Between Kitsch and Self-Expression

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Kitsch originates in German and alludes to ornamentally gaudy or overly sentimental qualities. Kitsch can take the forms of cliché expressions, mass-produced items, or superficial emotions. To some art and literary critics, kitsch is a form of escapism that provides comfort through familiar forms while lacking depth and authenticity. An idealized pastoral lifestyle depicted in some paintings (e.g., Alvan Fisher’s Pastoral Landscape, 1854) and domesticity, as depicted in 19th-century literature (e.g., “Lotte,” Werther’s love interest in Wolfgang von Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther, who can be understood as an embodiment of domesticity), are two examples that illustrate this concept.

In Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, kitsch is manifested in philosophical ideals, personal relationships, political ideologies, and aesthetic principles. In that context, kitsch can simultaneously provide comfort and become a burden. This reflects the duality of human existence and the challenge of navigating the uncertain landscape of life without signposts. Throughout human history, kitsch plays an important role in our collective imagination and quotidian life by evoking nostalgia, reminding us of our shared humanity, and anchoring our collective consciousness to what is familiar and easy to understand, describe, and objectify.

When I worked as a library assistant at a college music center, I looked forward to retrieving a can of Butter Royal Dansk cookies underneath the decorative Christmas tree that typically magically appeared in the lounge area around mid-December each ear. The iconic decorative art printed on the cover of the blue container may be classified as kitsch. However, in this instance, its connection to the holiday tradition and its sentimental value as a token of a caring work environment played a positive role in improving employee relations, loyalty, and morale, even if some may consider the gesture to exemplify the concept of kitsch. Thus, kitsch clearly has its place in human society and can have a positive impact on human endeavors, especially in the realm of quotidian life.

We Can See Kitsch for What It Is and Still Appreciate Its Value

Given the omnipresence of kitsch, rather than attempting to eliminate it, we can make the best use of it. An art museum might have various art galleries and sculpture courts to display works of fine art from centuries past while also having designated workstations where more “superficial,” “gaudy,” and “mass-produced” art forms (e.g., quick-to-make arts and craft) can be produced as a part of the audience engagement activities. Aside from their educational value, these works of kitsch may as well have aesthetic appeal in the eyes of the creators themselves. Thus, even as one recognizes kitsch for what it is, there is ample room for the beholder to find value in it—educational, utilitarian, or emotional.

Music and art of the Baroque period, due to its flamboyant and florid style, can sometimes be classified as kitsch. When I was 16, I visited a cousin who emigrated to Austria with her family and was at the time pursuing a degree in art history at the University of Graz. One day, on our way to visit the Kunsthaus Graz (Graz Art Museum), we encountered a recorder player who was performing Baroque recorder music while dressed in the costume of that period. While I was fascinated by the metrical orderliness inherent in the music, my cousin was adamant that the music was kitsch. To her, music and artwork from the Baroque period are repetitive, overly ornate, and appeal more to superficial emotions than honoring personal narratives.

I was, at the time, not entirely understanding the notion of kitsch and hence was unable to challenge my cousin’s oversimplification of Baroque aesthetic sensibilities. Nevertheless, even though I agreed with her view of Baroque music as emblematic of kitsch, that did not prevent me from continuing to enjoy the highly ornate, repetitively metrical, and polarized dynamic contrasts, thanks to terraced dynamics inherent in Baroque music. I appreciated the beauty and value of a highly stylized approach to artistic expression that does not necessarily honor self-expression and authenticity.

To Rise Above Kitsch in Artistic Expression Takes Courage, a Unique Vision, and a Personal Angle

A new entrant to a creative field faces the challenge of finding their individual voice in their creative expression. When one is less experienced, it is often tempting to emulate the old masters’ approach or to stick to the modus operandi—that is, choosing to travel along a safer route to establish oneself in the field. Stepping outside of the comfort zone can be daunting to a novice who has yet to earn their place in a field. It can be risky business to develop a personal voice in creative expressions before one is accepted by a field, where quick judgment is often made based on preestablished conventions and unspoken rules before the originality and intrinsic value of one’s work is appraised for its own sake.

In numerous violin competitions, it is not uncommon to observe talented young artists emulate their preferred master’s style of playing or follow their teacher's footsteps. While nothing is wrong with this approach, even the best imitation falls short of the emulated (i.e., the original interpretations). Some performances, however, would leave an indelible effect on the listener. For instance, Clara Jumi-Kang, an underrated violin virtuoso, gave Ernst’s Last Rose of the Summer a more emotionally nuanced and less technically flashy treatment that differs from many of her male counterpart’s interpretations. The personal stamp that she puts on the piece makes the familiar feel refreshing.

I once observed an 18-year-old violinist performing the same piece in front of an audience of experienced violin teachers. The young artist was not the least anxious, even when she had memory slips during the performance. During the ensuing interview, the same violinist also provided an unabashedly frank answer that bears her signature strength of authenticity. The interviewer enquired about a group of young artists’ favorite food. Instead of conforming to her peers' answers by deliberately providing food choices that tend to be associated with an upper-middle-class lifestyle, the violinist was quite vocal about her favorite food being one of the burger options at a fast-food chain restaurant. This courage to be authentically oneself under the limelight and being poised when a mistake was made during a public performance struck me as courageous, unique, and personable. Even though, from a technical standpoint, her performance was not flawless, she imbued The Last Rose with a more optimistic overtone that was rarely heard in the many performances I previously attended. From the vantage point of a budding professional violinist and an 18-year-old who had just embarked on her life journey, this personal angle gave new meanings to the masterpiece and kept it alive.