And of course that is a frequent criticism of some other types of art too.
E.g. my son loves art, but gets exasperated at anything remotely abstract. Part of my enjoyment of taking him to art exhibitions is things like when he walked past a Picasso with a look of utter disdain and loud audible huff. Or the conversations we had about Matisse's sculptures, or the paper cutouts from his later years.
(I don't really like Matisse either - the thing I enjoy most of the visual experiences of the Matisse museum in Nice is the olive garden, despite the total lack of intent behind how the tree-branches grow)
I don’t appreciate my kids pictures, but he seems to get some sort of enjoyment out of the act of creation. I think art is based on the intention of the creator and not the viewer.
I think it's fine for it to be either, as long as we recognize that unless the creator tells us their intent, our interpretation is just a interpretation and may or may not even intersect with theirs.
My son is 14 now, and draws plenty of things I enjoy for their actual appearance, but I know most of them are scribbles or practice to him, and I don't try to analyze them for intent that I know usually isn't there.
Meanwhile, two of his pictures from when he was smaller that I know he did with intent, because he told us, and we wrote it down, are scribbles to me.
Shapeless blobs.
One of them I quite enjoy on a visual level, but while to him it was a fox, to me it is a red swirl that while visually pleasing in no way is anything like a fox.
While I wouldn't have it on the wall if it wasn't my son's, his intent behind it does not make it better.
The other is hideous, but his intent was to paint his mum and me, abd so I love it.
For that one the intent is what gives it value to me. That is a rare exception.
But only because he told us, and because of the emotional value of that.
He could've given us any random painting and said the same thing, and it's value would be the same. The "art" in that instance was his statement.
I also know from discussing his drawings with him, that whether he enjoyed a given drawing or I enjoyed seeing it, often correlates poorly - many of his that I enjoy are things he dismisses completely for reasons that does not affect my enjoyment of them at all.
E.g. my son loves art, but gets exasperated at anything remotely abstract. Part of my enjoyment of taking him to art exhibitions is things like when he walked past a Picasso with a look of utter disdain and loud audible huff. Or the conversations we had about Matisse's sculptures, or the paper cutouts from his later years.
(I don't really like Matisse either - the thing I enjoy most of the visual experiences of the Matisse museum in Nice is the olive garden, despite the total lack of intent behind how the tree-branches grow)