Much of art can be considered non-fiction: a reflection of reality, captured with varying degrees of accuracy. The goal seems to be to put on canvas a replica of what the eye can see, though of course it is never exactly that.
Even the Mona Lisa, celebrated as one of the most famous realist paintings, is not a perfect reflection of reality. Leonardo Da Vinci’s idealization of his model, such as omitting her eyelashes, demonstrates that even realist paintings blend reality with fiction.
In contrast, fiction painters, myself included, create imaginary scenes that are untethered from direct reality. There may be a hint of reality showing through, but for the most part what you see is not what your eye gets. Fiction painting is out there somewhere, or in there somewhere, expressing the artist’s psyche. But to be fair, even fiction painters allow their consciousness to intervene, and a tiny dollop of non-fiction reality often surfaces. Not that this is a problem. Blending the two sometimes brings out the best of both worlds.
As you can see in my painting, The Weight of Memories, the dreamlike horse, disembodied face, and ascending figures blur the boundaries between the real and the unreal. This abstraction opens a space for interpretation, inviting questions about humanity’s connection to the natural world. Does the fictional face resting on the horse suggest humanity’s domination over animals — or perhaps a yearning for a more harmonious relationship? Similarly, do the two female figures swimming upward represent humanity’s struggle to transcend a superiority complex, or do they hint at a deeper reconciliation with nature?
While a realist painting of a horse and human might capture the beauty of the moment, it is unlikely to evoke the same layered questions about humanity’s complex relationship with the natural world.
This raises an essential question: which type of painting — fiction or non-fiction — has the greater capacity to reveal truth and evoke deep meaning? While realist landscapes can inspire serenity or reflection, fiction paintings challenge us to step outside the familiar, opening the door to the subconscious and symbolic. It challenges both the artist and the viewer to confront deeper truths that realism, rooted in the familiar, may never fully explore.
While a realist landscape painting can provoke serenity, inspiration and reflection, the viewer is grounded, and safely so, in seeing what could be seen if he or she could be transported to the scene of the painting.
Fiction paintings provide no such familiarity. Fiction paintings cause the viewer to swim in the abstractness and draw conclusions that no perfect rendering of a nature scene could ever elicit. Abstract art trades in the subconscious, allowing both artist and art viewer to tap into their inner thoughts, emotions and perceptions. Fiction paintings often incorporate symbolic elements and hidden messages which allow viewers to engage in a rich, visual dialogue. Simply put, fiction paintings require more of the viewer, and many viewers may resist it for that reason.
Beauty is always in the eyes of the beholder, and most beholders want to grace their walls with beautiful, safe, non-controversial art. Is it purely discomfort that drives this preference, or does it stem from societal conditioning to seek clarity and familiarity in art?
In the end, the choice between fiction and non-fiction art is deeply personal, shaped by our willingness to confront the unknown. Fiction art, with its abstract and symbolic nature, challenges us to look inward and engage with deeper truths. Whether we choose the comfort of the familiar or the challenge of the mysterious, the most powerful art is the kind that sparks connection and reflection — either with the world around us or the world within.