What Is Art in Contemporary Art? The Italian Provocation

The real question is: Is this truly art, or merely a pursuit of scandal?

After diving deep into the works of Maurizio Cattelan, Piero Manzoni, Paolo Schmidlin, and Jago, I find myself asking the same persistent question: What is art now? Where are the lines? Are there any left?

It feels like the art world has become a game of who can provoke the most, with spectacle and scandal reigning supreme. And yet, beneath the surface, there’s this undeniable tension between craft and controversy, between skill and sensationalism. Is this the future of art, a landscape where quiet mastery is overlooked, and provocation is the only thing that sells?

The Art of Scandal: From Bananas to Popes

Look no further than Cattelan’s Comedian, the infamous banana duct-taped to a wall, sold for $120,000. It was as simple as it was outrageous.

Maurizio Cattelan - Banana Duct-Taped

People weren’t buying the fruit; they were buying the conversation. It wasn’t about craftsmanship but about how much attention it could generate. And it worked. The banana became a viral symbol of the absurdity of value in the contemporary art market.

This isn’t a new phenomenon. Piero Manzoni’s Merda d’Artista, literal cans of his own excrement sold at a price higher than gold, mocked the same art world that Cattelan’s banana criticized.

Piero Manzoni - Merda d’Artista

Manzoni’s tin of feces isn’t just a critique of art’s commodification; it’s a blatant provocation, an intellectual joke that the art market bought into. In both cases, the scandal of the piece became the value of the piece. The object was secondary to the idea, and the reaction.

The Pope as a Provocative Subject

Then we have Paolo Schmidlin’s Miss Kitty, where Pope Benedict XVI is depicted as an elderly man dressed in women’s lingerie. Like Cattelan, Schmidlin knows that the figure of the pope holds immense power as a symbol. There’s something about the pope that guarantees scandal and attention.

Paolo Schmidlin - Miss Kitty

Miss Kitty doesn’t just challenge traditional views of gender and aging, it turns one of the most authoritative religious figures into a subject of raw, unsettling critique. It’s both grotesque and fascinating, and it raises an important question: *Is this art meant to challenge deeply held beliefs, or is it simply designed to shock?

Jago's “Habemus Hominem” and the Need to Provoke

Even Jago, an artist I deeply admire and consider one of the finest sculptors of our time, felt the need to lean into scandal with his work Habemus Hominem, depicting Pope Benedict XVI stripped of his papal robes, reduced to a vulnerable, fragile human being. It’s an image that instantly grabs attention, but it also reflects a growing trend: no matter how skilled you are, you need to provoke to be seen.

Jago - Habemus Hominem

Jago doesn’t need to rely on scandal, his technical brilliance speaks for itself, but it seems even he recognizes the need for provocation in today’s art world.

When Provocation Becomes a Shortcut

What’s troubling here is how provocation has become a kind of shortcut, a way to guarantee visibility in a landscape that rewards the loudest, most scandalous voices. It makes me wonder: What happens to the skilled and innovative artists who don’t want to rely on shock value?

The Rise of AI Art: Another Layer of Complexity

Enter AI art. If the art world is already shifting toward a space where ideas and provocation take precedence over craft, then where does AI fit into this equation? AI can produce art that is visually stunning, conceptually interesting, and even provocative in its own way. But does it need to scandalize to capture attention, or does AI offer an opportunity for art to return to a focus on creation, unburdened by the need to shock?

The Struggle for Relevance

As I think about all these artists, Cattelan, Manzoni, Schmidlin, Jago, it’s clear that the art world is in a state of tension. On one hand, we have artists like Jago who possess extraordinary skill but feel the need to provoke in order to stay relevant. On the other hand, we have works like Comedian or Merda d’Artista, where the provocation is the art. It’s a balancing act between mastery and spectacle, between meaningful creation and mere scandal.

Where Do We Go from Here?

So, where does this leave us? Is contemporary art doomed to be defined by scandal and spectacle, or is there still room for artists who value craft over controversy? As AI enters the mix, will it follow the same path of provocation, or will it create a space where ideas and craftsmanship can coexist without the need for scandal?

Ultimately, the future of art depends on whether we can find a balance between spectacle and substance. Whether we can continue to embrace the power of provocation while also valuing the quiet, thoughtful work of artists who may not make headlines but whose contributions are just as vital. It’s a future worth fighting for—one that doesn’t lose sight of the fact that art, at its best, is more than just a viral moment. It’s an experience, a reflection, a deeply human endeavor.