"My Bed" by Tracey Emin
When I first saw a picture of Emin’s award winning ‘sculpture’, I thought to myself, ‘I could do that’. Upon further research into the creative process behind this piece and the artistic intention of it, I thought to myself: ‘okay, so anyone could do that’.
Looking at the work above, I am forced to ask myself: how can this be considered ‘art’? .
Waterloo native Tracey Emin concocted the sculpture after going through a depressive state, not leaving her bed and allowing it to fall into a state of deep disrepair. Upon finally getting up from her bed, she considered it to look artistic, and in 1999, the ‘work of art’ was displayed at the Tate, titled My Bed, becoming a finalist for the coveted Turner Prize. Of course, this raised some eyebrows in the world of art criticism, as many people thought a messy bed was hardly the definition of ‘art’. The piece was ultimately sold for 2.5 million British pounds, and while much of the press dismissed it as provocative and sexually exhibitive without any true merit, some claim that My Bed deserves more credit.
“This is personal art,” writes Meis (2016). “It is not the primary purpose of art to do philosophy or to speculate about metaphysics,” she goes on; “It is the job of art, however, to give physical form to compelling nuggets of our shared experience” (Meis 2016). It seems, in Meis’ opinion, that My Bed does just that.
While I find the piece heavy-handed and unimpressive, for many, My Bed evokes a deeply personal connection: Emin is showing us something vulnerable and private, something many relate too but would not put on display. If emotional authenticity and subjective, individually prescribed meaning are attributed to artistic value, then perhaps this piece is worth something after all.
Perhaps.
In my opinion, however, there is a recurring trend of banality in a lot of modern artwork. Another prime example of what I consider to be shallow 'art' can be found in the poetry of Rupi Kaur. Kaur is known for her short and simplistic poetry style, often accompanied with doodles and drawings related to the theme of the poem. Kaur’s poetry, though aesthetically fitting for many Instagram posts, is often critiqued as lacking in depth. Personally, I agree with author Greenwood’s review that Kaur’s work is banal and incredibly over-simplified, however it cannot be denied that Kaur has influenced the world of contemporary poetry. “(Kaur) most often markets in generalities, revels in cliche, works in shock value, peddles in platitudes,” writes Greenwood,“and her use of the epigrammatic form does for poetry what stock photos have done for photography” (Greenwood). Of Kaur’s poetry collection Milk and Honey, one of the best-selling modern poetry collections to date, Greenwood believes that “the work is hardly poetry at all…reading more like an adolescent journal” (Greenwood). Despite this, Milk and Honey sold millions of copies globally, and Kaur has been credited with the creation of ‘Instapoetry’, which is quite literally poetry formatted to fit aesthetically on an instagram page.
It could be argued that, due to its fairly original nature (or, at least, the unusual formatting that Kaur certainly popularized) this poetry possesses legitimate artistic value. It may not advance any field of poetry, but it does present something different. Kaur makes a profit from her “platitudes”; though her words may lack originality and emotional depth, her style is undoubtedly outside of the norm–for better or for worse (Greenwood).
Poem from Kaur's collection Milk and Honey
Considering the works of Emin and Kaur, I reach the personal conclusion that while such art can be valued based on its societal impact and monetary value, this is the type of art that, put simply, will not last. By this, I mean to say it lacks timelessness.
Certain great works of art throughout the realms of poetry, literature, and visual, last beyond their historical context because of they possess the quality of timelessness. Shakespeare is an excellent example of timlessness in art: not only were Shakespeare's plays influential during his lifetime and during the historical context in which they were written, but they continue to be impactful today in modern society, despite the fact that their context has undoubtedly changed.
Contrastingly, some renowned artists such as the painter Vincent Van Gogh were not popular during their lifetimes, and gained fame and recognition post-mortem. Regardless of this, the work they produced must possess the same quality of timelessness, as they persist as important cultural symbols in today's society.
I have to admit, I fully recognize that this is quite an over-simplified conceptualization of timelessness. Truly, timelessness may be impossible to actually acheive. I am drawn to consider some lines from my favorite poem, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. This poem specifically centers around the topic of self-consciousness (in regards to aging and physical imperfections as well as to feeling inadequate in social settings and speechless in conversation) but it is also applicable in a broader sense to the creative experience of the artist, and it poses the question of if any art is truly timeless. In fact, Eliot’s poem ponders if there is anything at all that is timeless. Material things, specifically, are certainly not built to last till the end of time–so when we discuss timelessness as a factor of artistic value, are we misinterpreting the term ‘timeless’ completely?
Eliot writes:
And indeed, there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and “Do I dare?” (Stanza 7 Lines 37-38)
…
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. (Stanza 7 Lines 45-48)
Does anyone dare disturb the universe? Though I began this post fueled by my dislike for art that I find tasteless, boring, and unimpressive, I find myself finishing it on a more speculative note. It seems to me that when we destroy, this disturbs the universe, and as so when we create (I’m speaking specifically of art). This aspect of creation is essential to producing a work of art, but there is also inherent destruction involved, as nothing we produce will last eternally.
Maybe, then, timelessness is not within the realm of possibility. Regardless, I find it impossible to believe that works such as Kaur's Milk and Honey and Emin's My Bed will last once their context has changed and past. Their fame is fleeting, and I believe this speaks to their value as well. Some art, in my opinion, just sucks.
Sources:
Meis, Morgan. “The Empty Bed: Tracey Emin and the Persistent Self.” Image Journal, 7 Dec. 2016, imagejournal.org/article/empty-bed-tracey-emin-persistent-self/.
Eliot, T.S. “The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock”. The Poetry Foundation, 1963, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/44212/the-love-song-of-j-alfred-prufrock. Accessed 04 February 2025.
Emin, Tracey. My Bed. 1998. Tate Gallery., https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/emin-my-bed-l03662. Accessed 03 February 2025.
Greenwood, Janice. “Book Review: Rupi Kaur’s Milk and Honey, Workshopped by a Columbia M.F.A. Grad.” BOOK REVIEW: RUPI KAUR’S MILK AND HONEY, WORKSHOPPED BY A COLUMBIA M.F.A. GRAD, 28 Jan. 2023, janicegreenwood.com/2020/09/book-review-rupi-kaurs-milk-and-honey-workshopped-by-a-columbia-m-f-a-grad/#:~:text=It%20is%20easy%20to%20dismiss,photos%20have%20done%20for%20photography.