What is the Point of Minimalist Art?

In this age of hyper-consumption, brainrot, and doomscrolling, it is clear that the shout for a touch of minimalism doesn’t fall on deaf ears. However, does the meditative tranquillity and simple reflection of minimalist art overrule critiques of it being emotionlessness and boring?

Minimalism in art gained prominence in the 1960s and remains influential in modern art. The simplicity and clarity of minimalist art draws on basic geometric forms and limited colour palettes to “strip art down to its fundamental features, often removing any personal expression or narrative content”.

Minimalism has long been controversial, with its ‘nothingness’ interpreted as impersonal or emotionless. However, its lack of (or perhaps more accurately described as ‘hidden’ or ‘not immediately obvious’) ‘deeper meaning’ doesn’t necessarily separate it from other types of art, especially abstract art.

The profound rejection of a need for art to be ‘of something’ (…) is a logical continuation of abstract art 

Considering that the impersonality of the form is intentional, minimalist art is perhaps the most radical of all forms, “free[ing] art from the ballast of the objective world”, as Kazimir Malevich described his 1915 ‘Black Square’ artwork. The famous oil on linen canvas painting, depicting a simple black square on a white background, is “radically non-representational”, and has been described by Tate as “the first time someone made a painting that wasn’t of something”. The profound rejection of a need for art to be ‘of something’, some notable icon that is easily recognisable, is a logical continuation of abstract art, which aims to “create a composition which may exist with a degree of independence from visual references in the world”.

The prominent minimalist artists of the 1950s and 1960s were attempting to distance themselves from Abstract Expressionism and create art that was not about the artist, but about the art itself. Therefore, inevitably, there is a greater emphasis on the viewer – their interpretation, emotions, and projections: “The viewer defines the work, not the artist. The viewer defines what he or she sees, feels, and interprets.” The radical de-platforming of the artist empowers the viewer, allowing for their interpretation to take centre stage, whatever that may be.

Rejecting the figure of the ultimate artist is a radical and controversial method of criticism demonstrated in other fields of study too. For example, literary critic Rold Barthes’ 1967 essay The Death of the Author argues against the practice of criticism’s reliance on the role of the author to definitively explain a literary text’s “ultimate meaning”. The dismissal of such practices of criticism can occur reluctantly when critics long to reach definitive conclusions. Minimalism therefore reminds the viewer about the lack of objectivity in art and the inability to draw objective conclusions about a singular piece of work.

These goading, simple artworks that beg us to declare ‘I could have painted that’ (…) are simply reflecting one’s own discomfort with nihilism

The universality of minimalism is that nothing can ever be truly deemed ‘too minimalist’, for the subjective interpretation remains unique to each viewer. While perhaps originally intending to create space for stillness and clarity in an otherwise chaotic world, the fact that minimalist art is known to create a negative, even angry, emotive response in the viewer is still ultimately serving art’s purpose in triggering a reaction: “How can something be too minimalist when it triggers so much in the viewer, both positively or negatively?”

Whether you appreciate minimalist art or not, it possesses an ability to make us question why art is impressive. The creation of art seemingly ‘about nothing’ questions our need to interpret art as being ‘about something’, our desire to search for a deeper meaning, or connect to an artist’s original ‘true’ intention. Perhaps minimalist art is most compatible with a form of nihilism. These goading, simple artworks that beg us to declare ‘I could have painted that’, that seemingly have no ‘reason’ to exist, no point – are simply reflecting one’s own discomfort with nihilism. One’s obstinate refusal to accept that maybe minimalist art has ‘no point’, because maybe art has ‘no point’, because, in the great scheme of things, maybe humanity has ‘no point’, other than to paint a black square on a white background, and then a white square on a white background, and then a black square on a white background again.