and then the idea of “pure intention” also disregards the autonomy of the work of art: there are moments commercial art touches me more then supposidly “pure” or “high” art – this depends to a big degree on me, how much work i invest in understanding something and how much i am able to appropriate that work of art for me. so the category of “pure intention” seems not one that can be used. and it disregards history in the sense that through the centuries many works of great art have been (and still are) commissioned – so there is a commercial purpose in doing art – but was it a primary motivation or a secondary? and is it still pure if there was any thought on the side of the artist of making money with his art? maybe it is o.k. if the artists wants to just wants to make enough money so she / he can sustain herself, kind of a basic income, but no more? where do we draw the line? here the only way out would be to radically not pay for any art anymore…
so – that comment became longer than intended – thanks for reading until the end…
sunbathinglizard
Should an artist live well? Can we ever know the true intention of the artist? Yes, yes. If he/she can truly express himself/herself in their chosen medium, the intention lurks like an invisible signature. Therefore finding the true intention in a piece of art is a great challenge for the connoisseur and the collector. And that’s what makes art interesting. This pure intention often does happen too in the course of making commissions, be it sculpture or architecture – some are more inspired than others!
Zowie. I’m going to challenge myself to be brief in the face of the verbal avalanche above (if anyone makes it this far down the page…)
Authentic is as authentic does. Everything is authentic. The cultural construct of “authentic” discussed in these posts is authentic in that – strictly speaking – it is what it is.
What’s at stake here is ego – how do we construct and view our version of the world? Insofar as the above discussion is concerned, the “authenticity” in question is simply a way to segregate perceived cultural “haves” (who are “authentic”) from cultural “have-nots” who eat at chains, wear pre-faded jeans, and shop at the Mart of Wal.
Ask Harvey Pekar where he got his donuts – and I’ll bet you dollars to those donuts that he didn’t care.
well, avalanches fit the season. alright – i try to be shorter this time. yeah, of course authenticity is about ego – excluding others, elevating oneself (and her / his group).
but i wanted to add something to the comment of cecilia wong – your latest comment made me think, and somehow i have unwillingly to admit that you are right. i guess the intention shows up in the moment of overstepping exactly “the authentic”, if we define the authentic as the perpetuation of values and rules. i suspect true art happens exactly by pushing these limits further – and this can be seen. some examples might be just slightly off, others are so far away that they might only be understood much later. and now i just wonder if cecilia wong would agree that this is the “pure intention” (alright, i’m still not happy with the word – but that might be just my ego)?
and yes, i will refrain for now from elaborating onand on…