They say there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers. I thing something similar applies to making art too. Let’s say I decide to make a new conceptual piece. I take my time, carefully constructing my concept, picking the right materials and motif and get one of the best galleries I can to showcase my new work. And after months of labouring away in the studio, nobody gets it!

Sure, it would be hard to get an exhibition without at least the curator’s approval, but my point is: we may spend so much time working on new projects, really investing our emotions into their completion and when finally done, not a soul gets the message we were trying to communicate. Who’s to blame? Surely it must be the audience; those suckers couldn’t tell an original Koons from a PornHub screenshot, but is this really what is going on or could it be that maybe, maybe we never really thought about the viewer and his or her experience when creating our work?

It’s easy to get carried away by beautiful concepts and seemingly clear ideas, but the reality is, many people just don’t have either the background we have or the experiences we created during our lifetime or even the empathy to perceive certain aspects of life in the same way we do. And the big point to take home here is, we cannot count on our ability to change that.

Imagine the last time you had a conversation with someone about a topic, maybe politics or religion or gender issues and you just couldn’t find common ground; maybe because they were flat out wrong or maybe because you never had it right in the first place. Maybe both of you were wrong, in the end it all depends on two important factors; facts and ideology.

To argue with a flat-earther that our planet is round is like trying to make a child understand that while chocolate and fried food do taste delicious, it’s better to eat a nice kale salad with Brussels sprouts, because there’s so much potassium in it and that we need about 4 grams per day to be healthy. The facts are clear (check any medical journal not funded by McDonalds), but how both of you interpret them is not only different, you might as well be speaking in different languages.

Our beliefs in form of ideological structures dictate our behaviour and they make us see only parts of what life has to offer, and while most facts have been more or less the same for centuries — even people form the thirteenth century needed about 4 grams of potassium per day — their idea of a healthy lifestyle was getting their blood drained by leeches.

And ideologies guide our understanding of art in the same way. If you are someone who firmly believes in Jesus and the teachings of the Catholic church and get a commission to produce a mural for an evolution research centre (stay with me here), and if you decide to make a giant image of how God created the universe and all its creatures, you’re probably going to have a bad time explaining your decision to the people in charge.

While the scientists may enjoy looking at the beautiful mural you made and probably know the story it depicts, it doesn’t  represent what they believe nor could they ever really internalise the mural’s message in form of faith and all the emotions that come with such a belief.

I am not saying there aren’t people in this world who just don’t get art, just can’t understand the point of pretty pictures and some fancy writing, but many times I feel like we also fail many of those who do enjoy the fruits of our labour, because we just don’t give enough attention to how they might see our work. I believe there is no art without someone that could experience it and that materials, ideas and execution are far from being unimportant, but the most important part is and, always will be, the viewer. So, why not think about them the next time you are preparing an exhibition.