Ten years ago, in his gallery talk, Carter Ratcliff, the juror of ALLI’s Long Island Art Exhibition, showed himself to be the very embodiment of the value-free observer of the art of our time. As opposed to critics who take the position that political or cultural values are more important than technique, Ratcliff takes no sides. In contrast to the likes of Clement Greenberg, he expounds no manifesto. Without analytical underpinnings, he comes closest, perhaps, to the views of Arthur Danto, whose writings on contemporary aesthetic and philosophic issues of art have put him in great demand in the lecture halls.

Arguably our leading theoretician, Danto holds that art, as a narrative progression leading from the Renaissance, through the dizzying development of styles at the end of the 19th Century, to the eclipse of Abstract Expressionism, has come to an end. Customary notions of aesthetics no longer apply; everything is possible; pluralism is inevitable. Landscape, still life and figure painting are once again legitimate.

Ratcliff would seem to concur. As he noted in his talk, traditional forms have not only persisted, but have thrived. Making this possible is the realization that the ideal of paring down art to its essences has reached a dead end. In obeying the dictates of Clement Greenberg, the guru of the sixties who insisted that painting respect the flatness of the canvas and eschew subject matter in favor of pure form, artists over the subsequent decades have been on an impossible quest for purity. A parade of styles followed one after the other, each trying to distill art’s essences—geometric abstraction, action painting, drip painting, color field painting, pattern and decoration, minimalism. Painters wanted to see what they could leave out, and in the end found they could go only so far. In reducing itself to one aspect of painting, each movement fell into some trap of its own inadequacy. Even the so-called painting about paint was guilty of having a subject—the qualities of paint. The apocalyptic end never arrived.

More recent has been the notion that art couldn’t be credible unless it was keyed to the technology of the day. The idea is still there—think of video art—but it, too, no longer dominates. An incredible resurgence of traditional art, especially figurative art, has asserted itself. Portraiture, according to Ratcliff, enlivens us by reminding us of the existence of other people, the modern portrait more like a mirror that brings us face to face with another human being.

Were Ratcliff to visit the Art League’s portrait exhibition, A Common Thread, I feel he would revel in its variety and exuberance. Furthermore, the response to contemporary portraiture is as individual as the styles portrayed. Some viewers are moved by technical mastery, some by a poetic or haunting element, others, perhaps, by an idiosyncratic pose or point of view. One visitor to the gallery suggested it might be interesting to ask people which portrait subject they would most like to meet and chat with. Another approach might be to ask which artist one would most like to meet.

Perhaps it is this assertion of individuality that sets 21st century portraits apart from those of the past. As products of our particular time, we cannot imagine what the portraits of the future might be like. We can only feel certain that portraiture will persist.

Pat Ralph