Plagiarizing about Plagiarism

You could write a column entitled “When it comes to songwriting, there’s a fine line between inspiration and plagiarism” any day of the week, and I believe I have, though I only stole the idea from the KLF (or Negativland or Bob Dylan, or Jim Jarmusch or Jonathan Lethem or David Shields or  David Markson or Shepard Fairey or . . . )

If Girl Talk does get sued, I’d love to represent him.

Greg Gillis and I see things very similarly, and I”m a big fan too:

Stealing what you love

John Pareles wrote, in “Plagiarism in Dylan, or a Cultural Collage?,”that “[i]deas aren’t meant to be carved in stone and left inviolate; they’re meant to stimulate the next idea and the next.” Accordingly, in words apropos of a point I’ve made over and over and over on this blog, he explains:

The absolutely original artist is an extremely rare and possibly imaginary creature, living in some isolated habitat where no previous works or traditions have left any impression. Like virtually every artist, Mr. Dylan carries on a continuing conversation with the past. He’s reacting to all that culture and history offer, not pretending they don’t exist. Admiration and iconoclasm, argument and extension, emulation and mockery — that’s how individual artists and the arts themselves evolve. It’s a process that is neatly summed up in Mr. Dylan’s album title “Love and Theft, ” which itself is a quotation from a book on minstrelsy by Eric Lott. (hyperlinks added)

Another masterful artist, David Foster Wallace, wrote, “No one who is invested in any kind of art . . . can read [Lewis Hyde's book] The Gift and remain unchanged.” It is Hyde’s thesis not merely that all art builds on earlier art, but that it is precisely the artist’s recognition that his creations are gifts that sustains his creativity. In other words, the capacity to create is a gift given to the artist and is given only if the artist understands his own creations as gifts themselves that other artists can use themselves in their acts of creation:

It is the assumption of this book that a work of art is a gift, not a commodity. Or, to state the modern case with more precision, that works of art exist simultaneously in two “economics,” a market economy and a gift economy. Only one of these is essential, however: a work of art can survive without the market, but where there is no gift there is no art.

So it should be no surprise that Andreas Hykade entitled this brilliant video “Love & Theft“:

It’s not where you take things from—it’s where you take them to.

From Jim Jarmusch’s Golden Rules, which are about film making but have an awful lot of relevance to the practice of law:

Rule #1: There are no rules. There are as many ways to make a film as there are potential filmmakers. . . . Therefore, disregard the “rules” you are presently reading, and instead consider them to be merely notes to myself. One should make one’s own “notes” because there is no one way to do anything. If anyone tells you there is only one way, their way, get as far away from them as possible, both physically and philosophically.

Rule #2: Don’t let the fuckers get ya. They can either help you, or not help you, but they can’t stop you. . . .

Rule #3: The production is there to serve the film. The film is not there to serve the production. . . .

Rule #4: Filmmaking is a collaborative process. You get the chance to work with others whose minds and ideas may be stronger than your own. . . . [T]reat all collaborators as equals and with respect. A production assistant who is holding back traffic so the crew can get a shot is no less important than the actors in the scene, the director of photography, the production designer or the director. Hierarchy is for those whose egos are inflated or out of control, or for people in the military. Those with whom you choose to collaborate, if you make good choices, can elevate the quality and content of your film to a much higher plane than any one mind could imagine on its own. If you don’t want to work with other people, go paint a painting or write a book. . . .

Rule #5: Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery—celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from—it’s where you take them to.”

Collage is art, not theft

From Negativland:

No one much cared about the centuries old tradition of appropriation in classical music as long as it could only be heardwhen it was played live in front of your ears. But now all music exists as a mass produced, saleable object, electronically frozen for all time, and seen by its owners to be in continuous, simultaneous economic competition with all other music. The previously interesting idea that someone’s music might freely include some appropriated music of another has now been made into a criminal activity. This example is typical of how copyright laws now actually serve to inhibit or prevent the creative process, itself, from proceeding in certain interesting ways, both traditional and new.

This has become a pressing problem for creativity now because the creative technique of appropriation has jumped from the mediums in which it first appeared (principally in the visual fine arts of painting, printmaking, and sculpture) to popular, electronic mass distributed mediums such as photography, recorded music, and multimedia. The appearance of appropriation techniques in these more recent mass mediums have occasioned a huge increase in owner litigations of such appropriation based works because the commercial entrepenours who now own and operate mass culture are apparently intent on oblitering all distinctions between the needs of art and the needs of commerce.These owners of mass produced cultural material claim that similarly mass produced works of appropriation are a new and devastating threat to their total control over the exclusive profits which their properties might produce in the same mass marketplace. They claim that, art or not, an unauthorized appropriation of any kind can not be allowed to directly compete in the appropriated material’s avenue of commerce, as if they were equal in content, and equal in intent. The degree to which the unique nature and needs of art practice do not play any part in this thinking is more than slightly insane.

Consider the starkly stupid proposition that collage has now become illegal in music unless the artist can afford to pay for each and every fragment he or she might want to use, as well as gain permission from each and every owner. Consider how this puts a stop to all independent, non-corporate forms of collage in music, and how those corporately funded collage works which can afford the tolls had better be flattering to the owner intheir usage. . . .

Please consider the ungenerous and uncreative logic we are overlaying our culture with. Artists will always be interested in sampling from existing cultural icons and artifacts precisely because of how they express and symbolize something potently recognizable about the culture from which both they and this new work spring. The owners of such artifacts and icons are seldom happy to see their properties in unauthorized contexts which may be antithetical to the way they are spinning them. Their kneejerk use of copyright restrictions to crush this kind of work now amounts to corporate censorship of unwanted independent work.

Requiring licenses for artistic appropriation has nothing to with providing incentives to create.

I’ve been pretty passionate in this blog in expressing my belief that art that appropriates copyrighted work does not infringe the copyrighted work provided the new work stands sufficiently on its own as a creative work. To stand on its own in that way, the new work is one that isn’t attracting an audience merely because of its appropriation of the earlier work. The fact it uses the the copyrighted work to convey meaning through the use of symbols and allusions is no different than the way new, original art has always used the meaning culture attributes to earlier work. Art builds on art.

The counter-argument to my position is that artists need to make money to be able to create art, and if an appropriator can pay for a license, why shouldn’t he? First, merely asking for a license is not the same as obtaining one. Second, the most meaningful pieces of art in our culture are the most successful, and licenses for the use of those works are not likely to be within the financial means of most artists. Third, why should you have to ask for a license to make something new from something someone already has made money from (or as much as their work earned in the market)?

But now Malcolm Gladwell goes right to the heart of the most compelling argument copyright holders have against un-licensed appropriation — that the financial remuneration is an incentive necessary to the creation of art in the first place. Gladwell writes:

Dan Pink is best known for a number of really insightful business books, including “A Whole New Mind.” In “Drive,” he tackles the question of what motivates people to do innovative work, and his jumping-off point is the academic work done over the past few decades that consistently shows that financial rewards hinder creativity. These studies have been around for a while. But Pink follows through on their implications in a way that is provocative and fascinating. The way we structure organizations and innovation, after all, almost always assumes that the prospect of financial reward is the prime human motivator. We think that the more we pay people, the better results we’ll get. But what if that isn’t true? What the research shows, instead, is that the great wellspring of creativity is intrinsic motivation—that is, I do my best work for personal rewards (out of love or intellectual fulfillment) and not external motivation (money).

Maybe you don’t think much of this blog, but I’ve written it now for 18 months and haven’t seen a penny in return. The best writers I know scramble to make their livings through their writing, teaching, parlaying their writing into other creative projects, and whatever else can come their way. I’ve known artists my entire life. I’ve known a few who’ve had vast success, but they are a tiny, tiny minority. The artists I know won’t stop creating if they’re not paid for transformative appropriations of their works.

Article 1, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution sets for the basis of Congressional power to create laws to protect copyright. It states:

The Congress shall have Power . . . To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries; . . . (emphasis added).

It does not state:

The Congress shall have the Power . . . To further the capacity of authors and inventors to extract any and all value that exists in their creations, by securing for a time in excess of the lifetimes of these Authors and Inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries; . . .

Richard Prince, Patrick Cariou, and Appropriation Art

Back in January photographer Patrick Cariou sued Richard Prince, alleging that the collages Prince had exhibited at the Gagosian Gallery in 2008 because they had appropriated photographs of Rastafarians Cariou had taken and published in his book Yes Rasta in 2001.  A few days ago Prince filed his answer, claiming his use of the photographs constituted fair use.

As Brian Sherwin explained at myartspace.com last January, if the case is not settled, the court decision in it could have a profound impact on the art world, either clarifying that the widespread acceptance in the art world of appropriation art is legally legitimate or opening the door to an increased number of lawsuits by copyright holders against artists engaged in collage, sampling, satire, and any  number of other genres that have become increasingly easy to engage in with the digitalization of media and the rise of the internet:

[Cariou's] case could be groundbreaking in that it will establish some order concerning fair use– either for or against it. If the court sides with Cariou and his demands are honored it would mean that there will be drastic changes in the art world. Gallerists, curators, and publishers may think twice before promoting an artist with a history of copyright infringement allegations.

Prince has been engaged in a particularly confrontational style of appropriation since the 1970′s.  As Randy Kennedy has written:

“Since the late 1970s, when Richard Prince became known as a pioneer of appropriation art – photographing other photographs, usually from magazine ads, then enlarging and exhibiting them in galleries – the question has always hovered just outside the frames: “What do the photographers who took the original pictures think of these pictures of their pictures, apotheosized into art but without their names anywhere in sight?”

Most civil lawsuits — the vast, vast majority (over 90%) — settle, of course.  And it seems likely Cariou’s lawsuit will settle too.  Prince is very, very succesful, and there likely will be some amount of money he is willing to pay and Cariou is willing to take for them both to avoid a decision that, if it goes against Prince, almost undoubtedly would be appealed and the outcome of which may be very much debatable.  So it’s unlikely we’ll end up with the legal clarification the art world might desire.  The fact the development of judge-made law is entirely dependent on the outcomes of individual lawsuits is precisely why such questions can remain so long unresolved.  The fact such questions remain unresolved, however, may not be a problem.  It is, perhaps, a better thing for artists who appropriate and artists whose work is appropriated — as well as the world of critics, museums, galleries, collectors and patrons that exists as a result of those artists — to slowly work to a solution of these questions themselves.

Collage is art, not theft.

From Negativeland, whom I’ve previously mentioned as a precursor to Girl Talk:

[F]rom an artistic point of view, it is ponderously delusional to try to paint all these new forms of fragmentary sampling as economically motivated “theft”, “piracy”, or “bootlegging”. We reserve these terms for the unauthorized taking of whole works and reselling them for one’s own profit. Artists who routinely appropriate, on the other hand, are not attempting to profit from the marketability of their subjects at all. They are using elements, fragments, or pieces of someone else’s created artifact in the creation of a new one for artistic reasons. These elements may remain identifiable, or they may be transformed to varying degrees as they are incorporated into the new creation, where there may be many other fragments all in a new context, forming a new “whole”. This becomes a new “original”, neither reminiscent of nor competitive with any of the many “originals” it may draw from. This is also a brief description of collage techniques which have developed throughout this century, and which are universally celebrated as artistically valid, socially aware, and conceptually stimulating to all, it seems, except perhaps those who are “borrowed” from.

No one much cared about the centuries old tradition of appropriation in classical music as long as it could only be heard when it was played live in front of your ears. But now all music exists as a mass produced, saleable object, electronically frozen for all time, and seen by its owners to be in continuous, simultaneous economic competition with all other music. The previously interesting idea that someone’s music might freely include some appropriated music of another has now been made into a criminal activity. This example is typical of how copyright laws now actually serve to inhibit or prevent the creative process, itself, from proceeding in certain interesting ways, both traditional and new.

This has become a pressing problem for creativity now because the creative technique of appropriation has jumped from the mediums in which it first appeared (principally in the visual fine arts of painting, printmaking, and sculpture) to popular, electronic mass distributed mediums such as photography, recorded music, and multimedia. The appearance of appropriation techniques in these more recent mass mediums have occasioned a huge increase in owner litigations of such appropriation based works because the commercial entrepenours who now own and operate mass culture are apparently intent on oblitering all distinctions between the needs of art and the needs of commerce. These owners of mass produced cultural material claim that similarly mass produced works of appropriation are a new and devastating threat to their total control over the exclusive profits which their properties might produce in the same mass marketplace. They claim that, art or not, an unauthorized appropriation of any kind can not be allowed to directly compete in the appropriated material’s avenue of commerce, as if they were equal in content, and equal in intent. The degree to which the unique nature and needs of art practice do not play any part in this thinking is more than slightly insane.

Consider the starkly stupid proposition that collage has now become illegal in music unless the artist can afford to pay for each and every fragment he or she might want to use, as well as gain permission from each and every owner. Consider how this puts a stop to all independent, non-corporate forms of collage in music, and how those corporately funded collage works which can afford the tolls had better be flattering to the owner in their usage. . . .

Please consider the ungenerous and uncreative logic we are overlaying our culture with. Artists will always be interested in sampling from existing cultural icons and artifacts precisely because of how they express and symbolize something potently recognizable about the culture from which both they and this new work spring. The owners of such artifacts and icons are seldom happy to see their properties in unauthorized contexts which may be antithetical to the way they are spinning them. Their kneejerk use of copyright restrictions to crush this kind of work now amounts to corporate censorship of unwanted independent work.

Shepard Fairey, Creator of Iconic Obama Image, Speaks About His Art

When does appropriation serve creativity? Quite often, in fact.

A commenter to yesterday’s post on Shepard Fairey’s Obama poster has suggested that I don’t believe in copyright because I believe that, even though Fairey created his image by initially tracing a copyrighted photo, the changes he made to the image and its re-contextualization within the campaign poster might well be sufficiently transformative to make his work non-infringing fair use.  In fact, I’d go so far as to say I genuinely believe Fairey’s image is a creative work in its own right even though it derives from another work.

In that regard, it’s worth noting that Henry McKervey and Declan Long, in “Makers and Takers: Art and the Appropriation of Ideas, write::

[I]t is the expression of an idea which is subject to legal protection. While perhaps this has meant that an artist such as Gillian Wearing can be faced with difficulties over the unattributed re-application of her work, the law also could be said to give artists a relative amount of freedom to take and re-use material in any number of subtly different ways without the spectre of plagiarism remaining ever-present. In a work such as Douglas Gordon’s 24 Hour Psycho, for instance, there is in one sense very little of the artist’s ‘own’ work (Hitchcock’s classic thriller being merely re-played at a radically slowed-down pace) yet Gordon’s intervention makes for a powerful, transformative artistic statement. The question of “knowing originality when you see it” is almost beside the point in cases such as this: artists’ strategies of appropriation prompt questions of originality to become thematically intriguing on, one level, while also being critically irrelevant and, on occasion, inappropriate, on another.

Believing that genuinely transformative appropriation is legitimate does not imply I do not believe in copyright.  It means, rather, that I believe that copyright should serve the only purpose it constitutionally is meant to serve: increased invention and creativity.

And did anyone notice that the John Williams composition played at the inauguration, “Air and Simple Gifts,” borrowed heavily from Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring, which itself appropriated a Shaker hymn?