In the 21st century, in the age of self-publishing and the immediacy of information spread, being an artist is —it seems to me— more a matter of attitude or self-esteem, and a passion for public projection or self-promotion (or should I say personal marketing?), more than a natural or trained disposition to excel at producing artifacts that may be regarded as appealing to both the maker and the audience (in that order). It also appears to be a distinction, more often than not, bestowed upon oneself, rather than a recognition granted by someone else based on mastery, talent or ability towards the production of objects distinguishable for their aesthetic or communicative value.
(Of course, this is just my personal take on the matter and not a scientifically-proven fact.)
Even though dictionary definitions (pick your favorite) state that an artist is someone that is proficient in one of the arts (and by “proficient” it is expected to mean something as “fully skilled”), it seems to me the label now requires just two things: someone who can produce something that “speaks” to at least one of the senses (with varying levels of emotional stimulation), and a willingness to promote that result to a broader and perhaps like-minded audience.
Today’s artists have mass media and social networks at their disposal to freely and quickly position themselves through self-exposure —most of the time— or through a close-knit net of sympathizers acting as channels of dissemination. Critic or peer review filtration is no longer necessary as —it seemed to be— in the past. That may be why there are so many of them as of late.
I don’t mean this in a negative way. In fact, I believe mass communication has broadened the membership status of a once selective club to a wider group of people that have decided to become art makers rather than just art consumers or onlookers. And we owe technology for making creativity more accessible and open-minded, bypassing the exclusivity of the few —the masters of old— and giving the public freedom to choose what actually appeals to them. In a sense, art has become more democratic (and perhaps even more anarchic?), and so too has the definition of who we consider an artist.
Fractal explorers —sometimes self-identified as fractalists, quite a charming name, I say— are among the self-proclaimed and self-promoting artists that the digital age have nurtured, and they, too, long for recognition. And I don’t think this is merely a means to fuel personal egos, rather it seems to be a behavior aimed at elevating this trade, the art of deciphering fractal images, to the ranks of the admirable visual arts. Yet, as a group, there has been an ongoing sense of self-sustained inferiority for many years. For instance, consider these quotes from two well-known fractal art-related documents:
Fractal Art is a subclass of two dimensional visual art, and is in many respects similar to photography—another art form which was greeted by skepticism upon its arrival. (Kerry Mitchell, The Fractal Art Manifesto, 1999)
We sometimes have difficulty being included in art shows or in selling our work; we’re not always taken seriously, so to speak. We are treated as dabblers, pretenders, rather than as artists expressing ourselves through a new (relatively unexplored) medium. (Damien Jones, Of Fractals and Art, circa 1999)
Mitchell and Jones, almost 20 years ago —during the late 1990s’ boom of fractal image creation— used to be two of the most vocal and self-proclaimed fractal artists that, while having mastered the skills of the new computerized age, recognized the opinion of digital art detractors regarding their pictures. Others, such as Tim Hodkinson, himself a fractal explorer, have been more analytical about the subject, openly questioning the artistic dimension of fractal “art” in many of his writings (see the links at the end of this page for some of his posts).
Indeed, fractal art, like all other forms of computer-generated art, has faced resistance from the established traditional crowd, who seeks in its own forms an opinionated justification to, perhaps, maintain the status quo (or has it been the role of art critics?). Even worse, it has also had to contend with quarrels within its own claques, when some have tried to gain recognition by trampling over those they deem mere craftsmen.
Naturally, even if fractal pictures were to be considered an undisputed art form, not all fractal artists —if any— would gain wide acclaim (the same holds true for photographers or painters or actors: some do, some do not), but is that reason enough to automatically demote the collective as a whole? Like most “occult” practitioners of the arts, fractalists tend to work in closed quarters, away from the public eye. (Perhaps that’s why people involved in the performing arts, conditioned to public exposure, gain celebrity status more quickly than others, who usually maintain a shyer, behind-the-scenes profile.) On the other hand, should we use such a status —calling someone an artist— to validate an expression as being art?
Anyway, if fractal explorers, as a class, believe in what they do and are convinced it deserves the praise of the masses, chances are a handful of the billions of people inhabiting this world will be inclined to agree with them at some point. Channels for that abound. A specific audience is all it takes to instill our neurons with the necessary stimuli that may eventually lead to aesthetic gratification. If someone —anyone— achieves that through their work, then I think we may have a true artist.
(In any event, I think it’s the audience who ultimately decides the worth of an artist and of the fruits of his or her genius.)
Revised on 2025 April 22 for clarity.