I've read somewhere, it's related to the fine arts tradition: there was a movement, perhaps by the postmodernists, that retaliated against the orderly formalist tradition with patchy, eclectic forms. From the formalist's' point of view, such works were nothing more than a chaos--without any proper form, nor do it fulfilled basic requirements for an artwork. And the formalist was disgusted by the fact that these so called artists who have the gall to call their works as arts.
Then there was a critic, half-accepting half-cynical, saying that in this new form of--what we could consider--'arts', such chaotic and disordered style, with frequent repetition and slowly establishing itself as a form of arts, was not much different from the older tradition--one that it retaliated so valiantly so.
If you carefully observe, there is order within the chaos. For chaos that repeatedly emerges on the canvas requires a certain rule and direction for the canvas to be recognised as an artwork. It is order that gave a form to the chaotic strokes of brush.
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