What Makes Art, Art: Skill, Concept, and Why That Weird Thing in a Gallery Costs More Than Your House

Picture this: you're standing in an art gallery, staring at what appears to be a large, blank canvas. A small plaque next to it says “Untitled #47.” It costs more than your entire life savings. Meanwhile, back at home, your garden has a charming gnome tucked under a shrub, and it costs a cool £12.99. So, what’s going on here? How is one of these things considered “art” while the other is, well, just something your neighbour stole during a weekend garden center sale?

When it comes to art, it’s not just about what looks good or requires skill. It’s about concepts, context, and the occasional bit of confusion. Let’s dive into the world where cats painted on velvet exist alongside Damien Hirst’s pickled sharks and figure out what makes art... art.

Fine Art vs. Craft: Intent is the Key (Even If It Means Breaking a 2,000-Year-Old Pot)

Let’s say you make a gorgeous, hand-thrown ceramic mug. It’s beautiful, functional, and might just be the best thing to happen to your mornings since you learned about oat milk. This is craft: it’s about skill, technique, and making something well. Now imagine Ai Weiwei, famous Chinese contemporary artist, walks in, picks up your mug, and drops it onto the ground, shattering it into a million pieces. You’re about to call security, but wait—this is fine art!

Ai Weiwei’s provocative piece, “Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn,” shows that fine art doesn’t just rely on how well something is made. It's about the idea. In this case, the artist took an ancient cultural artifact and destroyed it to make a statement about value, history, and destruction. That single act—a deliberate destruction of something precious—forces us to reconsider how we value historical objects. Your mug, on the other hand, just wants to hold your coffee.

The difference? Craft focuses on execution, while fine art is often about intention. Fine art asks: What concept is behind this? What does it mean? Craft just asks: Do you like the glaze?

Skill vs. Concept: When Painting a Cat Isn’t Enough (No Matter How Fluffy)

For centuries, technical skill was the gold standard of art. Paint like Michelangelo or Vermeer, and you were basically a Renaissance rock star. (No autographs, please.) The better you were at reproducing reality, the more revered your art became. Now, imagine painting an incredibly lifelike portrait of your cat, every whisker perfectly captured, right down to that unmistakable “you’re beneath me” glare. Technically, it’s brilliant! Conceptually? It’s a cat.

Enter Jackson Pollock, who made a name for himself by flicking paint across a canvas in what looks like an unholy mess. People’s reactions usually fall into two camps: “This is art?” or “I could have done that!” The truth is, you probably could have done that, but you didn’t—and Pollock did. His work wasn’t about precision; it was about raw emotion, chaos, and the idea that art didn’t need to be restrained by neat lines and perfectly rendered figures. It was about the act of creation, not just the result.

So while your painstakingly painted cat might impress people with its detail, Pollock’s splatters are revered because they embody something more: a radical shift in how art was understood. It’s not about how well it’s painted, but about how it makes you feel—even if that feeling is “I don’t get it.”

What Makes Art Endure: The Gallery vs. The Hotel Lobby

Why does some art end up in prestigious galleries while other pieces end up gracing the walls of dentist offices and chain hotels? Spoiler: it’s not about the paint quality. Enduring art taps into something deeper—universal ideas, emotions, or social commentary. It makes us confront something, even if we don’t want to.

Take Diane Arbus’s haunting black-and-white photographs of society’s outsiders—people who live on the fringes, often forgotten or misunderstood. Her portraits don’t just show you a face; they make you question what it means to be “normal,” what it means to fit in, and why we fear or ignore people who don’t conform. There’s a reason Arbus’s work is celebrated—it goes beyond capturing images to reveal truths about human nature.

Now think about the kind of art you might see in a hotel lobby—a landscape, maybe, or a nice abstract swirl of colours. It’s there to make you feel calm, comfortable, and vaguely pleased that the hotel has at least tried to spruce things up. It’s decorative, but it’s not meant to challenge you. Hotel art is like the visual equivalent of a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign—it’s pleasant, but it won’t make you rethink your entire life.

Ansel Adams, on the other hand, took photos of nature that went beyond being pretty landscapes. His black-and-white images of America’s national parks are stunning, yes, but they also carry a powerful message about the need for environmental preservation. They’re a reminder that beauty and fragility are intertwined, and that protecting these places is vital. That’s why Adams’s work hangs in museums, while a photo of a generic beach sunset sits behind the check-in desk at the Best Western.

Photography: More Than a Filter and a Selfie Stick

When photography first arrived on the scene, people had some feelings about it—mostly skeptical ones. It wasn’t seen as “real” art. After all, it was just a machine capturing reality, right? Where’s the skill in that? But then artists like Cindy Sherman came along and showed the world what photography could do.

Sherman’s self-portraits are more than just pictures—they’re explorations of identity, gender, and the roles society forces people to play. Each photo is a different character, and each one challenges us to think about how much of what we see—especially in media—is performative. It’s art because it’s not just capturing a moment; it’s making a statement about the human condition.

Now contrast that with stock photography. Stock photos exist to fill in gaps, whether that’s on a corporate website or an advertisement for a product no one wants. You know the kind: people smiling awkwardly at salads, two men in suits shaking hands with suspicious intensity. Stock photos are there to serve a purpose, not to stir your soul or challenge your worldview. Cindy Sherman, by contrast, is there to make you question whether your soul even exists.

Technology: Blurring the Line Between Art and Memes

In today’s digital age, the definition of art is getting murkier by the minute. Digital art is on the rise, and platforms like Instagram have turned everyone into a part-time photographer or artist. Your friend who posts a new smoothie bowl every morning with an artful drizzle of chia seeds? Technically, that’s artistic expression—though whether it belongs in the MoMA or just on your feed is debatable.

And then there are NFTs (Non-Fungible Tokens), which have flipped the art world on its head. People are now paying millions for digital files—yes, JPEGs and GIFs—that can only truly exist in the murky realm of blockchain technology. Is it art? Or just a really expensive meme? The debate continues, but the fact remains: digital art has changed the game.

AI-generated art is another strange new player in the scene. Can an algorithm, programmed to mimic human creativity, make something we consider truly art? AI can create works that are visually impressive, sure, but art, as we know it, is about the human experience, right? How can something made by a machine—a thing with no emotions or lived experience—speak to the human condition? At best, AI art is like the world’s most well-behaved art student, making technically perfect pieces with no soul. At worst, it’s like watching a robot paint by numbers while you try not to panic about the impending robot apocalypse.

Why Understanding Art Matters: For Your Sanity and the Future of Creativity

Here’s the thing, if we don’t understand why art is more than just decoration, we run the risk of losing its power to provoke and inspire. Art pushes boundaries, reflects culture, and sometimes makes you want to scream, “WHAT DOES IT MEAN?”—but that’s the point. It forces us to stop and think, in a world where everything is moving too fast to care.

And with technology, algorithms, and AI becoming part of the creative process, the question of what makes art is more important than ever. If we lose the ability to appreciate the ideas, emotions, and critiques behind art, we might end up in a future where creativity is reduced to whatever looks best on your Instagram feed.

So next time you’re staring at a piece of modern art that looks suspiciously like someone spilled their breakfast on a canvas, take a moment. Don’t just ask, “Is this art?” Ask, “What is this art saying?” Because in the end, art is about more than just skill or beauty. It’s about ideas, challenges, and reflecting on what it means to be human—whether that’s through a shattered urn, a splatter of paint, or, yes, even a urinal.