Featheon
New member
Greetings,
I'd like to say a few words about my general conception of the artwork. I have been studying the history of Western music, philosophy and the specific discourse of "aesthetics" in American universities for about five years. Before I begin let me say that I have no intention of sounding erudite, and any resort to "jargon" should be taken as a failure on my part to put my concerns into every-day language. I mention my background only to give the reader as much perspective as possible in their perception of me, the author. Allow it simply to aid in your critique of the following text.
Proposition:
It seems intuitive to me that the most common result of any artistic experience is that it challenges/questions our own confidence in our perception of reality.
What suggestion is there of this?
I. From the experience of working on the artwork:
What drives the labor of the artist other than the feeling that he is following a yet untraveled path of inquiry? At the very least (and since we must start somewhere) most dead white men of "Classical" Western culture are known for their claim that it is the "unfolding of an idea," the following through of an inquiry, that creates the possibility of entire symphonies, and so on. From at least Beethoven to Schoenberg, those praised by the social elite joined the conception of an artwork as a recorded growth of a singular idea: "motive," "idee fixe," "tone row," etc. But should we accept this conception of the artwork as a growth of idea? Is it true that the creation of art be the best metaphor for "growth" as it is understood in the sciences? It at least seems true that we are not conscious of what the final form of an artwork will be when we first set out to collect our materials (samples, keyboards, subject matter).
II. From the Critique of Art:
We recognize a certain measure of artistic failure, I claim, when the artist was overtly concerned with the final result of the process. If we sense in the artwork an imitation, as if the complete form of the work had been conceived in advance, then we do enjoy it as art, but as entertainment. Yes, I am aware that such an artwork can still be politically provocative (e.g., an appropriation of a famous portrait of Napoleon but with a black man seated on the horse), but I claim that the experience of such a work is not the same as the recognition of "creative expression" in the most naive sense of the phrase. This welcomed if not enjoyed quest to follow through on an unrealized idea is a significant property of the artistic process: that we are not made anxious by what is unfamiliar to us.
III. From the Non-artistic life (Evidence via Negation):
I believe that, if we are honest about it, most of us seek out patterns of familiarity in order to comfort our daily lives. Often, there isn't enough free time to be inquisitive. Our real work, the kind that more assuredly generates money, alienates us from this kind of artistic inquiry. That is: we easily feel guilty when are perceived as "wasting our time" or "playing," since it will not necessarily generate capital. And since more and more of our social activities involve capital exchange, I argue that confronting an unfamiliar social activity always includes a measure of bravery. If what I say is true, how do we come to enjoy the confrontation with the unknown?
IV. From the History of Science:
It is a famous topic of history that Plato and Aristotle held opposed judgements about the moral value of art. Plato suggests in The Republic that the poets (artists) should be cast out of society, for they foster a fascination with the mere imitation of reality, an obsession with delusion, and, in short, an all-around ignorance of what is true about reality. Aristotle opposed this view by arguing that these imperfect imitations of reality called artworks were in fact, on the contrary, the necessary precondition for discovering truth.
In order to Illustrate Aristotle's argument, take the example of a stick that looks bent when submerged in water: Aristotle is arguing that you don't know what kind of theory of light is correct unless you experience this mis-perception of the stick actually being bent. It is only once you have encountered the error that you know what a correct theory of light might be. (This idea that the experience of errors matter more to a hypothesis than the correct method of inquiry would later be echoed by the G.F.W. Hegel, Karl Popper, Thomas Kuhn, among others.)
This ability to identify "problems" or "mis-perceptions" is part of why Aristotle is indeed known as "the father of empirical science." It is probably true that there are very few people in history that looked at nature the way Galileo and Newton did: identifying problems in nature. For why should one initially think to ask why it is the sun moves across the sky in the way it does? We can present scientific theories in a logical manner (a format called "deduction") but we cannot show how it is that the scientist comes up with the novel hypothesis that he does--this is precisely why Einstein is thought to be a genius: he wasn't even a part of the scientific community when he came up with his relativity papers. Therefore, it has become CONSERVATIVE to see the novel scientific hypothesis as akin to an artistic idea, as more and more alternative theories such as "inductive logic," "positivism" and "falsifiability" have fallen out of favor as means of explaining how scientists come up with the theories that they do. In other words, philosophers of science now argue that the proposition of new scientific hypothesis involves the following through of an unrealized idea the consequences of which cannot be understood using the current preconceptions of regular science (see Thomas Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, for example).
~
I recognize that in many ways this is an incomplete essay, but I am already too anxious to receive criticism, and too uncertain about my conclusions to continue. Please destroy this text.
I'd like to say a few words about my general conception of the artwork. I have been studying the history of Western music, philosophy and the specific discourse of "aesthetics" in American universities for about five years. Before I begin let me say that I have no intention of sounding erudite, and any resort to "jargon" should be taken as a failure on my part to put my concerns into every-day language. I mention my background only to give the reader as much perspective as possible in their perception of me, the author. Allow it simply to aid in your critique of the following text.
Proposition:
It seems intuitive to me that the most common result of any artistic experience is that it challenges/questions our own confidence in our perception of reality.
What suggestion is there of this?
I. From the experience of working on the artwork:
What drives the labor of the artist other than the feeling that he is following a yet untraveled path of inquiry? At the very least (and since we must start somewhere) most dead white men of "Classical" Western culture are known for their claim that it is the "unfolding of an idea," the following through of an inquiry, that creates the possibility of entire symphonies, and so on. From at least Beethoven to Schoenberg, those praised by the social elite joined the conception of an artwork as a recorded growth of a singular idea: "motive," "idee fixe," "tone row," etc. But should we accept this conception of the artwork as a growth of idea? Is it true that the creation of art be the best metaphor for "growth" as it is understood in the sciences? It at least seems true that we are not conscious of what the final form of an artwork will be when we first set out to collect our materials (samples, keyboards, subject matter).
II. From the Critique of Art:
We recognize a certain measure of artistic failure, I claim, when the artist was overtly concerned with the final result of the process. If we sense in the artwork an imitation, as if the complete form of the work had been conceived in advance, then we do enjoy it as art, but as entertainment. Yes, I am aware that such an artwork can still be politically provocative (e.g., an appropriation of a famous portrait of Napoleon but with a black man seated on the horse), but I claim that the experience of such a work is not the same as the recognition of "creative expression" in the most naive sense of the phrase. This welcomed if not enjoyed quest to follow through on an unrealized idea is a significant property of the artistic process: that we are not made anxious by what is unfamiliar to us.
III. From the Non-artistic life (Evidence via Negation):
I believe that, if we are honest about it, most of us seek out patterns of familiarity in order to comfort our daily lives. Often, there isn't enough free time to be inquisitive. Our real work, the kind that more assuredly generates money, alienates us from this kind of artistic inquiry. That is: we easily feel guilty when are perceived as "wasting our time" or "playing," since it will not necessarily generate capital. And since more and more of our social activities involve capital exchange, I argue that confronting an unfamiliar social activity always includes a measure of bravery. If what I say is true, how do we come to enjoy the confrontation with the unknown?
IV. From the History of Science:
It is a famous topic of history that Plato and Aristotle held opposed judgements about the moral value of art. Plato suggests in The Republic that the poets (artists) should be cast out of society, for they foster a fascination with the mere imitation of reality, an obsession with delusion, and, in short, an all-around ignorance of what is true about reality. Aristotle opposed this view by arguing that these imperfect imitations of reality called artworks were in fact, on the contrary, the necessary precondition for discovering truth.
In order to Illustrate Aristotle's argument, take the example of a stick that looks bent when submerged in water: Aristotle is arguing that you don't know what kind of theory of light is correct unless you experience this mis-perception of the stick actually being bent. It is only once you have encountered the error that you know what a correct theory of light might be. (This idea that the experience of errors matter more to a hypothesis than the correct method of inquiry would later be echoed by the G.F.W. Hegel, Karl Popper, Thomas Kuhn, among others.)
This ability to identify "problems" or "mis-perceptions" is part of why Aristotle is indeed known as "the father of empirical science." It is probably true that there are very few people in history that looked at nature the way Galileo and Newton did: identifying problems in nature. For why should one initially think to ask why it is the sun moves across the sky in the way it does? We can present scientific theories in a logical manner (a format called "deduction") but we cannot show how it is that the scientist comes up with the novel hypothesis that he does--this is precisely why Einstein is thought to be a genius: he wasn't even a part of the scientific community when he came up with his relativity papers. Therefore, it has become CONSERVATIVE to see the novel scientific hypothesis as akin to an artistic idea, as more and more alternative theories such as "inductive logic," "positivism" and "falsifiability" have fallen out of favor as means of explaining how scientists come up with the theories that they do. In other words, philosophers of science now argue that the proposition of new scientific hypothesis involves the following through of an unrealized idea the consequences of which cannot be understood using the current preconceptions of regular science (see Thomas Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, for example).
~
I recognize that in many ways this is an incomplete essay, but I am already too anxious to receive criticism, and too uncertain about my conclusions to continue. Please destroy this text.