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Amir Pichhadze

When Is an Artwork Finished? Revisiting the Question

When is an artwork finished?

 

Ann Landi, a contributing Editor of ARTnews, wrote an article that explored the question of when an artwork is finished.[1] The article shared the varied views of numerous artists. Landi pointed out that for some artists the creative process ends when the artwork is physically removed from the artist, for some it is an intuitive decision, for some an artwork is never completed, while for some the problem is not with knowing when to finish but rather in deciding when it is overdone. Some recycle elements from one project to the next and perhaps forestall the postpartum blues. This article aims to provide another perspective on the question, based on my own experiences as a visual artist.

 

The dynamic interrelationship between art and other social spheres

 

Art is, or at least could be, interrelated with other social spheres such as politics, law, the economy, social organizations, religion, culture, or technology. In this interrelationship, art is and/or could be affected by other spheres. It could also be used to respond to and/or affect other spheres.

 

The methods by which art is created may be affected by the availably of mediums at any given time. For example, some notable modern technologies that have added to traditional mediums (such as painting using oils, pastels, acrylics, or watercolours) include the invention of photography, motion pictures, and computer software. More recently, Artificial Intelligence (AI) is emerging as a new way by which to create art, or to facilitate the creation of art. Notably, this method also gives rise to a renewed questioning of our understanding of what art is and the role of artists. Liz Mineo explored the opinions of different Harvard faculty members involved in the production of different types of art about whether something generated by AI can still be considered art and whether they see AI as a threat, a collaborator, or a tool to further their own creativity and imagination.[2]

 

The subject matter of art may also be affected by external influences from other spheres, such as artworks that are commissioned to convey information about religion, politics, social status, culture, history and identity. For example, artworks created during the Renaissance were typically commissioned by religious institutions and wealthy people to glorify God, the Church, and themselves.

 

While art could be affected by other social spheres, it can also be used to affect other social spheres. For example, there are numerous artworks that have been used to record and react to circumstances (eg war) and issues (eg peace) in other spheres (eg politics), and/or attempt to influence the audience’s views and behaviour with regards to other spheres, eg by expressing anti-war protest. Guernica, by Pablo Picasso, is such a painting. Using visual clues to refer to the bombing of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War, Picasso deployed metaphors and symbols to communicate an anti-war message.

 

The practice of art also affects the law, giving rise to legal issues such as the regulation and protection of intellectual property. A notable recent legal issue involves the use of AI in creating art. Court have recently been, and are at present, considering whether art created by AI should be, and/or is, protected by copyright.[3]

 

Art could also affect other social practices. For example, Italian architect Filippo Brunelleschi, in the early 1400s, is credited with having developed the technique of linear perspective to create the illusion of depth and three-dimensionality on a flat surface. This technique was subsequently used by other artists in their paintings, such as works by Leonardo da Vinci and Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino. Such techniques have influenced and guided scientific advancements in fields such as astronomy and anatomy. Another example is collage art, practiced by artists such as Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque. Collage art has influenced the development of modern practices of graphic art design, as can be seen in advertisements and fashion.

 

In addition to visual art, other forms of art, such as music, may also have an interrelationship with other social spheres. For example, on the same topic of war and peace, there are numerous influential political songs, some of which are listed by the Capitol Theatre. The Capitol Theatre suggests that perhaps John Lennon’s most significant musical contribution to the peace movement was his song ‘Imagine’, which invites us to question our values and understanding of the world we live in, and to imagine one which is simpler and where all live in peace.[4] The Theatre opines that ‘the importance of “Imagine” will continue to live on as it should, and holds a precious place in the hearts of those who yearn for peace’.[5] Note that Lennon’s message in ‘Imagine’ is universally relevant and applicable. In contrast, some songs focus on making references to and responding to more specific historical events and their implications. For example, Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth’ reflects on the unrest that occurred in the US during the Vietnam war.[6] The lyrics of the song call on us to pay attention to protests that morph into riots, and instead to turn our hearts to peace. Notably, this distinction between universal and specific messages is also manifested in my artworks, two of which are discussed next. One of these works, which was created in 1995, is focused on responding to a particular historical event while the other, created in 2024, communicates a universally applicable message which is not confined to specific events or circumstances.

 

Considering that society exits in a constant state of flux (eg due to factors such as changing political circumstances), and considering as well that the artist’s objectives may also change over time (possibly in response to changed/changing conditions, or due to some other reasons such as changed/changing personal political views and objectives), artists may at some point need or want to rethink their artwork to fulfil their prior or changed objectives. This process could take any length and may happen at any point within the artist’s lifetime. Also, artists may seek to continually develop their approach to creating art, perhaps by using new mediums, and may need and/or want to rethink and redo their artwork (eg by using new technologies). With this in mind, next I will exemplify these types of possible scenarios through my own experiences. As will be explained, with respect to my artwork from 1995, as my objectives and approaches changed over time, in response to changed socio-political circumstances as well as changed technological opportunities, I revisited and modified that painting in 2024, both in its content and purpose as well as the methods by which it was created. Based on this personal experience, I will conclude by providing my insight about the question of when art can and/or should be deemed finished, if at all.

 

Art as an ongoing dynamic process of creation: a personal example

 

My changing objectives over time in response to changing circumstances

 

On November 4, 1995, the Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin participated in an anti-violence rally that supported the Oslo peace process. At this rally, Rabin was assassinated by Yigal Amir, a far-right law student at Bar-Ilan University who reportedly opposed Rabin’s peace initiatives. Subsequently, in May 1996, Benjamin Netanyahu was elected Prime Minister of Israel.

 

In September 1996, Peace Magazine asked whether peace was still possible.[7] One commentator, Diana Zisserman-Brodsky, asked how far PM Netanyahu would be ready to go to promote peace.[8] Another commentator, Gennady Dertkin, maintained an optimistic perspective.[9] In doing so, he referred to a painting I created (fig 1) to commemorate the tragedy of Rabin’s assassination while also trying to inspire optimism about the prospects of future peace within Israel and between Israel and its neighbours.


Fig 1. A Commemoration of a Jewish Tragedy (Amir Pichhadze 1995, pastel, 32 x 40 in).

Miriam Chinsky described the painting as a searing probe into Rabin’s assassination at the hands of a Jewish man—the enemy from within. As she explained,

 

[s]een in the aftermath of the murder, a grieving man crouches, head bowed, before Rabin’s flag-draped coffin with a broken Magen David representing unity gone awry. A portion of the flag is wrapped around the man’s legs and covers his feet. His hands are bloodied and behind him is a blood-spattered copy of Shir Lashalom (Song of Peace), which Rabin had at the moment he was killed. An obvious bullet hole is a reminder of the method of assassination.

 

The man is the Jewish People, torn by political and religious strife. He mourns the death, yet the infighting marks him as it does all those who cannot or will not come to peaceful terms with their differences. The song sheet is colored in reverse, white lettering on a black background to accent the darkness of the act and its consequences. But one corner, curled forward, pristine white against the sky, signifies a glimmer of hope.

 

She goes on to question whether this is ‘Pichhadze’s youthful optimism’.[10]

 

In view of my inputs on this issue in the past, while I was studying at the University of Oxford in 2020, I was asked to comment on the prospects of peace in the Middle East in light of new peace accords between Israel, the UAE, and Morocco at the time.[11] Considering the mixed reactions at the time regarding those accords, I suggested that it remained to be seen to what extent, if at all, these developments would pave the way towards comprehensive regional peace as well as the formation of new transnational and international forms of cooperation. In my conclusion, I recognized that the outcome would depend on an array of factors, and I held on to my ‘youthful optimism’ about peace.

 

Skipping forward to the present, regrettably my optimism has been put into question. The Middle East has been troubled by new conflicts, and there are ongoing doubts about the prospects of domestic and regional peace. This includes Israel’s conflict with some of its neighbours over the past months as well as the recent overthrow of Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria by Sunni opposition forces. These conflicts have also sparked unprecedented levels and forms of civil strife globally, particularly in the form of violent and non-violent protests. Hence, the call for peace is increasingly relevant globally.

 

Through my painting from 1995, my objective was to commemorate a particular historical event—the assassination of an Israeli Prime Minister, which was sparked by political strife—and to convey hope that that dark page in history could be brought down, the grey clouds of the moment would disperse, and the hope for peace remains. Given my ongoing use of art as a form of expression and to react to historical events and attempt to influence social and political change, I recently found myself inclined to rethink my previous objectives and composition. Rather than focusing on a specific historical event and context, and responding to it, my new objective is to identify a universal issue—the issue of conflict and peace—and to utilize my art to supplement and re-enforce a necessary socio-political message: a call for peace. My new objective assumes that, by-and-large, there exists a universal quest for peace, and that this quest could be fuelled through art.

 

Changes in the content of my painting


My approach to communicating my message maintained my reference to and use of the lyrics of the ‘Song for Peace,[12] since its pro-peace message is universally applicable and timeless. Influenced by Anglo-American anti-war songs of the 1960s, the song departs from other songs at the time in Israel, which glorified war and created an ethos that memorialized fallen soldiers, such as the song ‘Battle of Ammunition’ which reflects on solders’ experiences during the Six-Day-War in 1967.[13] In contrast, the Song for Peace reminds that prayers will not bring back the dead. It calls on people to sing a song for love rather than war. During the peace rally on November 4, 1995, those at the podium—Miri Aloni, the groups Gevatron and Irusim, and the statesmen Shimon Peres and Yitzhak Rabin—led the crowd in singing this Song for Peace. Just after the rally ended, Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated. In his shirt pocket was found a page with the song’s lyrics, stained with his blood.

 

In my painting from 1995, I reproduced an image of this blood-stained page to implicitly refer to the specific historical event of Rabin’s assassination. Another implicit reference was the corner of the coffin covered by an Israeli flag. My purpose was to commemorate a particular historical event and convey my reaction to it: the hope that this dark page in Jewish history and the grey clouds suggestive of the gloom of that moment could be transcended and that peace, if sought, could be realized. In my new composition, from 2024, I maintain the page from the ‘Song for Peace’ to suggest the risk of universally undesirable consequences of conflict (political assassination, and more generally harm), and to utilize and supplement through visual drama the universal pro-peace message of the song.


Yet I removed the coffin that was covered by an Israeli flag, since my intended message is that the consequences of conflict are universal. The grieving person is no longer a representation of Israeli society; rather, he represents people generally.


The red hands also remain in the 2024 composition, to remind that people generally could be directly or indirectly to blame for failing to choose peace and turning to conflict. In other words, symbolically, people universally risk having blood on their hands due to their choices and actions.


Fig 2. A Call for Peace (Amir Pichhadze 2024, mixed media).

A notable feature of my revised painting is to give visual expression to some of the messages conveyed by the lyrics in the song, in the hope of amplifying them. For example, the lyrics warn that ‘he whose candle was snuffed out, and was buried in the dust, a bitter cry won’t wake him, won’t bring him back. Nobody will return us from the dead dark pit. Here, neither the victory cheer nor songs of praise will help’.[14] In my painting, I attempt to provide a visual expression of the gloominess of a pit surrounded by darkness and draping colours that are suggestive of drenched blood.

 

Also notable is my reference to the clouds. In the 1995 version, the clouds are merely grey, suggestive of temporary feelings of worry, of problems and unhappiness. Yet, in light of more recent turn out of events, which have now escalated into regional wars and civil strife around the world, I have intensified the suggestion of gloominess by making the clouds darker. The message is that, unless people intentionally turn to peace, the risks involved could be increasingly severe and prolonged. With this darker reality, the song’s call to let the sun rays penetrate and shine is, I hope, amplified. Nevertheless, to maintain optimism about the future I have kept the forward leaning fold in the Song for Peace sheet, with the opposite side of the sheet still coloured in white. War and peace are a matter of choice, and hopefully people will choose the path of peace. The objectives of peace and unity need not be mere wishful thinking, though attaining these goals would require the right courses of action. As the song of peace cautions and urges, ‘don’t say the day will come, bring the day because it is not a dream; and within all the city’s squares, cheer only peace’.[15]

 

Changes in medium

 

When I created the painting in 1995, I was primarily familiar with and had access to more traditional mediums of art. I chose to create the painting using soft pastels. In more recent years, I have become familiar with other technologies such as computer software. With these new tools, I was able to create the new composition, of 2024, using a mix of different mediums, including digital technologies. Hence, my approach to creating my art has been influenced by, and have changed, based on newly available technologies.

 

Conclusion

 

It may be that the question ‘when is an artwork finished?’ is common and of interest. However, I would suggest that it is not necessarily, and arguably should not be, a pertinent question. While some artists work towards and may struggle with the pursuit of creating a finished piece of artwork, some give priority and/or focus to the process of art creation such that part or the whole of the artwork’s subject is the making of the work. ‘Process Art’ as a movement can be seen at the Guggenheim and the Tate, whose collections include works by artists from the mid-1960s and late and 1970s in Europe and the US.[16]

 

Even if the artist does not explicitly construct his/her composition to reveal the process of art creation, as exemplified by artworks associated with the ‘Process Art’ movement, the artmaking process could also be revealed through a collection of works that were created over time, where such sketches (or works-in-progress) exist. For example, a current exhibition at the Walters Art Museum in the US is titled ‘Art and Process: Drawing, Paintings, and Sculptures from the 19th Century Collection’. As the Museum explains:

 

The typical experience for a museum visitor involves a lot of close looking, but no amount of observation can quite reveal to a viewer how an artist arrived at their final composition. So, what becomes of the numerous sketches a painter creates before they touch oils? Or the meticulous measurements a sculptor makes before a bronze is cast?

 

The Walters Art Museum’s extensive collection of 19th-century works on paper offers insight into painters’ and sculptors’ artistic practice. Drawings and sketches often record the choices made by an artist, however, preparatory studies often don’t survive, and those that do are rarely exhibited due to their light sensitivity. In Art and Process: Drawings, Paintings, and Sculptures from the 19th-Century Collection, visitors can experience 60 works from the museum’s permanent collection, including 30 works on paper (pastel, graphite, charcoal, and watercolour) and 23 oil paintings, as well as works in bronze, porcelain, and terracotta, reminding us that when we view an artwork in a museum, what we’re really seeing is the endpoint in a dynamic process that may have been long, and involved many twists and turns.[17]

 

Regardless of whether the artist’s objective is, or was, to create a finished artwork or to create art that revealed the process of creation, my intended messages are that: (i) artists can and should remain open to continually rethink and revise their artworks (and/or the process by which they create their artwork) in order to achieve their objectives, which may change over time; and (ii) artists should be capable of, and open to, utilizing changing opportunities such as the use of new technologies to create (or recreate) their art as desired or need be.

 

For example, my objectives in the 1995 version of my artworks were narrow: to make reference to and commemorate a particular historical event (the political assassination of the Israeli PM, which reportedly was driven by civil strife) and to express hope for a more peaceful future within that Israeli context, by suggesting that the dark page in Jewish history could be turned over by choosing peace. Yet, many years after, based on changing socio-political circumstances (the global spread of civil strife and the risks of new regional and world wars), I have come to recognize and appreciate that my call for peace is relevant globally, and therefore my composition can and should be revised to communicate a more universal call for peace. Moreover, I took the opportunity to utilize new technologies, by recreating my composition using a mix of mediums.  

 

Such a dynamic and ongoing process of rethinking and evolution is not unique to the arts. It is also necessary for, and can be witnessed within, other social systems. For example, laws are continually rethought and, if need be, changed in order to achieve existing or new objectives, and to adjust to changing circumstances and conditions in other social spheres. As the Government of Canada explains:

 

Every day, we hear about social issues, medical developments, and new types of technology. All of these raise moral and legal questions. These kinds of changes mean we need to constantly reform our laws so we can make sure that our system of law and justice meets the challenges of our society.

 

As our society grows and develops, it cannot rely entirely on tradition. Sometimes new laws are needed or old laws need to be changed.

 

As people change the way they live and work, some laws may become obsolete. Or new situations may arise that no existing law deals with. For example, old laws against theft did not foresee identity theft or online harassment. The same technology that enables one person to find information about another also makes it possible to steal information that was meant to be private.

 

More than just changing laws, we may need to change the system of law and justice itself. For instance, in our complex society it can take years to settle disputes. As our court system is stretched to the limit, other, less formal ways may help people settle their disputes. Some informal mediation methods, such as in landlord-tenant disputes, are already being used…

 

Government legal experts are constantly examining our laws and looking for ways to improve them. Law reform committees also review laws and recommend changes. Lawyers bring questions of law to court to create change. Social action groups seek changes to laws that they consider unfair to members of Canadian society. Industry groups and other stakeholders meet with government decision makers in an effort to present their opinions on the direction of public policy. Legislators in the federal, provincial, and territorial governments respond by introducing new laws or changing old ones.[18]

 

Another example is the sphere of education. Approaches to teaching are, or at least should be, continually rethought in light of changing needs, objectives, and circumstances. In Canada, for example, the stated strategic plan of Osgoode Hall Law School for 2021-2025 aims to develop engaged legal education ‘through dynamic curriculum development that responds to current and potential future social challenges’. In pursuit of this aim, Osgoode Hall has undertaken the initiative to ‘evaluate the current array of experiential learning programs, including identifying opportunities for new programs where there are gaps’.[19]

 

In conclusion, I suggest that artists could/should be open to continually rethink and change their artworks and/or their artmaking process as need be, as desired, and/or as it becomes possible under different circumstances and conditions. The question of when an artwork is finished need not be, and arguably should not be, treated as pertinent. The creation of art can, and arguably should, be accepted and approached as an ongoing process.

 

Amir Pichhadze


Dr. Amir Pichhadze is a Renaissance man. Driven by his varying interests and utilizing his mixed talents, skills, and diverse knowledge, Amir’s activities have been impactful in a range of spheres. His activities have included creating visual art, working as an art dealer, lecturing and teaching at universities and conferences worldwide, conducting and publishing academic research on a range of subjects, providing policy advice to government agencies, editing law journals, providing peer-reviews of journal submissions, working as treasurer, conducting philanthropic projects, among other things. Under the guidance of and in collaboration with his father, the master artist Jacob Pichhadze, Amir has been creating visual art using a range of mediums, styles and techniques, and explores different subject matters. At York University, where Amir studied Visual Arts, Professor Ken Carpenter, the former Visual Arts Department Chair and President of the Canadian Section of the International Association of Art Critics (AICA Canada), commented that 'in the history of the Visual Arts Department we have not previously had an occasion like this where a student has shown the particular kind of ability that Amir has shown. We are very proud of Amir!' (Canadian Jewish News, April 23, 1998).

 

[1] Ann Landi, ‘When Is an Artwork Finished?‘ (ARTnews, 24 February 2014) <https://www.artnews.com/art-news/news/when-is-an-artwork-finished-2383> accessed 10 December 2024.

[2] Liz Mineo, ‘If it wasn’t created by a human artist, is it still art?’ (The Harvard Gazette, 15 August 2023) <https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2023/08/is-art-generated-by-artificial-intelligence-real-art/> accessed 10 December 2024.

[3] See Maya Medeiros, David Yi, and Imran Ahmad, ‘Can AI be an author? Federal Court asked to decide in new copyright case’ (Norton Rose Fulbright, 6 August 2024) <https://www.nortonrosefulbright.com/en/knowledge/publications/ad12aba2/can-ai-be-an-author-federal-court-asked-to-decide-in-new-copyright-case> accessed 10 December 2024.

[4] See ‘John Lennon - Imagine (1971)’ (YouTube, 26 December 2009) <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6rBQ_hBpxc> accessed 16 December 2024.

[5] ‘International Day of Peace: 20 Songs About Peace’ (Capitol Theater) <https://www.thecapitoltheatre.com/blog/detail/international-day-of-peace-20-songs-about-peace>  accessed 10 December 2024.

[6] See ‘Buffalo Springfield - For What It’s Worth - Lyrics’ (YouTube, 5 July 2011) <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRV5LoOMyBk> accessed 16 December 2024.

[7] See ‘Israel: Is Peace Still Possible? Or have the Death of Rabin and the Election of Netanyahu Changed Everything?’ (Peace Magazine, Sep/Oct 1996) 23 <https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/article-peace-magazine-septoct-1996-dr-amir-pichhadze/> accessed 10 December 2024.

[8] Diana Zisserman-Brodsky, ‘Modest Charm Of Nationalism: The End Of The Fair Epoch’ (Peace Magazine, Sep/Oct 1996) <https://peacemagazine.org/archive/volno.php?q=v12n5p23> accessed 10 December 2024.

[9] Gennady Dertkin, ‘Let the Sun Rise’ (Peace Magazine, Sep/Oct 1996) <https://peacemagazine.org/archive/v12n5p24.htm> accessed 10 December 2024.

[10] Miriam Chinsky, ‘Young artist tackles contemporary issue’ The Canadian Jewish News (Toronto, 11 July 1996) <https://amirpichhadze.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/Amir_Pichhadze_CJA_Jul-11-1996_ENG.pdf> accessed 10 December 2024.

[11] See Amir Pichhadze, ‘The path towards peace in the Middle East’ (The Oxford Student, 21 October 2020) <https://www.oxfordstudent.com/2020/10/21/the-path-towards-peace-in-the-middle-east/> accessed 10 December 2024.

[12] See ‘Shir LaShalom (Song of Peace)’ (YouTube, 13 March 2012) <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9kzWyGNl6A> accessed 14 December 2024.

[13] See ‘Battle Of Ammunition Hill Israeli Six-Day-War Song’ (YouTube, 9 October 2023) <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dv0bIKeD5BY> accessed 16 December 2024.

[14] See ‘The Song for Peace’ (gov.il) <https://www.gov.il/en/pages/the-song-for-peace> accessed 10 December 2024.

[15] ibid.

[16] See ‘Process Art’ (Guggenheim) <https://www.guggenheim.org/artwork/movement/process-art> accessed 14 December 2024; ‘Process Art’ (Tate) <https://www.guggenheim.org/artwork/movement/process-art> accessed 14 December 2024.

[17] ‘Art and Process: Drawings, Paintings, and Sculptures from the 19th-Century Collection’ (The Walters Art Museum) <https://thewalters.org/exhibitions/art-process/> accessed 10 December 2024.

[18] ‘Keeping the law up to date’ (Government of Canada) <https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/just/04.html> accessed 10 December 2024.

[19] ‘Strategic Plan 2021–2025’ (Osgoode Hall Law School) <https://www.osgoode.yorku.ca/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/2021-2025_Strategic-Plan_FINAL.pdf> accessed 10 December 2024.

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