By Allison Norman

What is the boundary between art and science in the current era, if there is one at all? And what does this mean for the contemporary artist?

Art and science are generally viewed as opposing disciplines, and for good reason. Art is inherently subjective, emotive, and is usually somewhat related to culture, whereas science is objective, empirical, and must be universally valid in order to be of any value. Beauty, of course, is traditionally seen as residing exclusively in the realm of art; a person is said to be “as pretty as a picture,” while the scientific genius is popularly viewed as inept in matters of style and aesthetics, with unkempt hair and rumpled attire. And yet, beauty today is closely tied to science: cosmetic plastic surgery is common, architects design with function rather than form in mind, fashion designers defy anatomy, and artwork borrows from technology. The boundary between art and technology is rapidly blurring as technical proficiency becomes a requisite for many contemporary aesthetic techniques. This trend signals the demise of art for critic Donald Kuspit, who writes that, “Clearly, art, aesthetic contemplation, beauty, eternity, freedom are experientially and conceptually passé in a world of relative values and technological necessity” (158). While Kuspit is certainly correct that art has lost much of its former cultural prominence, I contend that it is the traditional role of the artist which has become passé, not art itself. On the contrary, an examination of the history of the interaction between art and science reveals that art evolves as our conception of beauty is redefined by technology.

What, then, is the basis for human concern with beauty? As far as current research can tell, human physical beauty seems to be based in biological evolution. Nancy Etcoff, a prominent psychologist and beauty researcher at Harvard Medical School, writes that, “We love to look at smooth skin, thick shiny hair, curved waists, and symmetrical bodies because in the course of evolution the people who noticed these signals…had more reproductive success” (24). Physical appearance matters to humans primarily because it provides information on the health and virility of a potential mate, for the purposes of sexual reproduction. Over eons of mate selection, these primordial cues for suitable potential mates eventually developed into instinct, and finally into consciously recognized aesthetic preferences—the birth of beauty.

Artists throughout history have accentuated these physical characteristics in order to portray an “ideal beauty” which they thought various beautiful individuals gestured towards. Titian’s iconic Venus of Urbino (fig. 1), painted in 1538, is a rendering of a nude woman—representing the Roman goddess of love—who displays several standard features of beauty: smooth, even-toned skin, an abundance of hair on the head, round hips, and facial symmetry. As a goddess symbol, the image is meant to convey perfection, and the perfection here is entirely natural; no artificiality is portrayed in the image. And yet, artificiality is what is necessary to translate the perfection of the canvas into a real-life semblance of perfection. Etcoff writes that, “The reason we have a universal passion for adornment, the reason that photos are doctored and painted representations idealized, is that we long to be not only works of nature but works of art” (14). In order to achieve a perfect beauty in a naturally imperfect world, humans must turn to technology.