Whatever Happened to Nuance?
I am a self-professed black-and-white thinker. It’s a difficult disposition to unlearn, despite my best efforts – especially in a world where the shades of grey are rapidly diminishing.
We live in an increasingly polarised world; our divisions seem to grow by the day, becoming ever more difficult to traverse. Perhaps this polarity is a reaction to the saturated state in which we find ourselves: faced with an overabundance of information and opinion, we cling to fixed points of view, anchors in an overwhelming and tumultuous sea.
We have arrived at a moment where nuance appears to have no room. As a society, as a community, we have decided that art must conform to a set of moralistic standards to be accepted, or at the very least, deserving of a public platform. But we have lost sight of the fact that art’s power often lies in its ambiguity and refusal to deliver definitive answers.
The question of whether art should communicate a message is still up for debate. Many artists do not create with the intention of making a statement; they simply create. The viewer is then free to imbue the work with meaning. Once art enters the public domain, the artist relinquishes control over its interpretation.
Yet, we seem to have forgotten this. Increasingly, we classify works of art as belonging to ideological camps. This tendency has not been discouraged by cultural institutions or curators. On the contrary, programming decisions often exacerbate the issue—works have been decommissioned, removed, or entire exhibitions cancelled in response to public outcry over their perceived appropriateness. Institutions are under pressure to maintain public favour and financial support and are often quick to distance themselves from any kind of controversy. However, in doing so, the very divisions through which they seek to navigate are reinforced.
Take the recent removal of Jesus Speaks to the Daughters of Jerusalem by Australian artist Philjames from the Blake Art Prize exhibition in Liverpool. Following claims that the artwork constituted an ‘attack on Christianity’, and amid a torrent of threats, including threats of violence against the gallery, the city mayor asked for its withdrawal. The work, which depicts a biblical scene overlaid with Looney Tunes figures, was removed.
This is not an isolated case. The past decade has seen a growing number of exhibitions altered, censored, or preemptively cancelled in response to public outrage. Often, these reactions are amplified by social media, where discourse is shaped by algorithms that prioritize outrage over reflection. Platforms such as X and Instagram encourage binary takes that leave no room for deliberation. The speed of online discourse, combined with its tendency to reward outrage, makes it increasingly difficult to sit with complexity.
We are eager to pigeonhole art using frameworks external to the creative sphere. But one of art’s essential functions is subversion. It exists as a space where artists can engage with the world around them. Sometimes, it’s not that deep.
By assigning rigid labels to artists and their work, we are not just interpreting art; we are dictating the "correct" way to see it. And these prescribed views are often diametrically opposed. But no singular "right" way to interpret art exists. Art thrives on differences in perspective.
And yet, rather than embracing this plurality, we seem intent on shutting it down.
Instead of rushing to categorise, to claim an artwork for a particular ideology or to disavow it entirely, what if we slowed down? What if we looked before we judged? What if we allowed ourselves time to consider?
Art is meant to challenge, to unsettle, to provoke thought—but also to remain open-ended. Not every work demands an immediate answer or an absolute stance. Some pieces exist in the in-between, inviting contemplation rather than resolution.
Cultural insitutions have a role to play in this space – rather than ceding to public pressure under fear of controversy, they have a responsibility to defend art’s role in provoking discussion. As viewers, we must resist the urge to judge too quickly and in absolutes.
We need to reclaim space for open discourse. Not just for the artist’s sake, but for the viewer’s. The joy of art lies in interpretation, in the shifting of perspectives, in the ability to see something differently with each return. If we reduce it to a binary of "acceptable" or "unacceptable," we lose something fundamental: the opportunity to think, to wonder, to engage.
Art is about nuance. Let’s not forget that. But more importantly, let’s practice it.