If a painting is created mainly to match a luxurious interior rather than to express something deeply personal or challenge ideas, then it leans more toward decorative art, even if it’s technically a painting. It becomes part of the decor rather than a standalone statement.
That raises an interesting question—does the intent of the artist or the way the artwork is used define whether it’s fine art or decorative art? If someone paints with raw emotion and meaning but it ends up as a luxury wall piece, does that change what it is?
Especially with modern abstract painting—it’s everywhere in high-end homes, hotels, and corporate spaces. A lot of it seems designed to be aesthetically pleasing but not too thought-provoking, so it blends into the environment rather than demanding attention. It feels like abstraction has been commercialized into a luxury good rather than a form of deep expression, at least in many cases.
Of course, that doesn’t mean all abstract art today is purely decorative. There are still artists pushing boundaries and using abstraction in meaningful ways. But a lot of what sells seems to be more about fitting a vibe than saying something.
“I don’t think it’s necessary to be original. It’s necessary to be honest.”
Martin Creed: What’s the point of it? is the first major retrospective of Creed’s ingenious and often highly provocative work. Since the beginning of his career, when he made small objects that could be placed anywhere, Creed has made work that questions the very nature of art and challenges taboos. His work takes on a multitude of forms—from sculpture, paintings, neons, films and installations, to music and performance—appearing both in the art gallery and in broader public circulation. At once rigorous and humorous, his art continually surprises, disrupts and overturns our expectations. It reflects on the unease we face in making choices, the comfort we find in repetition, the desire to control, and the inevitable losses of control that shape existence.
Martin Creed Work No. 88 1995 A sheet of A4 paper crumpled into a ball.
If a painting is created mainly to match a luxurious interior rather than to express something deeply personal or challenge ideas, then it leans more toward decorative art, even if it’s technically a painting. It becomes part of the decor rather than a standalone statement.
That raises an interesting question—does the intent of the artist or the way the artwork is used define whether it’s fine art or decorative art? If someone paints with raw emotion and meaning but it ends up as a luxury wall piece, does that change what it is?
Especially with modern abstract painting—it’s everywhere in high-end homes, hotels, and corporate spaces. A lot of it seems designed to be aesthetically pleasing but not too thought-provoking, so it blends into the environment rather than demanding attention. It feels like abstraction has been commercialized into a luxury good rather than a form of deep expression, at least in many cases.
Of course, that doesn’t mean all abstract art today is purely decorative. There are still artists pushing boundaries and using abstraction in meaningful ways. But a lot of what sells seems to be more about fitting a vibe than saying something.
Object-Oriented Ontology (OOO) isn’t an art movement originally, but a philosophical framework that’s had influence in contemporary art and theory.
Here’s the gist:
What it is: OOO is a branch of speculative realism, developed mainly by Graham Harman, Levi Bryant, and Ian Bogost in the early 2000s.
Core idea: Objects exist independently of human perception. A chair, a rock, a virus, or even a fictional character has its own reality that isn’t reducible to how humans experience or use it.
Why it matters for art: Traditional Western art has long been human-centered — even abstract or minimalist works are often framed around human meaning or perception. OOO pushes back against this “anthropocentrism.”
In art practice: Artists influenced by OOO often explore the agency of objects themselves, how materials interact with each other, or how nonhuman entities (machines, ecosystems, algorithms) shape reality. This can look “anti-human figure” because the focus shifts from people to things.
Examples in art influenced by OOO:
Installations where objects “confront” viewers as independent beings.
Works that emphasize materiality — like how steel, plastic, or digital code behaves on its own.
Ecological and post-humanist art that treats humans as just one actor among many.
So in a sense, OOO isn’t anti-human like Suprematism or Constructivism were, but it de-centers humans — making the human figure no longer the default subject of art.
