> This seems to be because art as a concept is so elusive of any concrete definition.
> ...
> The point is that art is something that means something profound to its creator.

That's more or less a definition, isn't it?

I agree that art is not something easily concretely defined, but I don't really think "anything goes" goes either. You're not the first person I've heard argue that what establishes art as art is not dependent on any other relationship than the creation to the creator.

Personally, I think that's a lot of bunk. Anybody who thinks playing a piece of music stretched out over decades is not an artist but a basket case. Ditto for "painters" who create "art" by firing paint guns at canvases. This is not to say there aren't misunderstood geniuses out there, or even that I can always distinguish the two.

I think the essence of art lies in its ability to communicate or convey meaning to *other* parties. It is judged as a successful or failed work of art based on *what* it conveys -- whether that meaning or essence is consistent or lucid or whatever. But a work that conveys nothing at all is not art at all. If its creator was *trying* to create art, he failed. A creation that only means something to its creator is not complete: it can't stand on its own. If it depends entirely on the life, memory, and experiences of its creator to have meaning or feeling or impact, then it does not have meaning, or feeling, or impact.

But a work that conveys *something* to another, that is art. Of course, the monkeywrench these days is that there are a fat lot of people out there who don't *get* art but won't admit it, so they prize and uphold whatever whacko art fad is going, thus perpetuating the illusion that something is being conveyed when, in fact, it is not.

But the great thing about the present example is that there is no ambiguity at all. A piece of music stretched out to a period of years *can't* be art because of its very nature. To skew something so much that it exceeds the parameters of human perception *is* to extract from it any *possibility* of being "art." It can no longer convey *anything* to *anybody* except, perhaps, the notion that the "artist" should be committed. As a confession of eccentricity, it is, I admit, quite effective.