Is Painting About Truth? What Is Truth?
Before one can adequately address the former part of this question, it is necessary to have spent some time in consideration of the latter. While Pilate's treatment of the question "What is truth?" may have been flippant and arrogant--uttering it with the derisive scorn characteristic of those whose concerns attach themselves to the base and worldly--the question nevertheless persists, manifesting at some point in every human consciousness. It emanates from deep within the soul, the very place where art, true are, originates and should travel to in others.
Truth, in my opinion, is an ineffable experience of serene confirmation, a calmness which speaks not to the mind but to some other aspect of a human being. The truth of mind is temporal, transient, constantly in flux according to the ever-changing landscape of thoughts and speculations. It is subject to distortion and the powers of rationalization. But the other truth, that truth which speaks to the heart, soul, intuition, inner self, call it what you will, that truth which is sensed by an organ wholly other from the mind, yet equally as valid in its confirmations and convictions, this is the truth which can be experienced through art.
As I sit here and ponder this question, two distinct aspects of art come to mind which allow us, through the experience of them, access to this "higher truth".
These two aspects in fact work in concert to show us said truth. They are beauty and liberation.
Beauty is, of course, in the eye of the beholder, so I can only refer to my own personal concept of it in examples given to support my assertions. But take, for example, "Ophelia" by Millais. I find this painting truly beautiful. The nature setting, the girl herself, even the literary basis, all contribute to the experience of beauty I get looking at it. The Pre-Raphaelite ideal of feminine beauty coincides with my own, and I'm a great fan of Shakespeare, so these factors, together with the color and meticulous accuracy of the flowers and plant life, really make this painting "work" for me: I experience beauty. I am elevated temporarily, I am liberated if you will, from the from the mundane moment-to-moment experience of life.
This feeling of liberation is called "moksha" by Buddhist monks who spend much time in meditation to achieve and ultimately sustain it. It is at once beauty, truth, exaltation. There are many modes of experiencing it, art being on of the most immediate. Music, too, can have the same effect; it simply depends on what wavelength the individual is tuned to. Some people are more visual, some respond more freely and directly to sound, and still others, such as myself, are more cerebral, experiencing beauty most readily through words, as in literature or poetry.
Beauty is a relative concept however, and the truth of beauty, or the beauty of truth for that matter, varies with each human being and so affects each human being's experience of art. Fortunately for us in the twentieth century we have the whole history of art, stretching back to prehistoric cave paintings and progressing up to the present, literally millions of years of accumulated human artistic effort, from which to choose those works of art which appeal to that beauty-sense in each of us.
There have been so many attitudes, techniques, movements, revo-lutions, and counter-revolutions in the world of art that anyone, even the least erudite, can find something, some style or period which speaks uniquely to them and says "beauty", thus opening the door to that experience of truth. One individual might find idealized portraiture appealing, and so would enjoy Reynolds. Another might be drawn to whimsical, narrative social satire of eighteenth century England and so enjoy Hogarth. Demented psychia-trists, wandering aimlessly through art galleries with rorschach tests clutched in both hands, would most probably stop, transfixed in a sudden beatitude, before a Pollack or a Rothko. Those particularly drawn to paintings emphasizing light and color would certainly find a lot to enjoy in the impressionist movement, and so on.
But what if there is no beauty in a work of art? What if an artist deliberately set out to make something vile and repugnant? Would this still offer the experience of truth? Perhaps. I've often heart it said that the purpose of art is to evoke an emotional response in the viewer and nothing more; here we must be very careful. We are venturing very near the land of pretension. I feel that the true purpose of art is to convey that special truth--it isn't enough to simply get a rise out of someone. The work doesn't necessarily have to be beautiful, but it should take you somewhere outside (or inside) yourself, somewhere higher (or deeper). It's always possible to over-intellectualize something beyond its actual worth, and art, being such a visual medium and consequently so sub-jective and experience, is often exploited by those who would read an abundance of meaning into a lack of substance.
So my answer is a resounding yes: Painting is about truth, in fact truth is precisely what it's all about. Just what that truth is is for each individual to determine for his or her self, but once determined, it should be sought out and considered a requisite component of the experience and appreciation of art.
"There is no religion higher than truth."