Every so often, I find myself in a conversation with an artist who has just seen something—at a show, online, or even hanging in my gallery—and can’t quite believe it’s considered “art.” They’ll point to a piece and say, sometimes half-joking and sometimes genuinely troubled, “How does that count? How are they getting away with that?”
I understand the impulse. When you put tremendous discipline, skill, and intention into your own work, it can be baffling to watch someone else succeed with something that looks, at least on the surface, far simpler or looser than what you’re doing. And beneath that bafflement is a deeper worry: If that’s considered good, what does that say about my work? What does ‘good’ even mean anymore?
Those conversations always remind me how slippery the idea of “good art” really is. What resonates with one person may fall flat with another. What seems simplistic to one artist might feel profound to a viewer with different life experiences. And what feels unconventional—or even outrageous—today may be celebrated in time.
If anything, these moments are an invitation to step back from the idea that artistic value can be pinned to a single standard. It can’t. And the sooner we let go of the quest for an objective definition, the more freedom we have to create authentically and find the people who respond to what we do.
The Myth of an Objective Definition
The impulse to judge is human. We all do it. But art resists any attempt to turn judgment into a tidy equation.
What makes one person pause in front of a quiet landscape might leave someone else cold. A photograph that feels deeply moving to one viewer might register as ordinary to another. Even artists—perhaps especially artists—project their own tastes and values onto the work they see, which makes it easy to believe there’s a clear hierarchy.
But when you strip away the emotional reaction, there’s simply no objective standard that can hold up in all contexts. If there were, we’d all be making the same kind of work—and the art world would be unbearably dull.
The diversity of response is the point.
Why History Undermines Any Stable Definition of “Good”
Every era has its story of work that was mocked, misunderstood, or dismissed—only to be lionized later. Movements now considered essential were once treated as affronts to tradition. Entire genres were accused of being unserious or lacking skill.
The work didn’t change.
The world changed around it.
This alone should make any artist wary of drawing a hard line between “good” and “not good.” So much depends on cultural shifts, emotional timing, personal history, and the willingness of viewers to meet a piece halfway. Today’s head-scratcher may become tomorrow’s watershed moment. And today’s comforting traditional work may speak with renewed power later on.
Judgment is often just a snapshot, not a verdict.
Your Real Job: Create Authentically and Find Your People
Because there’s no universal standard, chasing external validation is a losing game. Trying to guess what the market wants—or what a critic, gallery, or fellow artist will approve of—can easily push you away from the work that feels genuinely yours.
Your responsibility is simpler and harder: create from your point of view, with honesty and conviction.
When you do that consistently:
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Your work gains cohesion and depth.
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You stop measuring yourself against every passing trend.
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You attract the viewers who naturally respond to what you do.
Not everyone will connect with your work. They’re not supposed to. But the people who do—those are the ones who form the foundation of your market and your long-term momentum. That’s where the real energy is.
How Context Deepens Connection: The Role of the Artist Statement
One of the best ways to bridge the gap between your intention and a viewer’s experience is through your artist statement.
A statement doesn’t explain the work away or tell people what to think. It simply opens the door. It gives viewers a way to orient themselves—why you chose this subject, what drew you to the idea, what emotion or question lives beneath the surface.
I’ve seen countless situations where a piece didn’t initially resonate with someone. Then they learned a bit about the artist’s process or motivation, and suddenly the work took on new weight. The emotional connection came into focus.
Your statement is part of the offering.
It helps people enter the work, not just look at it.
When they understand the world you’re coming from, they often realize the work is speaking to them in a way they didn’t catch at first glance. And that deepens both the experience and the likelihood of lasting connection.
A Better Question Than “Is This Good?”
If “good” is too slippery to be useful—and it is—try replacing it with:
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Does this feel true to me?
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Does this communicate something meaningful?
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Will this resonate with someone who sees the world as I do?
Those questions lead to far more clarity and far less frustration.
Let other artists create what they create. Let other viewers respond how they respond. Let the marketplace sort itself out. Your job is to create work that reflects your vision—and then make it available to the people who will feel that spark of recognition when they encounter it.
That’s the real measure of success, and the one that actually builds a career.
What do you think?
How do you navigate your own ideas about what makes art “good”? Have you ever caught yourself surprised by something that resonated with a viewer—or something that didn’t? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Hi Jason. Here’s another angle. When I take 10 of my works in front of folks, I know as the artist whi h are definitely my favorites, and therefore which ones viewers “shoukd” consider the best. Ha. It never fails that the viewers Always pick differently than me the art maker. How on earth could this dichotomy happen? Everybody has different tastes!
Art is created personally by the artist whether classic, academic, abstract, expressive, non-objective, etc. Art is also viewed personally by the viewer. Whether the piece is perfectly done technically or without any kind of discipline at all, a trained eye, an experienced eye or novice each may come up with a different point of view of “good”….whatever good is supposed to be. It’s the eye of the beholder. Yes there is plenty of bad art, as well as, wonderful art.
Totally agree with the sentiments in this post Jason. Appreciate you re-inforcing what I already know. Paint what you love, everything will fall into place after that. Your passion will show through directly to the audience. Trust your gut.
Another ‘comparison’ that I find myself asking is whether realism is art, I don’t ‘get’ why anybody wants that on their wall… it feels like it’s too safe, not much of a conversation piece, just something in the background — so why not put a photo that you have shot on your wall instead because wouldn’t your photo have more to converse about than an artist’s super realistic painting?
BTW, could you post a couple of examples of good artists statements and maybe what makes them work?
I couldn’t agree with you more on your realism comment!
One of my teachers encouraged us as art students to do more looking and less talking about what we thought we were seeing. She suggested that the more we looked, both at an individual work and at a big variety of works, as often as possible, the more likely we were to develop our own discernment about what makes “just art”, “good art” and “magnificent art”. Looking, feeling and thinking about artworks before rushing to judgement makes the whole experience richer. Making an effort to carefully “see” a work before opening our mouths to talk about it opened up a whole new world of art appreciation for me and my colleagues. Art is fundamentally a conversation between the artist and the viewer at an emotional level. It takes time to experience what is being expressed.
As an artist and collector, my model is “good art is art that I like.” It works for me and frankly I believe most collectors or buyers think the same way in reality.
Interestingly though, many artists, myself included, who are creating ‘good’ art, will, if you caught them in an honest moment, would be able to tell you which of their paintings they think are not good.
You are right about one thing: the majority of people have no “trained eye” to understand the problems with many paintings. I see the words “wonderful” or “amazing” used so often, but I see an “art” that is good as wallpaper at best, not to mention the technical problems with the paintings. There are many folks who scream exactly the same words when they look at AI software creation that is not realizing the fact that “the ship cannot stay very close to the coastline. or it will be overturned – a simple physics”. Yet, people don’t see it. They have no trained eye and have no taste for really good art. Therefore, they buy cheap, palette-like paintings, while exquisite paintings go unnoticed. It is a source of struggles for every good artist. When I see some pieces at Xanadu Gallery and their exorbitant prices next to them, I feel frustrated, but good luck to those who convinced Jason to post them.
Good post. I’ve come to believe that Artists are generally the LAST people to know what is ‘good’- & that really isn’t our concern. Making the Art is. Yes, I sometimes see work & think to myself “I am working WAY too hard’ haha, but I’ve also learned I work as I work, & can’t really alter my approach. It’s not up to me to decided if my Art ‘qualifies’- that’s up to others. All I can do is paint what interests ME. That’s what it means to be an Artist. To funnel my experiences, education, & energy into Imagery. Anything beyond that is someone else’s job. Happy Holidays all ~
I think it is too easy to conflate what is ‘good’, with what ‘I like’. It all depends on one’s definition of ‘good’. There are standards I can use to assess whether a work is, objectively, ‘good’. Is the work well executed in the artist’s medium/media of choice? Is the work successful in terms of the elements and principles of composition? Beyond these basic levels of competence, does the work say something? Is it intellectually stimulating, emotionally moving, spiritually uplifting and/or aesthetically engaging? Does it have the power to pull me into a dialogue with it, whether it appeals to me personally, or not? in addition to providing context and story, a well-written artist statement will help me to determine whether the work has fulfilled the artist’s intention.
At art school, I was taught to critique work based on these criteria, and I learned that what I like and what I consider to be good are not always present in a single work of art. I do not equate ‘good’ with any particular style, genre, subject or medium (including conceptual/installation art), nor do I equate it with whether a work is objective abstraction, academic realism or expressionism. As an artist, I do my best to create competent work, from my whole being, that means something to me, and that, hopefully, embodies the universal in the particular. As a collector, I buy what engages me aesthetically and speaks to me personally. ‘Good’ or ‘Bad’, I buy what I love.
There is no good or bad art because it is in the perception of the viewer. just like value$ it fluctuates according to the client. At best as a collector buy what speaks, as an artist create your best vision for yourself and let the marketplace or viewers handle the rest. i often go through contemporary art fairs with art dealer friends whose tastes and motivations are polar opposites to my own. it amazes me what their selections are and why when i in many cases see somewhat limited skills in most of the works on display. then my preference goes to realism so the little french impressionist work with the price tag of 500,000 for an 9×12 appeals. they see nothing in it. By contrast the warhol for 500,000 has no value to myself.
When I had my own gallery, I saw this time and again, until it drummed itself into my tiny, protesting brain: there is no accounting for some people’s taste. What people like is as intrinsic to them, as whether their eyes are blue or brown. It is that wound into their psyche thanks to their upbringing, education, where they live, the way they think. They can be educated, they can respond to their life situation, and they can be shown different/current styles, but their initial response has it’s roots deep within them and will always remain the major factor.
I say that with some sorrow, being a Southwestern landscape painter in a town which believes in Cowboy Contemporary.
Excellent commentary! One of your best. It takes courage to stay on your own path, and it may not come with monetary rewards, but the artist’s job is to confront their own reality. Writing an authentic statement about your work is an important bridge to the viewer. Thoughtful titles can also express the artist’s intent. But viewers also have to be allowed to interpret the work in ways that are meaningful to them.
There’s good art, bad art, and then there’s the kind of work that just feels lazy because it’s blatantly riding on someone else’s ideas. That’s the stuff that really gets under my skin. My local scene already feels pretty limited and the most extreme example is an artist whose entire body of work is basically repackaging Picasso’s Cubist period. And I don’t mean Picasso as an influence, which is completely normal and unavoidable. I mean paintings that are so close to Pablo’s work they’re essentially knockoffs.
They’re not ugly. They “work” visually. But if anyone has even a basic awareness of modern art, it’s obvious what’s going on here. What makes it frustrating is that this work shows and sells, while artists who are sincerely trying to build something over time, experimenting, failing, refining, developing a real point of view, are often ignored.
It feels very trend-driven, like the tape-masked geometric paintings that flooded Instagram for years. Based on the artist’s age, it’s hard not to assume this is coming straight out of social media rather than any sustained engagement with art history or ideas.
The part that really stings is that a well-respected local museum sells these paintings and even puts reproductions on tote bags in their shop. Once that happens, it stops feeling like a harmless local quirk and starts to feel like an institutional endorsement of imitation. Maybe this is just a phase and it’ll pass. Maybe not. Either way, it’s depressing, not just in terms of what gets labeled “good” or “bad” art, but in what seems to be increasingly accepted as art in the first place.
Thanks for this thoughtful article, Jason!
Your comment says it all, Jason and I completely agree.! What a sad world this would be if everyone liked or disliked the same things!!
It all depends on the person perspective of seeing the artwork ..one may see it as the artist does others may see it differently..