In But is it art? Cynthia Freeland reviews several theories of art. Chapter one considers the ritual theory of art and the theories of Hume and Kant. Each one is quickly disposed of.
But why is it so easy to dispose of a theory? What concept of theory is she working with? She tells us on the first page of the Introduction. A theory should “systematically unify and organize a set of observations, building from basic principles” (see the expanded discussion on p. xvii); but a problem arises: “The ‘data’ of art are so varied that it seems daunting to try to unify and explain them. Many modern artworks challenge us to figure out why, on any theory, they would count as art. My strategy here is to highlight the rich diversity of art, in order to convey the difficulty of coming up with suitable theories.”
Given this concept of theory, a theory is expected to give criteria for deciding whether or not something is art. Thus, if a theory says that you can tell that something is art if it has X [so that X is a sufficient condition for something to be art—for example, the property X might be “painted by Leonardo and regarded as a masterpiece by nearly all experts in Renaissance painting”], and you find one object that has X which “we” would not want to classify as art, then the theory is rejected. Or if a theory says that everything that is art must have Y something [so that Y is a necessary condition for anything that is properly classified as art—for example, the property of being crafted to function as a symbol in a ritual], and then you find something that we would want to classify as art that was not crafted to function as a symbol in a ritual, that finding is enough to reject that theory.
But [JHW criticizing CF] that concept of theory has been abandoned by most philosophers today. We can say important things about groups of things (e.g., objects crafted to function as symbols in ritual and paintings by Renaissance masters) without having to claim that our generalizations apply to everything that “we” might want to call art. My own view is that every major theory has some insight that can be gathered. If we try to learn what we can from a particular theory there is often much we can find that we can transplant into our own garden.
The example of a “definition” that side-steps the ambition that CF attributes to theory, the example that has intrigued me over the years, and the one that I put up on the board was this: “The high mission of any art is, by its illusions, to foreshadow a higher universe reality, to crystallize the emotions of time into the thought of eternity.” This “definition” does not deny the legitimacy of art that does not take up this high mission; this definition does, however, direct interpretive attention, since it leads one to ask what emotions of time does a work elicit upon first being seen, to what thought of eternity does it lead the responsible observer, and how does it achieve the first and lead to the second?
Hume holds that the persons with the most highly developed aesthetic taste value art less valued when it exults in practices that violate our shared moral standards. That theory is rejected because of its alleged narrowness: (according to skeptics) those evaluators acquired their values by indoctrination (in other words, by an “educational process” dominated by force and oriented to poor values). [JHW’ crit] What do you think of that reason to reject Hume? Does Freeland really want to embrace radical skepticism regarding value? How shall we establish that her book is free of indoctrination?]
Kant’s theory is described (p. 12 is particularly well done, except for the idea that gratification necessarily contaminates the judgment of taste); but the idea of disinterestedness is not well conveyed; CF speaks of an object appealing to us “in a cool and detached way” (14); she speaks of “a special and disinterested response of distance and neutrality” (15). But what Kant means is different: something beautiful may be created or used with an eye to various practical goals (such as moral edification or political goals), but such purposes are not the essential in aesthetic experience. CF’s claim that Kant was “a devout Christian” is problematic, too. [Note that when we speak of aesthetic judgment in Kant we are simply speaking about sentences like “This rose is beautiful.” Fine-grained analysis and comparison is not necessarily involved.]
Nevertheless, CF’s conclusion, stated at the beginning of chapter 2 is correct: the theories discussed in chapter 1 are flouted by the notorious examples of modern art featured in that chapter.
In order to dislodge conventional limitations in the reader’s concept of what art is, CF choose “shock tactics” (Introduction, p. xix), and then defusing the shock a little by connecting the present shocking work with works from earlier artists. Andres Serrano has created photographs, e.g., Piss Christ (1987—see the photo after p. 105), which “threaten” the meaning of religious symbols by juxtaposing them with more secular symbols (e.g., the title). Serrano says that he intended by his title to criticize the lack of genuine spirituality in contemporary religious institutions. In the web of his home-cultural associations, urine is not a symbol of the repulsive.
“It seems unlikely that we [who go to an art gallery] are seeking to contact the gods and higher reality, or appease the spirits of our ancestors” (28). This sophisticated statement of fact actually refers to superstitions to discredit religion. Actually many people do go to galleries in quest of contemplative and spiritual experiences; Clive Bell (p. 15), a formalist critic who championed abstract expressionism, was one of them.]
[She observes, “Probably the critics of modern art are nostalgic for beautiful and uplifting art like the Sistine Chapel.” [JHW crit] This move functions to discredit opposition to Serrano’s work by a bogus type of argument that philosophers call an “abusive ad hominem fallacy.” In other words, the critic abusively attacks the person instead of taking the idea seriously and dealing responsibly with its pros and cons.]
Note that, according to Kant, a work of beautiful art can be a beautiful representation of something ugly. Kant, p. 131, first full paragraph 1 (think of ancient Greek tragedy). As an artistic philosopher Plato could represent a character with an ugly psyche (Ion), write dialogues that failed to find the answer to the question pursued (e.g., Euthyphro), and create a narrative of historical devolution (Republic Books VIII-IX). The beauty was on a higher level than that of the appearance to material perception. But there Plato always gave a gleam of truth (or, if you will, a gleam of what he took for truth), an insight to guide further inquiry.
[JHW’ alternative] I propose a couple of ways of looking at Serrano that seem to me consistent with the overall perspective of Lucy Lippard. First, I think I have seen some efforts to produce post-Christian or post-Buddhist art (a Japanese short story by Akutagawa titled “Rashoomon” is what I have in mind) fail because spiritual power prevails over secular disrespect, regardless of the authors’ intent. In other words, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
A symbol cannot control its interpretation. One of the most beautiful gardens which I have ever seen in photographs is a so-called “fascist garden.” This one is a wildly glorious creation in Great Britain including a small pond in which we can see a stand atop which is a small battleship. The battleship strikes the average viewer as quite out of place, thus stimulating the reflective viewer to puzzle it out. The garden itself cannot exclude a possibility opposite to the one intended; namely, the battleship could be read as ironic; in other words, a peace garden could put an image of war in such a lovely context as to take away its power to arouse military emotions. (By the way, it seems relevant to observe that the pools in the gardens at Versailles were used to test small-scale models of warships.)
Similarly, the urine presented in Serrano’s photograph could be seen as a symbol of all the horribleness that—then and now—has challenged the life and mission of Jesus of Nazareth.
Part of CF’s strategy in defense of these “difficult” works of art is to show their similarities to earlier works created by acknowledged masters. Violence and the morally horrible is represented in art by Goya’s Caprichos http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4BwLUM3pJI http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caprichos
Chapter 2. Paradigms and purposes
A paradigm is a pattern or model that serves as a prime example
CF continues her review of the diversity of exemplary works (paradigms) and theories (often proposing some purpose or function for art works). One lesson from her review is that theory is especially tuned to the salient examples of works of art in the theorist’s culture.
Tragedy and imitation. In ancient Athens, tragedy emerged as a mode of drama, sometimes (e.g., Medea, pp. 32-34) in ways that did not fit the norms proposed by Plato (here misinterpreted by CF) and Aristotle. [In other words, if the purpose of a theory is to give a description that is illustrated by every tragedy performed on stage, then Aristotle fails.] [Remember that Plato’s critique of imitation has in mind intellectually blind copying for sensational purposes; and Aristotle’s concept of imitation (mimesis) really means representing—e.g., a noble person with a tragic flaw. Aristotle’s concept has little in common with Plato’s.]
Chartres and medieval aesthetics. In medieval France the cathedral of Chartres is a paradigm of the architecture of contemplative mysticism, blended with the secular life of the time. Its proportions, light, and allegorical features make it a paradigm of Christian European medieval aesthetics. The cathedral illustrates the qualities of luminosity regarded as a presencing of the divine. Everything in the cathedral is meaningful, symbolizing some person or story familiar to many of the people of that place and time. CF’s version of Thomas Aquinas’s key concept of the transcendentals needs tweaking. A transcendental is a characteristic—such as being unity, truth, beauty, or goodness—that can be predicated (in some degree) of everything in every category: things and beings on every level from stones to God, qualities, relations, etc.
Versailles (http://en.chateauversailles.fr/homepage) and Kant. Regarding English gardens, Kant praised “the ‘free’ style of English gardens (as opposed for the constrained, formal French style). The English garden is praised for its capacity to set the imagination free (See the “General Comment,” following §22). The master classical French landscape gardener, André Le Nôtre is indeed worthy of mention. There is a magnificent exhibition devoted to his work at the castle, Vaux-le-Vicomte. There you realize that he was not just a geometric nerd, presenting nature simply as “orderly, tame, and playful” (48). Rather, even at Versailles, Le Nôtre’s gardens show an artistic tension between (a) formal mastery of nature and (b) beautiful/sublime wildness.
Parsifal: suffering and redemption. Wagner illustrates art in which “aesthetic and moral concerns clash to create a quandary in assessing” such works (53). Even the beauty of such works may seductively lead people to go along with ideas that are deeply wrong. Fascists, too, exalted violence and suffering as essential to life.
Brillo Box and philosophical art. Andy Warhol’s pop art had serious overtones, and his Brillo boxes stimulated philosopher Arthur Danto, who, in turn, stimulated George Dicke to come up with his famous (notorious) institutional theory of art: Art is any artifact regarded as a candidate for appreciation by the art world—museum and gallery directors, collectors who purchase the works, and critics who comment on them. According to Danto, works are meaningful in terms of their location in art history and in the history of art theory—especially recent or contemporary history. Every work that has some aspect that is unprecedented creates a new possibility for art. Art is enriched by these new possibilities.
JHW’ reflection on this chapter. CF concludes the chapter by saying that she wants to pursue meaning and value in art, but she repeatedly sets aside normative ideas (that propose higher meanings and values) because of their lack of descriptive adequacy, measured by what gets a lot of attention in “the art world,” or sells for a lot of money, or finds new ways to scandalize people who are trying to be loyal to expanding concepts of truth beauty and goodness and trying to differentiate expansions from trashings.
A friend of mine had a band whose purpose was to break every rule in music. After ten years, my friend (one of whose jobs is a therapist) realized that some of the band members were getting into some psychologically unhealthy places by pursuing that goal, and he moved the group into a different direction, against the protests of a couple of the members. In other words, not everything novel is progress. Some art events where the artist cuts herself (perhaps as a protest against the objectification of the female body) have proven suicidal. Is art enriched by this new possibility, Professor Danto?
Plato’s idea that there is beauty on different levels opens a door for remarkable experiments. In other words, not everything has to justify itself as beautiful to the senses. In other words, a work can be beautiful on an intellectual or ethical level. But then we need serious inquiry about what constitutes ethical beauty. Of course these are contested concepts, but at the very least it must be recognized (I think this is a requirement of intuition, reason, and wisdom) that not everything that claims that mantle is worthy. Some works don’t cut it; if we are unable to say that and to establish such judgments, then chaos wins. There seems to be a lot of that these days, but it is not easy to discern which is which. Is there a way to stay critically engaged without spending so much time consumed in the chaos as to lose your cognitive, aesthetic, and ethical bearings?
My theory: physical, intellectual, and spiritual dimensions somehow align in work that is aesthetically excellent (aka beautiful in a broad sense). Those who chose to be radical skeptics regarding these realms of truth, beauty, and goodness will not, except accidentally, be producers of the kind of art that helps lead the way to a better world. My commitment leaves tons of questions open; but at least it begins to reign in the chaos, the false freedom, the immaturity and commercialism, the scandal for scandal’s sake, and the deceptive appearance of serious intellectual ideas in an artist who has no discipline of cultivating his or her quality of thinking.
A Personal Affair by Japanese novelist Kenzaburo Oe is an example of a work that expresses the ugly to a great extent, but has enough of the positive to light the way forward. The protagonist becomes the father of a seriously handicapped newborn; he goes on an alcoholic binge for three weeks, determines to walk out on every shred of responsibility for this child, and is about to board the plane for Africa with his new girlfriend—who gets on the flight and departs—but at the last minute achieves the moral decision to take responsibility for the care and rearing of his child. The novel is autobiographical in significant measure, and the author’s own child, reared under very difficult circumstances, proved to be a gifted composer, as discovered and nurtured with classic Japanese ingenuity and patience.
3. Cultural crossings
Gardens and rocks
Information about Japanese and Chinese gardens opens a brief discussion of the contemporary world where (as a first approximation) we may say that the art of every culture is in conversation with the art of every other culture.
CF criticizes John Dewey’s reasons for saying that art can “break down barriers among cultures,” since (for Dewey) art is a universal language which can be directly apprehended without the intermediary of anthropological or other knowledge (63). On CF’s account, if, as Dewey said (and she likes this definition of art), art is “the expression of the life of the community,” then we have all the more reason to day that “we must know ‘external’ facts before trying to acquire the ‘internal’ attitude of appreciation for another community’s art” (64). CF later allows that we can feel the power of a culturally strange work, but knowledge “adds considerably to our experience” (66), as is shown with the example of the fetish with nails driven into it.
There is mention of the influential, somewhat Kantian, critic, Clive Bell, whose famous 1913 article, “Art and Significant Form” (excerpted in the Ross anthology [185ff], which prunes the mystical dimension) may be read here: http://denisdutton.com/bell.htm .
In search of the ‘primitive’, ‘exotic’, and ‘authentic’
This section makes the point that collectors can, in effect, play the colonialist role in appropriating for ourselves the art of foreign cultures (the Ross anthology has a section titled “Multicultural theory,” and of the selections there, the piece by James Clifford, “On collecting art and culture,” is most closely relevant to this section in Freeland). And we can be fooled or self-deceived in our embrace of what seems authentic, not realizing that native craftspersons have lives in our contemporary world. [Is this “post-colonialist” critique justified?]
‘Primitive’ art in pristine spaces
The critique in this section has to do with taking things out of their cultural context and putting them in museums. [Heidegger makes this point well in the first two paragraphs of p. 262 in the Ross anthology.] The critique of colonialist attitudes peaks beginning on the last paragraph of p. 73. CF is ready to criticize New Age mysticism’s interest in ‘‘authentic spirituality and shamanistic authority, to escape participation in a crass and demeaning art market system” (74). Is CF’s critical tone on p. 76 about museums justified?
Turning to anthropology
Ethno-aesthetician Richard Anderson finds something akin to art in every culture: “certain things are appreciated for their beauty, sensuous form, and skill of creation, and are treasured even in non-utilitarian settings” (77). [From the philosophers we have studied, whose aesthetics does this remind you of?] Anderson goes on to define art: “Culturally significant meaning, skillfully encoded in an affecting, sensuous medium.” CF likes this definition of art and remarks that Dewey would agree. [Do these features make you think of anyone else we’ve studied?]
Intercultural influence is sometimes distorting and gross, and yet many an artist with a contemporary education refuses to be stuck manufacturing works that satisfy foreigners’ sense of the authentic, exotic, etc.
Post-colonial politics and diasporic hybrids [in the first paragraph of this section the term “post-colonial” refers to the persistence of features of colonialism rather than to the critique of colonialism or to what simply followed the colonial period—the meaning of the term in other contexts, e.g., the top of p. 84.] As ethnic groups mix around the world, the arts play a role.
Conclusion
“A key point is that many people still see art as crucial for addressing basic questions we face—as citizens and individuals—within an ever-new, and often precarious, world situation” (87).
This section features a debate between Dewey and Danto; CF criticizes Danto for (probably) assuming too high a requirement of theory, although she acknowledges that Danto out say that “if people give meaning to objects in a sensuous medium, this amounts to their having a ‘theory’ in an ‘artworld.’ (87). She prefers Dewey, with three qualifications: first, re: the importance of knowledge of the culture; second, the observations that cultures often are too diverse to have a single, unified perspective; and third, that the art from some cultures may not fit concepts of art developed in our own cultures.
4. Monday, Markets, and Museums
This chapter is not assigned. However, it is noteworthy that particular types of museums, with different purposes, serve different groups of people (or try to feature exhibits or events that highlight particular identities, e.g., ethnic. The varieties catalogued ranger from avant-garde to kitsch, from commercializing to non-profit, from critical to co-opted, from highly skilled to a community project where skill is de-emphasized (117), to varieties of performance art (117) and the enhancement of the equipment of daily living (the Arts and Crafts movement, 119). Read the short section on public art, with its paragraphs on Dewey, beginning on p. 116.
5. Gender, genius, and Guerilla Girls
Some feminists have aggressively attacked figures and institutions in the art world about the fact that women are such a small minority of artists begin presented (123-26). Why do we recognize no women artists on a par with the greatest of artists who are men? Linda Nochlin (1971) explained the fact with reference to historical social conditions (126-19). Kant had anthropological explanations of, e.g., the different aesthetic tastes and abilities of women (who allegedly lacked the requirements for being a genius). [In the Ross anthology, beginning on p. 128, #47 sets forth the aesthetic (not anthropological) idea of genius; take time to read the witty conclusion on p. 130!] (129-32). Some feminists want to expand the canon (the unofficial list of greats in art and music)(133-137), whereas others challenge the alleged power and dominance relations implicit in the values implicit in the canon—or even in the very idea of a canon (132-33 and 137-40). An aggressive portrayal of female genitals by Judy Chicago has been criticized by feminist deconstructionists who see gender as socially constructed and irreducible to biology; the photographs of Cindy Sherman make it impossible to recognize her as the same person dressed and posed in very different ways—thus arguing that women are not available for essentialist stereotyping (141-44). According to CF, the gender or sexual orientation of an artist is sometimes important, sometimes not (144-47).
I’m going to conclude my chapter summary with a draft—not to be shared, please, outside this class—of some ideas regarding sex and gender; I look forward to you comments.
Gender equality and vector-essential complementarity
Philosophy has struggled to do justice to two truths of the relations of men and women: their equality and their complementarity. Each truth can be stated in ways that obscures the recognition of the other truth. Equality theorists have found occasion to criticize complementarity (or difference) theory for betraying the equality of women with men to the social forces of our dark world. And difference theorists have found occasion to criticize equality theory for being an inhumane, modernist intellectual abstraction.
In principle, it is possible to make a distinction of levels, recognizing equality on one level and difference on other level. For example, there can be a basic spiritual (or human) equality on the one hand, and a functional complementarity on another level. If a functional complementarity is right and proper, then even if it involves a superior-subordinate relationship, it should be possible to live that practical asymmetry in a manner that conserves the truth of spiritual equality. “Those who would be the greatest among you should be the ones who serve everyone.” When spiritual equality is conserved, each partner in an asymmetrical relation serves the other.
Notice that asymmetry in relating may depend on the particular project in which persons are engaged. The person who has the responsibility of leadership in one project may be co-leader or a team member in the next project.
Complementarity theory regarding men and women is a type of difference theory that claims that the differences between men and women are complementary. On this view, the differences between men and women are beneficial. They work together in such a way that their cooperation can achieve results that will not be forthcoming in the cooperation of two men or two women (obviously I am not only referring to procreation). How can this idea be stated in a way that is appropriately qualified? I will propose what I call vector essentialism to answer this question.
In this conversation, essentialism claims that there is a set of characteristics that is necessarily a part of being a human being, for example, our freedom or our being created in the image of God, that makes us equal. As regards the complementarity of men and women, essentialism claims that there is one set of characteristics (such as volitional initiative) that are necessarily part of being a man and another set of characteristics (such as personal responsiveness) that are necessarily a part of being a woman. In the essentialism proposed here, the essential difference has to do with the proportion of these two characteristics.
Vector essentialism (as regards the complementarity of men and women) is a modified essentialism that acknowledges the variety of factors operating in the system of an individual person. Thus the essential male or female “vector” can be outweighed by other vectors in the system so that a particular person’s conduct may be more or less masculine or feminine. In other words, some men could act in ways that are more “womanly” than some women, and vice-versa.
The term vector is a metaphor taken from diagrams used in high school physics to symbolize the composition of forces affecting, for example, a cannon ball launched (1) upward and (2) forward in (3) the earth’s gravitational field. The diagram is created, first, by drawing a vertical ascending arrow (or vector) whose length represents the upward force imparted to the projectile. Next, starting from the end of the ascending arrow, a second, horizontal arrow is drawn representing the force imparted to the projectile carrying it, say, north. Last, starting from the end of the horizontal vector, a vertical downward arrow is drawn, whose length represents the distance toward the earth that the gravitational force will have carried the projectile, during the time represented by the diagram. One then draws a line from the point of origin of the first vector, to the end point of the third vector to locate the position of the projectile at end of the trajectory’s represented duration. Obviously such diagrams could be made very complex.
The composition of force diagram for men and women would include vectors representing different proportions of volitional initiative (greater in men) and personal responsiveness (greater in women). I make no claim about whatever other such essential characteristics there may be. The advantage of vector essentialism is that is only predicts a statistical difference between the behavior of men and women, since so many other factors help determine what we are, and these other factors—such as genetics, early childhood experience, and personal decisions—can override the expression of gender-essential vectors.
Thus, vector essentialism has no need for stereotypes, yet it can help us understand typical differences of men and women as observed in many historical cultures. Vector essentialism also promotes empirical openness; it would not shut down all difference-oriented research on apriori grounds or on the grounds that all such research runs an unjustifiable risk of reinforcing oppression. Taken together with humanistic or spiritually based equality theory, vector essentialism liberates research into the complexity of who we are. We shall know the truth, and the truth will make us free from sexisms and free from egalitarian repression of the recognition of difference.
6. Cognition, creation, comprehension
This chapter tackles the question of how we interpret the meaning of art, reviewing expression and the cognitive theories of art. By what criteria are we to judge the theories? “A good interpretation must be grounded in reasons and evidence, and should provide a rich, complex, and illuminating way to comprehend a work of art” (150). For example, Francis Bacon’s 1973 Tryptic is illuminated by biography, but also requires formal appreciation.
Expression theory. Tolstoy saw the function of art as expression, using its means of communication so that the artist imparts to the reader/listener/viewer the same experience as the artist’s original (155). This theory works well for certain artists, art styles such as Abstract Expressionism, for music—think of Bach, Wagner, or Penderecki’s Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima (title added after the work was completed) 155-56. But did Penderecki continuously (or ever?) feel what the work expresses? In the end, it’s the work, not the artist, that is expressive in the sense that pertains to art theory.
Freud said that art expresses unconscious emotions (157). But ideas also get expressed. Suzanne Langer: art in its media can express symbols that cannot be put into words (161). Collingwood: an artist discovers her emotion by expressing it—and making us artists, too (161). Foucault’s commentary on Las Meninas by Velásquez (1656) makes the effective artist (as do Dewey and Danto in a similar way) to be the episteme or the dominant way for cognition to function during that particular period of time.
Cognitive theories: pragmatism. Dewey defines knowledge as “instrumental to the enrichment of immediate experience through the control over action that it exercises” (166). [Next observe similarities between Dewey and Hegel in the idea of art healing a conventional split.] “The medium of expression in art is neither objective nor subjective. It is the matter of a new experience in which subjective and objective have so cooperated that neither has any longer an existence by itself.” Moreover, Freeland writes, Dewey held that “what we learn from art depends upon our aims, situations, and purposes” (167).
Nelson Goodman is a major 20th century philosopher whose aesthetics is represented in our anthology and also in our online notes. “What we know through art is felt [in our body] as well as grasped by our minds. . . . All the sensitivity and responsiveness of the organism participates in the invention and interpretation of symbols” (167). “Goodman held that art can fulfill the same criteria that make scientific hypotheses successful: clarity, elegance, and above all ‘rightness of rendering’. . . . Scientific theoris and artworks create worlds that seem right in relation to our needs and habits (or what can become our habits). If they do this, they help us . . . ‘in the creation and comprehension of our worlds’.” (168). The arts “achieve a cognitive value by altering our modes of perceiving and interacting with the world.”
Mind, brain, and art. A cluster of interacting disciplines—psychology, robotics, neuroscience, philosophy, and artificial intelligence—is calling into question statements about the mind by past psychologists (e.g., Freud) and philosophers (e.g., Goodman) in the past. There is a worry that cognitive science explanations will be “reductive”—in other words, that they will reduce higher level phenomena, full of meaning and value, to lower level phenomena, denuded of meaning and value. [Here are three kinds of examples of reductionist statements: “God is nothing but a psychological projection.” “Psychology can be completely explained in biological terms.” “For the purpose of this study, we will treat biological phenomena simply in terms of chemistry.” The first statement is ontological reduction, saying that an alleged being on one level is nothing but something on a lower level. The second statement is an epistemological claim, saying that one science can be completely translated into the vocabulary of a “lower” science. The third statement illustrates methodological reductionism—a way of proceeding that does not imply either of the other two types of reduction in the minds of the experimenters.] Even though reductionist proposals may have serious problems in them, they also may contain interesting insights.
Interpretation as explanation. The last section is simply a summary. The final word: art does communicate meaning, although there is no one right theoretical approach that tells us how best to interpret every work of art.
[Into the abyss of the revolt against “classical” “beauty”: Donald Kuspitt on the MOMA de Kooning retrospective 2011-12: http://www.artnet.com/magazineus/features/kuspit/willem-de-kooning-at-moma-10-6-11.asp ]
Chapter 7. Digitizing and dissemination
A democracy of images. “Art’s past is digitally disseminated by futuristic technologies across the global village” (178). Viewers around the world can easily see reproductions of famous works of art; televised performances of opera, for example, make it widely accessible. “But for good or ill? And how have artists responded?”
[What are the connotations of the term “democracy”? Why can it be questioned whether or not these phenomena are good?]
Benjamin and tarnished auras. German Jewish and Marxist philosopher Walter Benjamin (1892-40) chronicled the loss of that special halo or aura around great works, a loss that resulted from “the age of mechanical reproduction,” when new technologies could easily make copies of the Mona Lisa, turning a masterpiece into a cheap commodity. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/benjamin/
According to CF, simplifying account, WB regarded technical reproducibility as very promising: the age of photography and film would enable the masses to achieve a [pro-democratic] critical distance from any [potentially fascist] aura.
Absence (of mind). CF claims to refute WB by citing films whose political significance was ambiguous [a quality which she appreciated in Serrano] or even as “presenting a conservative position on the values of marriage and family” [horrors!] (185). Much film, in other words, promise absence of mind rather than critical consciousness. Moreover, CF observes that the aura of the Mona Lisa remains appealing.
McLuhan’s mosaics. Canadian theorist Marshall McLuan (1911-1980) popularized bold theses about the impact of the kind of technology that dominates a given historical age. “The invention of print and books prompted many social changes, fostering individualism, linear thinking, privacy, repression of thought and feeling, detachment, specialization, and even modern militarization (written orders could be disseminated rapidly to an army. But the new media, McLuhan thought, will restore aspects of right-brain functioning suppressed by literacy. . . . The new media promote connectedness and a new international community (‘the global village’) that transcends parochial political barriers. . . . The new media offer an aid or ‘prosthesis’ that changes our senses and even our brains to promote non-linear, ‘mosaic’ thinking, as viewers must fill in the blanks in continuously updated inputs.” (188-89)
McLuhan meets MTV. Amid various observations, CF notes that “By and large the videos are mind-numbing, with formulaic glamour shots, stage sets, pseudo-documentary street scenes, or neon animations. Stage sets littered by flashy cars and beautiful women in fur coats or bikinis make MTV the perfect vehicle for product promotion—videos alternate seamlessly with pulsing ads for shampoos, Levi’s, toothpaste, or even the army, MasterCard, Cadillacs, and life insurance. These relentless ads, coupled with the fundamental marketing aim of the videos themselves—to sell the starts, from Madonna to Eminem and Sisqo—might alarm both McLuhan and Benjamin. They could hardly believe that MTV has facilitated greater democratic participation and fostered the critical awareness of viewers gathered around the world into a genuine global village. Instead it threatens to homogenize the world into a suburban American strip mall, crowded with McDonald’s and Gap stores.” (192-93)
Baudrillard in Disneyland. Cynical simulations. Read these two sections on your own. Adequate notes would reproduce too much of the text. The explanation of concepts is fairly clear, and problematic aspects of the text will be discussed closely in class. JB is partially refuted by the examples of minority groups who “appeared to regain faith in the power of art to express feelings or to convey a message”; and Damien Hirst and others who have “also shown faith in the power of the image to remind us of human mortality (as in Hirst’s shark piece), or to evoke the prickly allure of sexuality” (199-200).
Cyber-art’s immersive future. Diverse artistic innovations in cyberspace are briefly noted.
Re-spinning the web. According to CF, Benjamin would welcome the ability of practically anyone to put forth his or her own art on the web; but he would protest the crass commercialization of websites and spam (203).
McLuhan would welcome the new ‘mosaic’ thinking, “since hypertext is non-linear: links tempt one to mouse-clicks and lead to further paths of exploration. But McLuhan’s distinctions of right- and left-brain thinking seem obsolete. And even though people can connect with individuals and sites around the world, they are isolated and lack ‘integral awareness’ (204).
Baudrillard would see the fulfillment of his predictions, perhaps with cynicism, as the masses are getting “self-seduced.” “The excess of information upon us is a sort of electrocution. It produces a sort of continual short-circuit where the individual burns its cirucuits and loses its defenses.” (204-05).
CF sees self-seduction as having positive potentials. It makes a difference “who is in control of the illusions.” And the big question remains to be determined by the democratic masses. “Artists and ordinary Web surfers alike will have to determine whether cyberspace truly is a new form of absence and ‘transparent evil’, or whether, instead, it is a place for creative, intelligent, and beneficial sensory exploration and communal connection” (205).
Conclusion
CF concludes with a definition of art by environmental artist Robert Irwin: a continuous examination of our perceptual awareness and a continuous expansion of our awareness of the world around us” (207)—and then she goes on to suggest how that broad definition does actually embrace rather adequately the demarcation of what is art from what is not art, a demarcation unsuccessfully attempted by the variety of theories she had been surveying (see the list on 206). Art enhances our awareness of both ourselves and our world. Unlike scientific theories, a theory of art does not predict what artists are going to do next. But there is a lot of evidence that art is something special (208). “Future Goyas and Serranos will no doubt continue to find yet new ways to shock and expand our awareness, using blood and other secretions to alert us to complexities of our spiritual and political lives. And the next Botticellis and Bachs are already no doubt waiting in the wings to ravish us with the beauty of their new sights and sounds” (209).
[What kind of education does it take to help a person become “a Bach”? Where is that education available today?]