The Power of Bad Art

Writer: Cosmo Hodges-Hooper
Editor: Sophia Millar

“Oh, I’m no good at art. I can’t make anything good like real artists.” How often have you heard your friends, classmates, or even yourself saying something like this?  I personally have been guilty of it. It’s easy, especially in a place like Havergal that has such a competitive and perfectionist culture, to feel that what can’t be done well isn’t worth doing at all. Art is made by real artists, not a teenager with a bad grasp of anatomy doodling on their math homework. Some might think it’s better to just stop entirely. But this is simply not true. Bad art is worthwhile, even essential— and while bad art itself is impossible to truly define, art that we do label as “bad” still has the power to rouse emotions and inspire future art.

To start, the art we consider good, bad, or even meaningful is, as the saying goes, entirely in the eye of the beholder. Bad art is a shorthand (and one that this piece will continue to use), but a shorthand for… what, exactly? In relief printmaking, for example, “chatter” is the name given to stray lines printed by carved-away sections of the block that accidentally caught ink. You would think, then, that the less chatter, the better; any printmaker worth their salt would want to minimize it as much as possible. However, chatter is often used intentionally. It can add visual interest, convey movement, or draw the eye in a certain direction. It also provides the coveted variations between different editions. Clearly, “bad” technique is subjective. Another way we might define bad art is through neatness or precision; “messy” art is bad. This too raises problems and ambiguities. Think of many forms of collage and mixed media, which often utilize torn material and messy lettering. These seeming “imperfections” are not the result of a lazy or negligent artist, but instead a conscious aesthetic effort. How can we call bad art worthless, if we cannot even define what bad art is? Bad art, it seems, is ever-changing, impossible to pin down. 

Second, bad art inspires emotions. One of the many roles of art is to make us feel things, consider, or look from a different perspective— not necessarily just to realistically represent something. Think of abstract art, which abandons representation entirely in pursuit of a different mode of expression. Even though these works don’t show a perfect picture of things, they can awaken strong emotions, and allow us to interrogate our feelings more deeply, which is certainly a worthwhile cause. Plus, even art that we despise still rouses these same emotions. Take the Twilight films. My friend and I watched them together one Halloween, and it certainly inspired strong emotions in me. Granted, those feelings were mostly anger, disappointment, and a healthy dose of second-hand embarrassment, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t have an impact on me. The emotions and musings that art induces, even when they’re just “wow, this sucks,” can stay with us, impact our beliefs, and even inspire our own art.

Finally, bad art can beget further art. This applies to your own art, but also to art made by others. Bad art gives us the drive to create something better. Every artist, and piece of art, inevitably starts with a first draft, which normally is—let’s face it—bad. The myth of the one-take, one-layer, stream-of-consciousness masterpiece is prevalent everywhere, but it is, truly, a myth. All art starts, in some fashion, as bad art. Looking at something bad, and deciding that it could and will be better, is how masterpieces are made. Without a bad first try, we would never get a brilliant final product. Deciding that bad art is worthwhile is actually essential to the creation of good art. Furthermore, bad art gives a sense of egalitarianism to art. For example, think of songwriting. It seems very remote and difficult— I would certainly never dream of just messing around with writing a song the same way I would doodle offhandedly. In reality, anyone can write a song. If all we see is perfect, polished tracks from the greats, we’ll obviously view such a medium as out of our range. But when we can see regular people messing around with art, it brings it closer to us. It gives us the sense that maybe, just maybe, art is something we can partake in too. If all bad art does is inspire more people to become artists, then it’s still truly a worthy goal.

In conclusion, bad art, as I hope I have been able to convince you, is powerful. No bad art is truly “bad”, and even if it could be, it inspires emotions and further art— a worthy task. Art is crucial for our society and our souls. It’s hard to overcome our perfectionism, especially in a place with a culture like Havergal’s. Still, I hope this piece can make you think differently about your own bad art. Whether it’s a song, a zine, a painting, or simply a doodle on your math homework, make an effort to try something new and artistic this new year!