interpretive communities and no-clothes emperors

I read an article about Han van Meegeren, who was a painter who copied the style of Jan Vermeer to pass off his own paintings as lost Vermeers. He was so successful that one of the most prominent Dutch art critics called a painting by Van Meegeren the greatest Vermeer.

Naturally, the public and critical opinion of the painting dropped precipitously when it was discovered to be a "fake."

Errol Morris, the author of the article, alludes to "The Emperor's New Clothes," suggesting that everyone agreed on an opinion to bolster their reputations. This comparison casts an unfavorable light on the art community at large, as it suggests that art lovers only care about the name of the artist, which is to say they only care what everyone else thinks.

This is true to a point. We all belong to interpretive communities, to use Stanley Fish's term, which goes for everything from fine art to things as mundane as our everyday speech. The ideas that we use to communicate within our communities carry agreed-upon meanings, which also means that they carry agreed-upon value.

This idea clashes with the typical discourse on art--a successful work of art is a communication between the artist and the viewer that is felt personally and deeply. We like to think that there is something transcendent about great art that speaks to our soul, something that we can feel but not explain. To ground such a feeling in something as explainable as an interpretive community seems to rob us of our personal feelings about the art that we love.

But we can't entirely explain away our personal feelings about works of art. Even if we take into consideration the confluence of our many interpretive communities, we still have favorites and dislikes that are idiosyncratic.

Besides, why is it so disappointing to see works of art as things that bind us to our communities, shared cultural experiences? I still love classic rock because my older brothers listened to it when I was growing up. When I hear certain songs, a large part of my enjoyment comes from knowing that my brothers enjoy it too.

There is also enjoyment in your idiosyncratic tastes; I proudly dislike some Van Halen songs, and I enjoy The Fall even if no one I know listens to them. But it's a false hope to try to attain 100% idiosyncratic taste. If artists and art lovers in the West would own up to the extent to which our communities shape our opinions, we would be less vulnerable to detractors who claim that art lovers are merely dilettantes. Thoughts?