A 10-Step Guide to Understanding What Minimalism Actually Is

Image via Complex Original

Like any trite essay you ever wrote back in high school, the first step to understanding a subject is to read a clear definition of it. Dictionary.com defines Minimalism as follows: "A chiefly American style in painting and sculpture that developed in the 1960s largely in reaction against Abstract Expressionism, shunning illusion, decorativeness and emotional subjectivity in favor of impersonality, simplification of form and the use of often massive, industrially produced materials for sculpture, and extended its influence to architecture, design, dance, theater and music." Got it? The definition might not be minimal itself, but hey, it's a starting point.

If you're reading these words, then you likely consider yourself a "visual" person. So what better way to understand Minimalism than with a visual aid? This image comes courtesy of Seattle-born artist Jo Baer, whom the Gagosian Gallery describes as "one of the few true exponents of Minimalist painting."

There's a thin line between art genres, which is why it's essential to be able to identify what is not Minimalist art, as well, particularly when it comes to the work of Abstract Expressionists like Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, and Mark Rothko, who the Minimalists were in opposition to. 

Though all art, at its base level, is a form of individual expression on the part of the artist, Minimalism seeks to let the materials used in a piece's creation exist in a completely literal way. The finished piece should reference nothing other than itself. Pioneering Minimalist painter Frank Stella explained it best when he said of the genre, "What you see is what you see," a statement that came to serve as a sort of mantra for the movement.

Just because Minimalism eschews the idea of personal expression does not mean that it's lacking in creative intention. For Robert Ryman, one of the genre's best-known artists who has a penchant for the color white, the surface and/or brushwork of a painting are as important as any deliberate imagery.

"We have been trained to see painting as 'pictures,' with storytelling connotations, abstract or literal, in a space usually limited and enclosed by a frame which isolates the image," Ryman once noted. "It has been shown that there are possibilities other than this manner of 'seeing' painting. An image could be said to be 'real' if it is not an optical reproduction, if it does not symbolize or describe so as to call up a mental picture. This 'real' or 'absolute' image is only confined by our limited perception."

In the art world, stealing ideas is part of the process. Okay, so "borrowing" might be a better word for it, but finding inspiration in the work of other artists—be they within the same genre or (as is often the case) working in a completely different medium—is a normal part of the creation process.

Inspiration can strike anywhere, and some of the key Minimalist figures were taking cues from sparing types working in all sorts of other creative disciplines. Pulitzer Prize-winning poet William Carlos Williams (who once, in true Minimalist style, wrote that "My surface is myself"), groundbreaking composer John Cage, and Central Park landscape designer Frederick Law Olmstead were among the artists who influenced the likes of Agnes Martin, Robert Morris, Anne Truitt, and Donald Judd.

Just as Martin, Morris, Truitt, Judd, etc. were influenced by the artists who came before them, they too inspired a new generation of artists including music critic Michael Nyman, who is allegedly the first person to attach the "Minimalism" moniker to a piece of music for an article he wrote in The Spectator back in 1968.

Shortly thereafter, Nyman would begin a successful career as a minimalist music composer himself, working in film and television, for which he has earned three Golden Globe nominations. Composers Philip Glass, Steve Reich, and John Adams (who won a Pulitzer Prize for his pared down, 9/11-influenced choral piece, "On the Transmigration of Souls") followed suit and are still actively influencing music today.

In an 1889 essay titled "The Decay of Lying," Oscar Wilde claimed that "Life imitates art for more than art imitates life." And few truer words have been uttered when talking about Minimalism. After decades of Brutalist, Modern, and Postmodern design, architecture took a turn toward simplicity in the late 1980s.

With its roots firmly planted in Minimalist art, and inspired by the Zen philosophy, white became the new black. Gaudy and overwrought spaces were streamlined and de-cluttered; empty space became a fashion statement all its own, as cutting-edge spaces made room for only the most essential elements—a chair here and a table there.

New York and London in particular became hot spots for the movement, with architects like Claudio Silvestrin, who has collaborated with Giorgio Armani on more than two dozen boutiques since 1999, and John Pawson, who gave Calvin Klein's Collection Stores a makeover in the early 1990s. This simple design style—which relies on space, glass, and light to make its most powerful statement—is still the dominant look in many art galleries, boutique hotels, and upscale shopping retailers around the world.

If you've heard Kanye West speak, read his Tweets, listened to "Yeezus" or visited this site on a regular basis, you're probably aware that "Minimalism" must have popped up on Kanye's Word of the Day calendar many times earlier this year, because he's been using it. A lot.

On January 25, Kanye broke 18 days of Twitter silence to share a series of one-word thoughts, "Truth," "Beauty," and "Minimalism" among them. (Though, to be fair, these could have been possible baby names.) In an interview with The New York Times this past summer, he declared, "I'm a minimalist in a rapper's body." And the photos that surfaced of Kanye's New York City loft (designed by the aforementioned Claudio Silvestrin) back in September prove that the man who has at various times declared himself a god, a genius, and the number one rock star on the planet does indeed have an eye for restraint. At least when it comes to his apartment.

For every pared down beat and sparingly furnished Manhattan loft he's got, Kanye just can't stop being Kanye. In other words: over the top. Would a genuine Minimalist rent out an entire ballpark to propose to Kim Kardashian via Jumbotron with the help of a 50-piece orchestra and 15-carat diamond ring? Or make such an elaborate theatrical production of a concert, the likes of which have rarely been seen before? Or stage a performance art piece at Art Basel? Or steal a VMA from a 19-year-old? Read this guide again and you tell us.