One of the central characteristics of art, is that it is trying to break out of boxes. As such it resists any attempt to define it and I personally think that’s is actually a really good example of Wittgenstein’s family resemblance (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Family_resemblance).
But, in my opinion, even if a definition could capture what’s art, it won’t be a lazy definition like "Art" is "better than I can do”. Art cannot be limited like that and there are many things people do “better than I can do”, which are not art.
Art has a long and complex history of grappling and negotiating with the role of skill, perspectives range from equating art with skill, over seeing skill as a tool for carrying out a vision to a conscious rejection of virtuosity. Even the rejection of virtuosity can create great art.
For example in dance, my profession, there are whole fields like postmodern dance or non-dance, which reject traditional dance skills, and non-dance artists like Jerome Bel create amazing, touching art, by authentically showing people failing to do “better than I can do”.
(Although you could maybe argue that in this case the artistry is just shifted to another level, the level of composition and ideas instead of the dance itself.)
To see one example of how an artist reflects on the importance of skill/virtuosity in art, here’s an excerpt from Jonathan Burrows “A choregrapher’s handbook”:
“Virtuosity is just another way to help the audience to care what happens next.
Virtuosity raises the stakes to a place where the audience knows something may go wrong. They enjoy watching this negotiation with disaster. Will the performer fall, or forget what they’re doing, or will they get through it?
The resulting anticipation, poised on the brink of success or failure, suspends time in a moment of in-breath. This slowed-down time, in the midst of risk, is as much of a pleasure for the performer as for the audience.
However, if everything is virtuosic then there’s nothing against which to read the virtuosity: it has to be in balance with other modes of engagement.”
> it won’t be a lazy definition like "Art" is "better than I can do”. Art cannot be limited like that and there are many things people do “better than I can do”, which are not art.
Sure, "better than I can do" is a going-in position, like my default review of anything: "It would have been twice as good if it was half as long".
I like the stated concept of virtuosity. But once the artist is sufficiently decoupled from the structure of the event by their refined genius, are not all 'mistakes' demoted to 'variation'?
But, in my opinion, even if a definition could capture what’s art, it won’t be a lazy definition like "Art" is "better than I can do”. Art cannot be limited like that and there are many things people do “better than I can do”, which are not art.
Art has a long and complex history of grappling and negotiating with the role of skill, perspectives range from equating art with skill, over seeing skill as a tool for carrying out a vision to a conscious rejection of virtuosity. Even the rejection of virtuosity can create great art.
For example in dance, my profession, there are whole fields like postmodern dance or non-dance, which reject traditional dance skills, and non-dance artists like Jerome Bel create amazing, touching art, by authentically showing people failing to do “better than I can do”.
(Although you could maybe argue that in this case the artistry is just shifted to another level, the level of composition and ideas instead of the dance itself.)
To see one example of how an artist reflects on the importance of skill/virtuosity in art, here’s an excerpt from Jonathan Burrows “A choregrapher’s handbook”:
“Virtuosity is just another way to help the audience to care what happens next.
Virtuosity raises the stakes to a place where the audience knows something may go wrong. They enjoy watching this negotiation with disaster. Will the performer fall, or forget what they’re doing, or will they get through it?
The resulting anticipation, poised on the brink of success or failure, suspends time in a moment of in-breath. This slowed-down time, in the midst of risk, is as much of a pleasure for the performer as for the audience.
However, if everything is virtuosic then there’s nothing against which to read the virtuosity: it has to be in balance with other modes of engagement.”