Contempt Prior to Investigation

Diamond Zhou

Oct 17, 20249 min read

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October 5th, 2024

“Contempt prior to investigation” refers to the tendency to reject an object, idea, opinion, or belief without experiencing aspects of it, or without first thoroughly examining the facts or evidence. It often happens when people make judgments based on assumptions, biases, or preconceived notions. This tendency, an intellectual arrogance or closed-mindedness, spans from rejecting foreign food, to art, philosophy, science, religion, and whole cultures.

The phrase emphasizes that holding contempt for something before understanding it fully can prevent growth, discovery, and open dialogue. It is especially relevant in situations involving new ideas, unconventional viewpoints, or unfamiliar experiences, where a willingness to investigate and question can lead to greater insight. It is a form of intellectual laziness or fear, where people make decisions to cling to their existing beliefs rather than challenge them through honest inquiry.

In the context of art, it occurs when viewers dismiss a work of art based on preconceived ideas or superficial judgements without taking the time to fully engage with or understand the work. This is especially common in abstract art, where the visual language often diverges from recognizable forms, and the meaning and intention may not be immediately clear. By nature, abstract art challenges viewers to move beyond representation. Artists like Wassily Kandinsky, Piet Mondrian, and Jackson Pollock created works that broke with tradition, emphasizing emotional, spiritual, or conceptual elements rather than depicting physical reality. For many viewers, the lack of clear subject matter can provoke frustration or even contempt, leading them to reject the work outright. This response often stems from a discomfort with ambiguity or a belief that art must adhere to certain rules, like realism or narrative clarity.

Wassily Kandinsky, Fugue, 1914, Oil on canvas. © Beyeler Foundation.

Piet Mondrian, Ocean 5, 1914, Charcoal and gouache on wood-pulp wove paper, glued to Homosote panel. The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice, 1976. © Mondrian/Holtzman Trust

Jackson Pollock, One: Number 31, 1950, 1950, Oil and enamel paint on canvas. Sidney and Harriet Janis Collection Fund (by exchange). © 2024 Pollock-Krasner Foundation /Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

However, when a viewer approaches abstract art with an open mind, one free from immediate judgment, they allow themselves this very important opportunity to experience the work in a different, often more profound way. Abstract art invites emotional engagement. It prompts viewers to reflect on their feelings, memories, and associations, which may not align with traditional expectations of beauty or form. These internal dialogues can sometimes bring despair, rage, revulsion, grief, anxiety, but also euphoria, serenity, relief, love. This active process of investigation, of spending time with a work, allowing its colours, forms, and sometimes even textures, to resonate, can lead to deeper and significant appreciation and understanding.

Historically, many abstract artists faced significant resistance, with their work often labelled as unintelligible, meaningless, or even fraudulent. Yet over time, abstract art has gained recognition for its ability to express the ineffable, to capture experiences and emotions that cannot be easily conveyed through representational forms. The abstract itself becomes a space for the sublime, where meaning emerges through engagement, not through preconceived ideas of what art "should" be.

"Others have seen what is and asked why. I have seen what could be and asked why not."

– Pablo Picasso

Pablo Picasso, Bowl of Fruit, Violin and Bottle, 1914. Lent by the National Gallery 1997. © Succession Picasso/DACS 2024

Pablo Picasso, Visage (A.R. 288), 1955, Ceramic. Please inquire for availability. © Paul Kyle Gallery

Pablo Picasso’s work, especially in Cubism and his later abstract pieces, was often met with confusion, criticism, and rejection by those who couldn't initially see beyond the conventional expectations of art. His philosophy of "why not" encouraged him to transcend these judgments, urging the public and fellow artists to explore the potential of art beyond traditional representation. Picasso’s legacy is built on his constant redefinition of what his art could be. From his Blue Period, where he explored melancholic, emotive scenes, to his work in Cubism, where he deconstructed form, Picasso’s ability to "see what could be" transformed not only his personal artistic career but also the entire landscape of modern art. Over time, Cubism came to be understood as a radical and essential innovation in modern art, shifting how artists approached form, space, and perspective.

Kazimir Malevich, Black Square, 1913. © State Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow

Kazimir Malevich's Suprematism, particularly his iconic Black Square (1913), was initially met with widespread contempt. Many critics and viewers dismissed the work as overly simplistic, devoid of meaning, or even a mockery of art itself. At the time, the art world was still dominated by representational painting, and Malevich’s radical shift to pure geometric abstraction left many feeling alienated, as they were unable to see beyond the surface of his works to appreciate their deeper intentions.

Malevich’s Suprematism revealed a revolutionary new approach to art. Malevich believed that art should transcend physical objects and represent pure emotions through geometric forms like squares, circles, and crosses. Black Square symbolized a "zero point" in painting, where he rejected centuries of artistic tradition to explore the supremacy of pure artistic expression. His aim was to create a universal visual language that could evoke profound spiritual and emotional experiences, unaffected by the constraints of the material world and a need to represent something known.

The engagement over time with Malevich’s ideas and works, the initial contempt gave way to a greater appreciation of his role in shaping modern art. Suprematism became recognized as a critical milestone in the development of abstraction, influencing movements such as Minimalism and Abstract Expressionism.

Lygia Clark, Bichos (Creatures), 1963. © Alison Jacques

Lygia Clark, Diálogo de Óculos (Glasses Dialogue), 1966. Photo: Eduardo Clark. Courtesy Associação Cultural O Mundo de Lygia Clark

Lygia Clark. O eu e o tu (The I and the you). 1967, Industrial rubber, foam, vinyl, acrylon, zipper, water, fabric. Courtesy Associação Cultural “O Mundo de Lygia Clark”

Brazilian artist Lygia Clark’s body of work reimagined relationship between viewers and art object. Her early works focused on geometric abstraction, but she soon moved into more experimental, interactive art, which completely defied traditional ideas of what art should be. A founding member of the 1950s Brazilian Neoconcretist movement, Clark proposed a radical approach to thinking about painting by treating its pictorial surface as if it were a three-dimensional architectural space. Her works became "propositions" or participatory objects that invited the viewer to engage physically, dissolving the boundaries between art and life. For example, in her Bichos series (1960s), Clark created foldable metal sculptures that could be rearranged and manipulated by the viewer. These works weren’t static objects to be observed but rather dynamic pieces meant to be touched and transformed, involving the participant’s body and agency.

Initially, Clark’s work was met with skepticism and misunderstanding. The art world at the time was largely focused on the art object as something to be observed, not interacted with. Critics found it difficult to classify her work, questioning their purpose and her process -- was it art, therapy, or social engagement? Her radical shift toward creating art that required audience participation was dismissed by some as too experimental or even illegitimate as "art." The physical engagement her work demanded often led to a certain degree of contempt from those who were unprepared for this new form of expression, which blurred boundaries between art and sensory experience.

As people began to investigate Clark's work more deeply, her innovations became more widely recognized. Her later works, such as Glasses Dialogue and The I and the You, involved intimate physical experiences, including breathing exercises, sensory isolation, and tactile engagement. Clark’s radical exploration of the body, perception, and personal interaction opened new ways of thinking about art as a participatory and therapeutic process, breaking down the passive viewing experience and turning the audience into active participants. Today, Clark is celebrated for her groundbreaking contributions to both contemporary art and performance, and her work is seen as a vital precursor to participatory and relational art practices.

Barnett Newman, Voice of Fire, 1967. Acrylic on canvas, 543.6 x 243.8 cm. Purchased 1989. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. ©The Barnett Newman Foundation, New York/ SOCAN, Montreal (2022). Photo: NGC

When the National Gallery of Canada purchased Voice of Fire by Barnett Newman for $1.8 million in 1990, the public response was overwhelmingly negative. Critics and the public alike were outraged, with many claiming the painting was a waste of taxpayer money on what appeared to be nothing more than three vertical stripes of colour. The simplicity of the work, to those unfamiliar with Newman's contributions to abstract expressionism, seemed unjustifiable.

Historians and critics defended the historical significance of Barnett Newman’s work, his exploration of colour fields, and his influence on modern art. They pointed to the immersive experience created by the painting’s scale and the emotional response it sought to evoke. Although some public contempt remained, the acquisition sparked broader discussions about the value of abstract art, pushing the Canadian art community toward greater appreciation for modern art’s non-representational forms. Today, Voice of Fire is considered a cornerstone of the National Gallery's collection and probably one of the best art investments a Canadian art institution has ever made.

Maya Lin, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, 1982, National Mall, Washington D.C. Sponsor: Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund. Architect of Record: Cooper-Lecky Partnership. Landscape Architect: Henry Arnold. Photography: Terry Adams, Mark Segal, Victoria Sambunaris, Wendy Watriss

When young architect Maya Lin’s design for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was selected in 1981, the public response was filled with controversy and outrage. Critics found the design too minimalistic, sombre, and unlike traditional war memorials, which were often more heroic in style. The black granite wall inscribed with the names of soldiers was seen as unpatriotic by some, and its abstract nature drew significant ire from veterans’ groups and politicians, including notable figures like Ross Perot.

After the memorial was built, public opinion shifted dramatically. As people visited the site and saw the emotional power of the wall, how the names of the fallen were honoured in a way that allowed for personal reflection and mourning, the memorial became one of the most revered in the U.S. The simplicity of the design created an intimate, powerful experience for visitors, and today it is regarded as one of the most successful and emotionally resonant war memorials. Lin’s vision, initially dismissed, ultimately transformed how the public thinks about memorials and the role of minimalism in commemorative spaces.

Michael Heizer, Levitating Mass (Located at LACMA), 2012, Diorite granite and concrete, 35 × 456 × 21 2/3 ft. (10.67 × 138.98 × 6.6 m) Weight: 340 Tons. © Michael Heizer, Photo by Tom Vinetz Transporting Michael Heizer's Levitated Mass, 2012. Photo by waltarrrrr, via Flickr.

Michael Heizer's Levitated Mass is a monumental public artwork consisting of a 340-ton granite boulder perched above a 456-foot-long trench at LACMA. The project, which cost around $10 million, drew significant public backlash even before it was completed. Many Angelenos were critical of the high cost of transporting the boulder from a quarry 105 miles away to LACMA, especially during a time of economic downturn. Critics labelled the work as wasteful, pointing out that the money could have been better spent on community projects or improving public services. Additionally, the artwork itself—essentially a giant rock—was ridiculed by some who didn’t see the artistic merit in it.

After Levitated Mass was installed and people began interacting with the work, opinions shifted. As viewers walked under the massive boulder, the artwork’s power became apparent in its ability to evoke a sense of awe and contemplation about mass, gravity, and nature's raw power. Heizer, known for his contributions to the Land Art movement, designed Levitated Mass to engage viewers with the monumental scale of natural elements in a city context, creating a tension between nature and urbanism. Over time, the piece sparked broader conversations about Land Art, the use of scale in public works, and how art interacts with the environment and architecture. While some criticism remained, Levitated Mass gained a following and became a symbol of Los Angeles’ ambitious engagement with contemporary art. The journey of moving the boulder, which involved transporting it through 22 cities and generating a public spectacle, also contributed to the mythic behind its story, helping people see it as more than just an oversized rock.

Renowned art critic Robert Hughes’ writings and views often reflected his deep disdain for the superficial or dismissive judgment of art without thoughtful engagement. Hughes was known for advocating a deeper, more intellectually rigorous approach to art criticism and viewing, emphasizing the need for historical and contextual understanding before making any judgments.

Hughes was particularly critical of the commercialization of the art world, where he felt that works were often judged more by market value or trendiness than by their artistic merit. This mirrors the idea of contempt prior to investigation: the rejection of art based on superficial factors rather than an informed, thoughtful engagement with the work itself. In his 1980 television series The Shock of the New, Hughes examined modern art and how public perception often lags behind the innovative vision of artists, reinforcing how initial disdain can later evolve into understanding and appreciation once viewers take the time to investigate deeper layers of meaning.

Hughes was also skeptical of certain movements and artworks that he felt were overly hyped or given uncritical praise. In his criticism, Hughes insisted that viewers and critics alike should approach art with an open mind but also with a rigorous demand for quality, complexity, and authenticity. This shows the importance of not rushing to judgment, whether positive or negative, without engaging with the work’s deeper implications. For Hughes, the danger of contempt prior to investigation could also extend to uncritical praise, he warned against accepting works simply because they were framed as intellectual or avant-garde, without interrogating their actual artistic value.

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