"The Title Makes the Piece"
Why names are so important to define and direct in art
[The audio version posted here is a ramble for nearly an hour, where I go on a massive AI tangent for some reason! I put it here as a fun way of documenting my first casual chat through various ideas, which led to the creation of this article. The text version covers the main points in a much tidier place, with more references. Pick one or pick both, although I recommend the writing more… Either way, I hope you enjoy the ride!]
What’s in a name?
In art, everything.
Picking the right title is an art of its own, bringing influence and guidance. Artists can alter and define the art experience through a few carefully chosen words.
recently posted about (probably) finishing a new artwork. Their discussion over what to call the piece sparked many thoughts I’ve been chewing over for a while.
Clark makes some excellent points about the importance of artists using their words to articulate and share their art. Titles and descriptions help audiences engage with and appreciate art beyond mere observation. The artist can enhance the experience through careful naming and explanation, making it more accessible and inclusive.
Words are a vital tool for artists, inviting the audience into their world and opening doors to deeper understanding and inclusion. This conversation goes far beyond the visual elements, offering a broader dialogue about the artwork.
It’s why Clark is running a course for artists to “find the right words to speak from your art”.
Testament to that is how Clark’s piece begins. The tentative completion of an artwork: “Ta da! It’s finished! (I think….)”
Art can keep evolving and changing. But at some point, especially with visual art, you’re probably looking to sell the piece or allow it a final resting point. If you want to revisit after that point, it might be best to do it again. And again. And so on.
Like Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”. More on that in a bit!
Clark calls the working title, “Salted Light”, inspired by the salted sea mist over the Atlantic. Over time, the painting gathered new meanings and connections, developing into a complex web of ideas that mirror the blurred boundaries and interconnectedness of our surroundings.
The choice of a title, therefore, isn’t just a label but an integral part of the artwork’s journey and its conversation with the audience. It reflects the growing thoughts of the artist and contributes to the artwork’s legacy and interpretation.
Connection Through Title
Making art goes beyond visual perception and expands to shared understandings and connections. An ongoing interaction shapes the artwork’s meaning and its impact on both the creator and the viewer.
Jason Horejs, a gallery owner, shares a pertinent example of an overheard discussion between a husband and wife. They were looking at a sculpture of a person and a dog looking at each other intensely:
“Look at this one,” the husband said.
“I love it,” replied the wife.
“Now look at the title.”
“‘Who Rescued Who,’ Oh, I love it.”
“The title makes the piece,” said the husband. The wife agreed.
So how far can we take the significance of titles?
Imagine if the Mona Lisa had multiple names, perhaps ten. Differing titles, like “Seeking Within”, “A Longing”, “A Study in Brown”, “You Don’t Know Me”, “A Travelling Woman”, and so on. Each could add extra dimensions and perspectives to the piece.
The presentation and curation of the titles will also make a difference.
One example is giving a work of art 10 names, then displaying all the names at once beside the artwork.
Another example is to give a work of art 10 names, but display the piece in 10 different places, each with only one of the names on show.
Titles, and how they’re represented, can dramatically influence the focus and reception of an artwork. They help audiences engage more deeply with the art, offering insights that go beyond the visual elements of the piece, whether it’s a painting, sculpture, or another medium.
A study looked at titles and how they affect the viewer, finding differences between elaborative titles and descriptive titles. While elaborative titles helped increase the understanding of abstract paintings when viewing for over 10 seconds, descriptive titles were more effective in enhancing understanding when viewed for a brief time of just a second or so. Each individual case of the audience engaging with art makes a difference.
It also shows that an elaborative title can bridge gaps between the viewer and the artwork. When enough time is spent looking at the piece, that title can help further interpretation and deepen appreciation. All this suggests massive importance when considering how to present art to the public. Curators of museums and galleries play an important role in showcasing art. In other words, art works far beyond the artwork.
I’m increasingly convinced that we’re all art. Everything we stop to engage with allows us to have some authorship of it.
That said, I don’t suggest you try to claim ownership or copyright for this reason! 😆
Connection Through “Untitled”?
You might have unnamed art too. You might view it and have your own thoughts and feelings; it might move you, or it might not resonate at all.
Art doesn’t have to speak for itself. It might, but it often benefits from the words associated with it.
And while I see the benefits, words can both expand and limit. There’s yin and yang at play.
Words can open up new interpretations, or they can confine thoughts to specific meanings. It’s not so much about providing simple answers or objective views as it is about exploring the endless possibilities and inherent contradictions of art.
Questionnaires taken in some Tehran art galleries found that “The most significant function of title for visitors was communicative function”, which is “the roles of titles in establishing a primary connection with the artwork and artist’s intention, and communicating the primary messages of the artwork”.
That communicative function is a bridge to connect the viewer to the artist’s intention and the artwork’s message. The name of a piece isn’t just an identifier, but an active component of the art. At the very least, an entry point is made to help direct the theme, emotion, message, and so on.
So consider how a title—whether it’s “Salted Light” as Samantha Clark uses, or a globally recognised name like “Mona Lisa”—sets a context and helps focus attention. It helps the audience to interpret the artwork. Even when artworks are simply labelled as “Untitled” with a number, they can provoke thought or evoke emotion due to their ambiguity, challenging viewers to fill in the gaps.
But this approach to titling can also make contemporary art feel inaccessible to some, as they search for something to grasp; a hook or a key to unlock the artwork’s meaning. Clark’s discussion highlights the importance of titles in helping audiences feel included and engaged with the art rather than alienated from it.
Tatum Dooley makes an interesting point about calling artworks “Untitled”: “...some artists think that their work speaks for itself and that titling it would be a distraction or unnecessary. [...] This practice of ‘untitled’ pieces allows artists to elevate the significance of the visual experience over contextualization. The American artist Cy Twombly, for instance, often left his paintings ‘untitled.’ This approach is far from neglectful; it is an invitation for viewers to engage directly, devoid of any preconceived notion. The ‘untitled’ title invites viewers to dive into the artwork without the preconceived notions often attached to a descriptive title.”
I see pros and cons to this method. Untitled works may serve as an invitation to the viewer, or may alienate them. A lot depends on the curiosity, intention, and wants of the viewer. This is especially pertinent for more abstract art, which could mean anything.
Pros of “Untitled”
Personal interpretation: It’s up to the viewer to determine. Their blank canvas is filled by engagement with the art and the art alone.
Aesthetics above all else: Medium, shape, texture, colour, senses.
Curious delights through mystery and exploration: Searching for possible meanings are needed, because no title is given. What you see is what you get. Take it where you wish.
Cons of “Untitled”
Alienation: Nothing can be just as much a barrier as it can be freeing.
Lack of context: The viewer may even see this as lazy on the artist’s part. No depth, no communication, no message.
Fear: For someone unused to art, or someone who feels threatened by how opaque a piece is, an anxiety can form.
Emotional weakness: “Untitled” may fail to stir an emotional response. With no theme attached, there may be no attachment or engagement.
AI, Memes & Curation
Balance is needed, especially if we give a piece loads of names or a deliberately abstract title. Those might distract from the artwork itself.
At the same time, emphasis on title is especially valid for AI generations. The image may be the least arty part of the art with AI. Title can take centre stage, bringing context to why the piece was curated and chosen. The description, similarly, matters a great deal here. Where does the image end and the art begin? What led to that image being chosen? Why those titles? Why that description?
There is validity in focusing on everything surrounding the image, more than the image itself. It’s all art and it’s never art.
And that’s the point. Just because a physical hand makes a random splatter of paint on canvas, doesn’t automatically qualify it as art. Pollock perhaps, but also maybe not. Similarly, consider Marcel Duchamp’s “Fountain”—an ordinary urinal made art by the act of signing and placing it in a gallery. The origin of its artistic attribution is also contentious, adding to the debate over what truly constitutes art.
Duchamp also took a postcard print of the Mona Lisa and added a moustache. He then called this piece, “L.H.O.O.Q.”, which reads in French a bit like saying “She’s got a hot ass” (“Elle a chaud au cul”).
This is like remixing and making some sort of meme today. Did Duchamp’s alteration create new art? Is his contribution valid on any levels to make him the artist here?
Modern creative processes and “TikTokification” of content let original artworks get remixed with new and alternative elements. These remixes raise questions about the originality and transformative nature of art, as well as how much new titles and descriptions bring out an entirely new work of art.
I also wonder how important Duchamp’s choice of name was for the piece. What if he hadn’t added a moustache, but had simply taken the postcard of the Mona Lisa and given it a different name? That alone would provoke the viewer into a new perspective.
Like an early meme, perhaps? Duchamp acting more as creative comedian more than artist?
Where does this place us with current reactions to AI art, in which it faces criticism for potential copyright issues and the ethical use of training data? These controversies are needed because the legal considerations are still unfolding. The future of art, especially AI-generated art, is filled with unknowns.
I understand and support the feelings of anger and betrayal expressed by artists, even as I explore AI images myself. There’s a lot to unpack here, largely because the future implications are unclear. As a society, we often receive technologies and innovations without clear guidelines, driven not just by progress but also by profit.
As I work through the impossible quandaries that we face right now, I seek not to call myself an artist by means of prompting AI (even when I use my own reference images and turn off as many AI styling options as possible).
Instead, I see myself as a “Creative Curator”, finding ways through with emphasis on ideas, descriptions, and titles. Just as a urinal is probably the least artistic part of the art, the algorithmic positioning of pixels may be mere utility. The art (whether or not you see art there) comes from the context surrounding the utility.
The Staying Power of Names
Going back to Samantha Clark’s work, even the simple act of naming a piece—like referring to it as “Salted Light”—can significantly affect its reception and interpretation.
“Salted Light” is not going away. It’s now documented, even as a working title. There’s still something tangible for the audience to grasp, even if a new name is decided upon for the finished piece.
The art itself becomes empowered, transcending the visual image presented. You don’t even need to see the artwork to engage with these concepts. I’ve deliberately left you to look for yourself, if you so wish. I do heartily recommend that you read Clark’s full post and inspect the image closely. Explore the implications of “Salted Light” and how it could represent blurred boundaries and interconnected humanity.
Think of all the different interplays that this artwork can represent, and then think about what it represents to you. What does it mean in your eyes? What would you call the piece?
I’ve considered all sorts of different names, including ones which were just daft or even playfully inappropriate. Just to explore where it takes me as I engage with the artwork.
The Museum of Modern Art in New York advises guides and teachers to promote further discussion and engagement by offering questions about the titles. After offering the name, useful follow-up questions would include:
“Does knowing the title change the way you think about the work? How?”
and
“What title would you give this work? Why?”
These questions promote dialogue, personal connections, and new perspectives. A title can profoundly influence how something is viewed and understood. And by considering alternative titles, art opens up to multiple experiences and interpretations, including through the audience.
Ultimately, the number of titles an artwork can hold is boundless, each guiding the audience toward new understandings and transforming the piece beyond its initial presentation.
As fits the AI-generated images, without a clear and obvious author, these images require additional context. As Clark suggests, text is therefore essential in providing this context, helping viewers understand the broader narrative and implications of the artwork. It’s about transforming visual art into a richer, more dialogic form that incorporates textual elements to enhance understanding and engagement.
By naming and describing their works, artists set the stage for dialogue, adding meaning and provoking viewer interaction.
I notice a contrasting point, which I recently discovered through
’s , that Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” is not a singular piece, but four different versions. Each distinct, two in paint, and two in pastel. Munch also produced lithographs of the artwork.
I had overlooked the numerous Screams because all versions carry the same title. If each had a unique name, would I have noticed? And how might my perception of each have differed? Samantha Clark’s point about the power of words in art is important: they provide context that challenges the notion that the artwork should speak for itself, allowing the audience to see beyond the surface.
Hanging by a Shred…
Talking of the audience, is the viewer the artist as well? And can you have a finished work that is never truly finished? Or a work that becomes something else, even when it’s supposedly a fixed entity?
Banksy’s “Girl With Balloon” was shredded the moment it sold at auction, back in 2018. Someone buys a work of art, yet they take away a different work of art. The shredding of the piece transformed it into a piece Banksy called “Love is in the Bin”. The same thing, yet not the same thing. From one title to another.
Once auctioned again (or for the first time...?) in 2021, “Love is in the Bin” sold for around 25 times the amount that “Girl With Balloon” went for.
Ultimately, these interactions suggest that art isn’t merely about what’s presented. The language surrounding art shapes its legacy and how it is understood and appreciated.
All this talk of shredding and memes and so on could lead you to think this is exclusive to the time we’re living in.
But some of this goes way back. Myths, legends, historical poems...They used to be told through spoken word. The main, and often only, way for these stories to persist through generations was for someone to hear, learn, and subsequently retell them. Thus enabling a continuous oral tradition.
This cycle of storytelling could continue for countless generations before perhaps being transcribed into written form or translated into artworks. But does recording these tales into something more permanent change their original meaning or their fluidity? Does such documentation add new context, or merely preserve what was already there?
Let’s meet in the middle of the timeline and consider the Mona Lisa again: Is it actually called the Mona Lisa? Even the Wikipedia page seems uncertain. It is believed that the subject is Lisa del Giocondo. However, there is a potential misunderstanding in her name. ‘Mona’ is likely a corruption of ‘Monna’, an Italian term of respect. This hints at further complexities, such as the possible dual meaning of its Italian title, “La Gioconda”, which not only refers to the subject’s surname but also plays on the word for jocundity or happiness.
The name “Mona Lisa” itself, whether accurately titled or not, has permeated global consciousness, becoming a dominant narrative. Who determines this? It seems to be a collective agreement by humanity to an extent. Even if one day it’s definitively revealed that the painting’s correct title is something else entirely, people will probably continue to refer to it as the Mona Lisa.
Thus, the title of an artwork holds significant power. Titles shape our perception and understanding of art, anchoring it in our cultural psyche.
A Title Provides Voice
Turning back to Samantha Clark’s piece, the working title of “Salted Light” adds a layer of meaning and intent to a piece, influencing its reception and interpretation. They are right that art can’t always speak for itself. The titles, descriptions, blurbs, and artist’s intentions all play a critical role in shaping how art is perceived and understood. The potential for multiple titles opens up a spectrum of possibilities, challenging us to think about continuity and transformation.
Art is complex and nuanced, which is what makes it so intriguing and beautiful. Curiosity drives our exploration of art, and while it may not always lead to clear answers, it propels us on a journey of discovery that can be profoundly rewarding.
If art excludes anyone, I hope there are ways for those who feel alienated or rejected to find their path into the community.
At the very least, something as simple as a title can play a big part in welcoming in the viewer. Their journey is as complex as the artwork it names. Titles challenge, direct, and connect. They compel us to look closer, to think deeper, and to play our own part too.
Art is communication. The title is a leading voice in that communication.
What a thoughtful and in-depth consideration of the whole question of titles for visual art. In a way, though, isn't 'Untitled' also a form of title, explicitly taking a stance in relation to names and language? And I wonder if there's a parallel here between those who feel it's unnecessary to know the names of birds, plants and wildlife in order to appreciate them, and those who feel that naming, and the knowledge that often goes along with that, deepens our relationship and our attentiveness?
I agree about the title being important. It’s strange how these things work, but as a writer, I often start with a picture/ photograph.