Representation, Identity and the Art That Won't Bend

In a world where we say, "What is Earth without art? Just a rock," we do show a lot of apprehension when people actually pursue a career in art. Society loves to act as a preserver of art when it needs to, while abandoning the artists. It only caters to artists who are dead and won't profit from their art anymore. Vincent Van Gogh sold only one painting in his entire lifetime, and look at his paintings now, one of the most used and available art prints in the market, which people readily buy.

Art is complex, and it has different meanings, understandings, and emphases depending on how an individual perceives it. The experience of art is very personal, but if it's very personal and different to everyone, how do we decide if an art piece is beautiful or if it deserves the recognition of the masses?Who decided that the Mona Lisa is a masterpiece while calling Thomas Kinkade a bad artist?

"Society loves to act as a preserver of art when it needs to, while abandoning the artists."

There is no single authority which can claim one art piece as beautiful or ugly but there are certain institutions which hold the power to do so; unstable conversation between institutions (museums, critics, dealers), markets and collectors, audiences and communities, and the artists themselves; each actor shapes value differently and the balance between them changes over time. Institutions and critics act as gatekeepers because they have cultural capital — museum shows, catalogue essays and reviews can canonize a work as a masterpiece or dismiss it as irrelevant, and those judgments have long-lasting influence.

The market and collectors convert cultural attention into monetary value, which circulates back to signal importance; a work that commands high prices becomes harder to ignore as "important" regardless of initial taste judgments. Artists and communities contest definitions. Creators decide their aims and can refuse labeling, while marginalized communities call out exclusionary canons and expand what counts as a masterpiece by insisting on different criteria (context, survivability, social meaning). Hence, the art community which needs to foster all the artists and give them a safe space, often fails to do so.

Talking about representation, and how it is important, we always come across a question — who gets to represent what?

Firstly, reiterating how important representation actually is. Representation shapes visibility and meaning: who appears in artworks and how they're shown affects social narratives, power relations, and who is heard or erased. It's not just appearance, it's context — historical, political and cultural frames change how a depiction is read and who benefits from it.

Many argue the creator has primary authority to represent their own experiences and intentions, especially when those relate to personal identity or community history because representation by people from within a group tends to carry ethical and epistemic weight because it can capture nuance, lived knowledge, and avoid reductive stereotypes. But does that mean someone who is fond and educated about another tradition, culture or community cannot give a voice to them? If an artist does not represent or talk about any other communities, how will the marginalized communities get representation? Do people who cannot read and write have no right to be seen? Hundreds of writers are criticised when there is a lack of diversity or representation in the work but then society also goes on to criticise artists who do represent a different story? The audience and readers need to look beyond the surface aesthetics. They need to ask questions about the perspectives they're given and stories they are narrated. When we look at Premchand, who is a brilliant author, his stories have so much depth but we need to pay attention to his representation of his poor or Dalit characters. A man who is born into privilege of an “upper caste” can show how a Dalit family lives? With what experience and accountability can he write about it?

" It is true that if a culture or a community shapes your identity, you talk about it but who decides if artists can present something other than their identity through their art?"

Another argument which stems from the same issue — if an artist belongs to a particular culture/minority which were oppressed or has seen their fair share of atrocities/suffering, is it mandatory that every aspect of their writing is about their identity? Are they not allowed to write anything beyond their experiences and communal/personal identity? By no means, are we phrasing that people shouldn't write about identity. They should. But would you read Anne Frank’s diary if it weren't about Holocaust? Why is Helen Keller known for talking about her disability while Frida Kahlo is just known as an artist? If Omprakash Valmiki chose to write something other than his biography as a Dalit man, would that be called out? It is true that if a culture or a community shapes your identity, you talk about it but who decides if artists can present something other than their identity through their art?

Artists can make work about anything, but whether they should and whether their work is accepted depends on power, consent, and context. Communities and cultural insiders hold authority over certain stories and sacred forms — institutions, critics, and markets often legitimize representations by platforming them. Outsiders may represent other cultures ethically if they collaborate, research deeply, seek permission, share credit and benefits, and provide context to avoid exoticizing or exploiting. Legitimacy emerges from how communities, curators, audiences, and artists negotiate responsibility, benefit, and respect. Respect and reciprocity are the minimum requirements. Although we need to accept that certain artists will be known for their cultural appreciation more than others. Frida Kahlo being a Mexican artist and her representation of folk motifs is well known to people but the audience often overlooks the Iberian/Spanish/African influence on Picasso, leaving him at cubism.

These disputes aren’t theoretical: they decide who gets resources, who is heard, and which stories survive. If we care about justice in art, we must support ethical platforming — fund community-led projects, insist on consent and credit, and question the easy prestige of global stages. Start small: attend a local show, buy art pieces from small brands and artists, read an artist’s full statement, or ask curators about provenance. Art sustains when you and I do our bit.