Then why are we discussing about the good or bad of a image. It may be that the viewer doesn’t understand the artists cerebral effort ....
As I've noted in the past, I don't entirely subscribe to the post-modernist experiment. I think there is good and bad, but also I do not think the artist's intent is necessarily the ultimate guide. Nor do I think it is irrelevant. When I put on my critic hat, I am doing something quite specific, which I will now outline!
A critic renders judgement, their own judgement. That is literally the job. This judgement, though, is tempered, it is not merely "I like it" or "I don't like it.'
The critic places themselves into the shoes of some hypothetical audience, and attempts to answer the question "what will that audience get out of this?" The audience could be, and altogether too often is, merely other critics. It might also be average citizens. The audience could be, and probably sometimes is, "Malians with a university education."
The judgement of what the audience might or might not get out might only be "will they like it?" or it might Be (ideally is) more nuanced, more complete.
Roger Ebert wrote movie reviews not for critics, nor for average rubes. He wrote reviews for more or less normal people who like movies, who are attentive to movies, who will approach a movie with an open heart and give the movie a chance. I try to do the same with photography. If you don't like photography, I'm not writing for you. If you're not willing to approach a group of pictures with an open mind and an open heart, I'm not writing for you either. If you only "like" photographs that grab you instantly with glib splashes of color or strong graphics, again, not for you.
I write for a relatively narrow audience of people who like photographs, who find photographs interesting, who have some slight familiarity with photographs (at least), and who are willing to take the time to look, to think, to see, to struggle, to try to understand. For those people, I offer my best guess at what they will get out of the pictures. I offer my guess as to whether they will
like pictures or not, but also and more importantly, what art-like experience will they have. What directions will their minds likely grow, what new insights might they seek out in the work, what enlarging experience they might find in it.
For those people, I offer this on Krawesky's picture as my guess:
You'll like them. They are glib, graphical, pleasing.
You will, most likely, find nothing enlarging, nothing illuminating.