The crisis of art in the age of immediacy

October, 2025

Bernardo Serrano Estrada

Nowadays, any object—a messy bed, a crumpled sheet, a banana taped to a wall—can be considered art if it's accompanied by an “intention” or some sort of narrative.

We're told that “everyone is free to express themselves however they want” and that “everything is subjective.” But is that really true?

Have we mistaken freedom for lack of discernment? Cultural democracy for mediocrity? Expression for craftsmanship?

How did we get to the point where concept is valued more than skill, and scandal more than mastery?

The Paradigm Shift: From Art as Discipline to Art as Discourse

For centuries, the artist was a master in every sense—not just in technique.

Leonardo da Vinci dissected bodies to understand movement.

Michelangelo sculpted marble as if it were living flesh.

Picasso mastered realism before deconstructing it through Cubism.

Today, by contrast, many who consider themselves “artists” show little interest in mastering any technique. A “supposed” intention, a narrative, a statement—that's often enough.

Art has shifted from being an object with “soul” to being a discourse; from craft to concept.

This isn’t to say that it’s inherently bad—conceptual art has its own history and value—but the problem arises when it is stripped of rigor and depth, and when any random idea is disguised as a critical proposal simply because it’s “disruptive” or “viral.”

Social Media and the Culture of Immediacy

The rise of social media has completely transformed the way we consume art and culture. Now:

Success is measured in likes, not in leaving a lasting impression.

What matters is what works fast, not what requires contemplation or study.

Momentary emotion replaces deep reflection.

Algorithm-driven culture rewards what is visually striking, controversial, and easily digestible. This has created an environment where artists often find themselves competing with influencers—and where art becomes content.

And most concerning of all: the constant saturation of information has made us less sensitive. Nothing truly impacts us anymore, and as a result, many genuine artists are forced to play the same game.

The Democratization of Art: Progress or Setback?

It’s often said that we live in an era of “total democratization”: anyone can voice an opinion on any topic, create, and identify as an artist—or even as a professional in any field—without the need for formal preparation.

And yes, this has opened important doors, especially for talented individuals who historically lacked access to platforms, resources, or visibility. In many cases, recognition was either unlikely or simply impossible.

However, not every personal expression should be considered a work of lasting artistic value, and not every opinion carries the same critical weight.

Carl Sagan once said:

“You are entitled to your own opinion. But you are not entitled to your own facts.”

Freedom of expression is essential—but it must be accompanied by discernment, education, knowledge, sensitivity, and context.

Misunderstood, democratization has led to a dangerous idea:

“If everyone likes it—or if the majority does—then it must be art.”

But art is not just about taste.

Art without rigor becomes fleeting entertainment.

And What About the New Great Masters? Do Great Works Emerge from Great Tensions?

In past eras, many artists left their legacy in response to—or in dialogue with—profound crises, existential conflicts, or complex historical moments.
This doesn’t mean that “good art” only comes from tragedy, but it’s true that the historical context directly influences the depth of artistic creation.

Crises—wars, persecutions, revolutions, cultural collapses—awaken in human beings a deep urgency to:

- Understand their place in the world
- Leave a testimony
- Seek transcendence
- Resist oblivion
- Create beauty where there is none

When the world falls apart, art can become a scream, a comfort, a map, an act of remembrance.

For example:

The Renaissance:
Emerged after centuries of medieval darkness, plagues, and religious upheaval. It was a reaffirmation of life, the body, and reason.

Goya and the Napoleonic Wars:
In The Disasters of War, he left one of the most raw and human records of the horrors of war. It wasn’t propaganda—it was torn humanity.

Picasso and the Spanish Civil War:
Guernica is not just a masterpiece; it’s an open wound on canvas.

After Auschwitz:
Art had to rethink everything. Poetry, painting, and music became silent, fragmented, reflective—like in Adorno, Celan, or minimalist music.

Latin American artists under dictatorships:
Artists like León Ferrari, Doris Salcedo, or Cecilia Vicuña used their work as acts of resistance, memory, and protest.

And What About Today?

Today we live in a society—at least in much of the Western or globalized world—where life, though still filled with many crises (climate, mental health, economic, geopolitical), is shaped by:

- Instant gratification
- Constant entertainment
- Superficial stimuli
- A fear of silence and pain
- A disconnection from reality, history, spirituality, and others

And this often produces a more superficial aesthetic—disposable, emotional rather than reflective.

It’s no longer about leaving a “mark,” but about producing something that works, that people like quickly, that doesn’t make us too uncomfortable—and, if possible, brings fame and money.

Is Everything Art?

No.

Everything can be a legitimate expression, an idea, a provocation.

But that doesn’t automatically make it art with aesthetic, historical, or human value capable of lasting through the centuries.

Art, like any other form of expression, requires mastery, pursuit, depth, and practice.

Just as not everything written is literature, not everything expressed is art.

Art as a Children's Menu

Let's imagine two menus: one for children, with fries and burgers; the other for adults, with complex flavors and ingredients that challenge the palate.

Both are valid. Both are enjoyable. But only one expands the senses.

Much of today's art often stays on the children's menu: accessible, pleasurable, quick, simple.

The kind of art that endures, by contrast, educates the viewer. It demands something of you.

And it transforms you.

Conclusion: Art Needs Depth

We are not facing a crisis of creativity, but a crisis of depth.

We live in an era that has confused provocation with value, virality with transcendence, and freedom with a lack of discernment.

Not all is lost: there are still artists who understand art as a spiritual, intellectual, and philosophical quest—not merely as a vehicle for ego.

But we, as an audience, must recover our critical gaze, our contemplative silence, our trained sensitivity.

And maybe then, we will stop celebrating urinals as fountains or bananas taped to walls,
and begin once more to seek that which elevates us as human beings.

The images used are from the official music video by the band Ophidium, for their track "Trending Topic".