Why Isn’t Art Funny More Often?

Fun art Funny Art Funny artwork Funny Painting Funny Pop Art Funny Sculpture

Why Isn’t Art Funny More Often? Let’s start with the obvious: people love to laugh. They pay good money to watch stand-up comedy, share memes all day long, and rewatch sitcoms they've already seen five times. Laughter connects people, breaks the ice, and reminds us we’re human. So here’s a weird question—if humour is such a powerful and joyful thing, why is so much of the art world allergic to it?

Still No Idea Painting by Barrie J Davies, Mixed media on Canvas, 51cm x 41cm, Unframed and ready to hang.

Walk into any major gallery or museum, and you’ll likely see a whole lot of serious faces. Giant portraits of people looking off into the distance like they just got bad news. Abstract stuff so heavy you feel like you need a philosophy degree to “get” it. Sculptures that dare you to make a joke, lest someone look at you like you’ve insulted their ancestors.

Why isn’t art funny more often? And maybe a better question—why do we keep pretending it shouldn’t be?

The Reputation of Seriousness

Let’s be honest. Somewhere along the way, seriousness got confused with meaning. If something is hard to understand or makes us feel a bit uncomfortable, it must be “deep,” right? And if something makes us laugh, then it’s probably shallow or just for entertainment. That’s the myth.

Cat Painting by Barrie J Davies, Original Mixed media painting on Canvas, 20cm x 25cm, fun Pop  Street Art Style and ready to hang.

In reality, funny art can be just as powerful—sometimes more—because it sneaks past our defenses. It gets to the truth without being preachy. It makes people stop and look, not out of obligation, but because they’re actually enjoying themselves.

But the problem is, the art world—especially the institutional side of it—still leans hard into this idea that weighty equals worthy. That’s a huge reason why humor often gets left at the door.

Fear of Not Being Taken Seriously

Here’s a tough one: artists often want to be respected. That’s fair. They’ve poured hours, maybe years, into their craft. But the fear is real: if they make something funny, will people still see them as “real” artists? Or will they be dismissed as a clown, a gimmick, or worse, someone who doesn’t “understand the medium”? That fear kills creativity before it even begins.

Drinking Painting by Barrie J Davies, Original Mixed media painting on Canvas, 20cm x 25cm, Pop Street Art Style and ready to hang.

What’s odd is that in almost every other art form—books, film, even music—humor thrives. You can win a Pulitzer for writing a hilarious novel. Comedy movies dominate box offices. Satirical songs go viral. But visual art? It still feels like you have to whisper if you want to laugh.

Humour Is Risky—And That’s the Point

Let’s not pretend it’s easy to be funny in art. It’s actually incredibly hard to pull off. Timing, context, tone—it all has to hit just right. Plus, humour is subjective. What cracks one person up might leave someone else totally cold. But that’s exactly why it matters.

Art, when it’s at its best, takes risks. It tries something that might fail. It pushes a boundary. Humor is one of the boldest ways to do that. When it works, it can slice through the noise like nothing else.

Look at artists like David Shrigley or Maurizio Cattelan. Shrigley’s dry, absurd doodles are weird and hilarious—but they also dig into modern anxiety and confusion. Cattelan taped a banana to a wall and called it art. People laughed. Others got angry. But they were talking. And thinking. Mission accomplished.

The Audience Is Ready

This might surprise some artists, but audiences actually crave humor in art. When people walk into a gallery and see something that makes them smile—or laugh out loud—it’s a breath of fresh air. It’s an invitation, not a lecture.

Let’s not forget that historically, humour in art isn’t new. The old masters weren’t above sneaking jokes into their work. Look closely at Hieronymus Bosch or Pieter Bruegel. They were full of little visual pranks and strange characters doing ridiculous things. Even Michelangelo, who had all the divine drama you could want, also had a wicked sense of humor in private sketches.

So the real question is, why did we stop?

The Problem with “High vs. Low”

Part of this issue comes from an outdated idea that there’s a difference between “high art” and “low art.” Serious paintings? High art. Cartoons and jokes? Low art. That’s nonsense.

There’s nothing inherently shallow about making people laugh. A good cartoon can cut deeper than a dry oil painting. A clever joke can expose more truth than a dozen serious essays. Humor doesn’t cancel out meaning—it delivers it in a different package.

The only real difference between “high” and “low” art is who decides what’s worth attention—and unfortunately, gatekeepers still lean toward the solemn.

How Humour Changes the Game

Let me tell you what happens when you bring humor into your art practice: people relax. They stop trying to decode everything and start engaging. They talk to each other. They stay longer. They remember what they saw. And—this part is gold—they come back.

Humour doesn’t just entertain. It opens a door. It builds trust. It humanises the artist and makes the experience feel real, not distant. When someone laughs at a piece of art, it sticks. The message lands softer, but deeper.

Humour Can Be Sharp

Let’s not mistake funny for fluffy. Some of the most biting social commentary has come wrapped in humor. Political cartoons. Satirical paintings. Irony-laced installations. These works don’t just entertain—they challenge, provoke, and spotlight things that need to change.

Banksy, for example, gets away with saying things bluntly because he cloaks them in clever humour. His stunts are funny—but they’re also making strong points. And people listen. Humor lets you be subversive without shouting.

If you want to say something controversial, humor can soften the blow while sharpening the impact. That’s not weakness. That’s strategy.

So Why Isn’t It Done More?

Here’s the brutal truth: it takes guts. Making funny art means risking being misunderstood. It means trusting your audience to get the joke. It means stepping out of the comfort zone of solemn approval and trying something that might flop.

But that’s where the magic is.

Once you get over the fear, it’s freeing. You start to remember why you wanted to make things in the first place. Not to win some imaginary badge of “importance,” but to connect, express, surprise—even to have fun.

Yes, fun. Imagine that.

Final Thoughts: Bring the Funny Back

So, why isn’t art funny more often? It’s not because it can’t be. It’s not because it shouldn’t be. It’s because too many people have convinced themselves it doesn’t belong. That’s the part we need to change.

If you’re an artist, give yourself permission to make work that laughs, smirks, pokes, or even rolls its eyes. Play around. Be weird. Be witty. Your art can still be powerful—and it might reach even more people because of it.

And if you’re someone who visits galleries or scrolls through art online, look out for the humor. Appreciate it when you see it. Encourage it. Because let’s face it—we could all use more laughter these days.

Art doesn’t always have to whisper in Latin. Sometimes, it’s way more honest when it tells a joke.

Here is a quick video about one of my new paintings. 



Older Post Newer Post

We're sorry, but your access to our site is currently restricted. If you believe this is an error, please contact support for assistance. Thank you for your understanding.

none
none
https://google.com
none
188.114.96.0,188.114.97.0,2a06:98c1:3120,2a06:98c1:3121,188.114.96.2
82.3.222.76
false
barrie-j-davies.myshopify.com
none