I like "bad" art
including mine: on learning something new at any age or stage
One of my most controversial opinions might be that I don’t really believe in the idea of ‘bad art.’ I appreciate most art simply for existing. (I know, I know, vom? But it’s TRUE). I love people’s art.
Of course, we judge artistic works as ‘better’ or ‘worse’ by certain standards—but calling something simply ‘bad’ often overlooks the creative process, along with the personal and cultural meanings it may hold beyond traditional notions of quality or taste. If someone puts effort and love into making something—anything—that carries joy, passion, inspiration, or feeling, I’m unlikely to see it as bad. To me, the only way art can truly fail is if it evokes no emotion or meaning at all.
I kind of like (so-called) ‘bad’ art. Wonky art. Strange art. I even like ‘bad’ writing sometimes. Clunky phrases or sentences that are too long. Some of my favourite books have ‘bad’ covers—ones that feel outdated or weird. I like that these things exist, and that people made them and put them out into the world. I like so-called ‘bad’ stuff when it has punch, zest, and passion.
I love people and things that don’t fit nearly into boxes. It confuses critics. “What/who ARE they?” “This album is all over the place!” “This book jumps around.” So…? Art doesn’t always need to make sense.
One of the things I personally loved about judging the Women’s Prize this year was encountering books that were hard to categorise. Was it a biography? Memoir? Cultural study? All three? My favourite books were the ones that broke the rules. They played with format. I’m drawn to books, art, and films that surprise me—that don’t try too hard to be ‘good’, but instead craft something new and exciting. Interestingly, the five of us judges pretty much unanimously agreed on what the ‘best’ books were in the end—that’s because you can’t argue with craft.
And how do you improve your craft, over time? You must also embrace the days where you produce something ‘bad’.
Even the phrase ‘bad art’ is super subjective—and we all like different things. To one person blue cheese is BAD/GONE-OFF/MOULDY, to someone else: it is a rich delicacy and a luxurious way to end a meal at a lovely restaurant.
It’s about what we personally enjoy. When I hear people outraged that a ‘bad book’ has been published, I can’t help but also think that someone, somewhere, liked it enough to publish it! Can’t be that bad, then? Just not for you? Books that people are snobby about (beach reads/chick lit/whatever way we want to degrade women’s fiction) sell by the bucket load. How can something ‘bad’ be loved by so many people?
When I interviewed the iconic Fran Lebowitz a few years ago on stage (who I love, by the way), I mentioned my belief that there’s no such thing as bad art. Let’s just say she did not agree, and it got a laugh from the audience.