FUNDAMENTALS OF A PHILOSOPHY OF ART
<<Previous | 1
| 2 | 3 | 4
| 5 | 6
| 7 | 8
| 9 | 10
| 11 | 12
| 13 | Next>>
II
The technical beginnings of kitsch, as we have seen, stemmed
from the Renaissance and found their roots in certain elements
of the style and in certain ideas of Renaissance painting. The
Greeks, for example, could never have made the mistake about beauty
that the Renaissance did: namely, trying to describe perfect beauty
by assembling a synthesis of one beautiful woman from a hundred
different models. And while, for example, the synthesis of the
scientific side of Leonardo da Vinci with the artistic side did
not harm his art, the style itself had certain dangers which became
apparent later when the technical skills were put to a different
use--as they were in the portraiture of the English School which,
though it had nothing to do with art, stemmed technically from
the Renaissance. This relatively harmless form of this particular
type of kitsch--the presenting of reality rather than experience--came
to an end at the end of the 19th Century, but kitsch itself certainly
did not end--on the contrary: it took on more and more an anti-artistic
form.
Now let’s look for a moment at one of the toughest problems
facing the artist since about the beginning of the 19th Century:
the placing of the human figure in a landscape. With the breakdown
of the cosmological and the theological approach brought about
by Kant--that is, with the breakdown of the framework within which
man had lived for so long (where the world had meaning because
it was either made by God or was considered to be a cosmos that
contained meaning in itself)--man’s position towards the
world changed--and with this change of position the artist found
himself struggling with the problem of how to re-unite the human
figure with a cosmos that was not even a cosmos any more, that
no longer contained meaning in itself, and that no longer carried
with it still certain undertones of myth.
Approached from an over-all point of view of man’s new
position in the world and his new relation to nature and things
in nature (as Cezanne did approach it) the problem was tough enough
(so tough in fact that even Cezanne almost faltered and after
a few very early attempts only came back to the human figure itself
in nature after long years of painting landscapes and still-lifes),
but there was yet another complication-- especially for those
artists interested in painting the nude female figure: the complication
of an almost inevitable association by the beholder between the
nude figure in the painting with the model who might have posed
for it. Always before this--as long as the poetical image of myth
lasted--the beholder of nudes in nature had had a supporting means
not to be disturbed by this very disastrous association and had
been prevented from being thrown out of the artistic experience
by this association by another underlying association: the association
of the figure in the painting with the figures of myth--with Aphrodite,
with Artemis. Association with the model had been prevented by
a sheer psychological non-artistic means perhaps, but still it
was a means that kept the beholder within the artistic experience
and once this final hold of myth broke down, it became an almost
unsolvable problem to prevent this association with the model.
Manet in his “Women in the Green” prevented this
by a trick. He placed in the landscape along with the nudes fully
dressed men. By this means the non-artistic association of the
beholder was rendered artistic by the means of a sheer intellectual
performance by making the beholder ashamed to associate a living
woman with the nudes in the picture. Renoir too--the late Renoir--managed
to avoid this association and to bring about a unity through his
discovery of a great invention of Titian’s--that the being
of Woman, the being of a “She” could dominate the
whole cosmos. The late Renoir, by understanding that the over-all
experience of the phenomenon Woman could give insight into certain
human experiences, was able to re-unite the nude with nature (which
technically he achieved by making nature a sort of decoration
around his nude--a sort of cottony softness around her) to a point
where the stream of life of Woman united with all the stream of
life and to achieve in such a picture a work of art where there
was no possibility for the beholder to fall out of the artistic
experience because it concentrated on giving to the beholder the
essence of experience--which related in turn to certain past experiences
of the beholder himself and enriched them.
Now we have a very excellent means here with this question of
the nude to make a further inquiry into the workings of kitsch
and to see what happens to the beholder when he looks at a nude
in a work of art and when he looks at a nude produced by kitsch--when
he looks for example at a late Renoir nude and when he looks at
a very common form of kitsch: so-called “calendar art”
or the “Esquire”-type nude. Both a Renoir nude and
an “Esquire” girl are images--and, as far as material
reality is concerned, images of unreality. Both are images that
use lines and colors and certain means to arouse sensations and
to appeal to the senses; both try to convey something to the senses--but
what does the artistic image through the means of line and color
and so on want to convey to the senses and what does the non-artistic
one want to convey? What is the relation of the artistic image
to the beholder and what is the relation of the non-artistic image
to the beholder?
The artistic image--the Renoir nude--relates as soon as the essence
of experience is made concrete (to mention only one point or contact
first) to the woman the beholder loves. The non-artistic image
does just the opposite--the “Esquire” girl disrupts
the beholder’s contact with the woman he loves and is especially
intended to thrust him into an inartistic experience, into error
and the wrong kind of reality. An artistic image via the senses
has the quality of being able through an unreality (which, as
we have seen, all images are in relation to material reality)
to put us into a reality--the reality of a human experience. An
artistic image can, so to speak, root us in the world; it can,
though it never pretends to be the reality of the world, bring
us into reality by engaging us in an inner dialogue. A mere image--an
artistic one--via our senses can bring to our mind an experience
and can engage the mind in an experience where our own experiences
are enriched. By leaving us completely free an artistic image
can make our senses into servants of our mind--using our senses
to convey an experience to our mind. A non-artistic image by throwing
us out of artistic experience excites our senses and by means
of the senses enslaves the mind by excluding us from the mind.
So the effect exerted on the senses of a beholder by an artistic
image in a work of art is that of working on the senses of the
beholder in such a way that an experience of the mind can be given
by purely sensual means. With kitsch, on the other hand, instead
of the miracle that can be brought about by art--putting us into
the reality of an experience--a devilish kind of black magic takes
place--and by the same means: the senses. By the senses the beholder
is thrown out of reality altogether and transposed into a fictional
reality with which he tries to identify himself--which means that
he is really bewitched.
Now this brings us to a point where we have to be most careful
(and one which we will touch only preliminarily for now): the
temptation to relate good and evil to art--or at least to relate
evil to kitsch. To try to relate good and evil to art itself means
to try to bring them into the only place--true art--where man
is not in a conflict between good and evil, the one place that
is beyond good and evil, and the one place where last of all a
discussion of good and evil should enter in. To try to relate
evil to kitsch can lead to such statements as “Kitsch is
the evil in art.” (...Hermann Broch)--which implies, of
course, that kitsch is art. We have to be very careful in making
distinctions between art and kitsch not to attribute to kitsch
qualities making it a kind of negative art--which would mean to
completely misunderstand art itself--but rather to make it quite
clear that kitsch is the use of artistic means for an inartistic
or anti-artistic purpose and to direct our inquiry towards finding
out what the difference in the use of means really is.
Now we have seen that by the use of artistic means--means of
line, color, etc., which move via the senses--two entirely different
purposes can be achieved: the artistic one which makes the senses
serve the mind and the non-artistic one which makes the senses
enslave the mind. The real difference between the use of artistic
means for an artistic purpose and for an inartistic or anti-artistic
purpose can perhaps best be described in terms of the difference
between convincing a man in an argument and trying to talk a man
into something, defeating him in an argument. When a man has really
been convinced in an argument it means that he gets into a productive
creative line where he begins to cooperate with the other man
by bringing into the discussion new arguments for the question
at hand out of his own life experience. If a man has been convinced
it means that he can use a truth, that he can contribute to it
and live in that truth. But if a man has been defeated in an argument,
he is merely silenced; he no longer can argue because he no longer
can think of any argument against the question.
Art convinces the beholder by the introduction of an inner dialogue
and by mobilizing his ability to reevaluate his own experiences
in a deeper context with the thing given--and art can only do
this because all human beings have the same inner experience (though
not always necessarily to the same heights and depths of feeling).
Art can only work because of this contact with the beholder’s
own experiences which enables him to get into the creative line
of an inner dialogue where he is able to bring arguments, so to
speak, out of his own inner experience. Art wants to convince--never
to defeat (which is one of the reasons why evil in art is not
possible). Kitsch, on the other hand, wants to defeat; it wants
to talk the beholder into something--until finally he is compelled
to act by the fictional reality the images have created for him.
Now art has one very powerful and wonderful means to protect
the beholder from taking an artistic image as an image of reality
itself: the miracle of form. Form has the wonderful capability
to put the beholder at a distance, so to speak, so that he can
never make that wrong identification that kitsch talks him into
of the image and reality--which amounts to a kind of partial hypnotism.
Since kitsch is formless, the beholder is always without the protection
that form can always give: the negative effect of protecting the
beholder from being talked into the acceptance of a fictional
reality. Certain mass medias, like television and the movies,
through their very technical means seem especially vulnerable
to kitsch, For example: in order to introduce into us by an image
an acceptance of an unreality as fictional reality (that identification
of the unreality of an image with reality itself) one of the best
means is hypnosis--and what better means is there for a certain
kind of hypnosis than a movie theater which by its very darkness
has a tendency immediately to isolate us from ourselves. This
process of isolating us from ourselves is really the very beginning
of hypnosis itself and makes it only too easy for us to get into
a stream of moving images which finally blurs out every control
we have, dissolves every restraint, taking us away from ourselves,
Whether this actually happens or not depends, of course, upon
the movie--whether it is a work of art or whether it is kitsch
to begin with--but the outward means nevertheless are there and
make it immeasurably more difficult to avoid falling into kitsch.
A work of art has only one medium--it speaks to the personality--and
therefore if art is dealing with a mass medium like the movies,
it means that it must speak to masses of personalities directly.
Whether or not it can do this depends upon whether or not it is
a work of art--that is, whether or not it has form.
Now it might be said that a happening of life-giving is the miracle
of art, a happening of death-giving the black magic of kitsch,
and to find out what the strange relation between these two phenomena
in this respect might be we must go back to the Greek gods and
ask Dionysus--because in the mythical context there is a relation
of a very strange nature between life and death to be found in
Dionysos himself and also between Apollon and Dionysos, between
Apollon as the god of clear vision, the god of arts, and Dionysos
as that double god of joy and suffering, who feels everything
and who just lives, so to speak.
Dionysos was conceived of as an insane god--or rather as a god
who fell sometimes into insanity; he was also the god of wine
and, according to Nietzsche (who saw in Dionysos the will to power
that must be put to use by Apollon, the god of seeing) he was
also the god of music. Now what kind of a strange god was this?
A god who seemed to have such double powers of joy, wisdom, and
life--or of tyranny, numbness, suffering and death--and a god
who fell sometimes into insanity! There seems to be a strange
linking here of wine and music to occasional insanity; a strange
relation of certain possibilities of wine and music to certain
symptoms of insanity--to being possessed, being tyrannized, being
enslaved, losing control of the mind; a certain binding together
of life-giving possibilities with death-giving possibilities.
And what could be the strange bond between Apollon--who was conceived
of as the god of clear vision, the god of prophets and seers,
the god of the pictorial arts, the god who had everything in restraint--with
Dionysos, the god of wine, and, as Nietzsche conceived of him,
the god of music--that double god of life and death?
Nietzsche knew very well why he thought of Dionysos as the god
of music. Music is the most subjective expression in art. In its
Dionysian character music can rule us; it can make us dance; it
can put us in certain moods; it can carry us away; it can tyrannize
us--and as such it has always been used in rituals and for such
things as hypnotic dances (as the hypnotic crow dance done by
little girls in Bali). Music--when its very special power over
the senses is not used to convey an experience to the mind--can
be, and is, misused. Even works of art in music, where that experience
for the mind is there for the listening, so to speak, are misused--and
constantly so--by the largest part of the public who get drunk
with music, carried away for sensation without the experience
of the mind. But music is still art--it is only misused.
These same double qualities of giving life or death, giving mastery
or enslavement, are also to be found in that other gift of Dionysos:
the gift of wine. Wine can give us wisdom or it can give us complete
dumbness; it can give us joy or misery; it can enslave or free
us--it is only a question of degree, of how much and why. Drunkenness
enslaves us to our motions and emotions--but what does wine in
only a lesser degree do? It makes us the master of our moods.
This is the double meaning of drunkenness--and it carries a very
clear insight for our inquiry into the phenomenon of kitsch for
kitsch too enslaves the mind, carries it away, and even makes
it act for this fictional reality it is trying to bring us into
by means of the senses.
We have seen that form seems to be the miracle that keeps the
beholder of a work of art at a certain distance, so to speak,
so he can never make that disastrous association of the unreality
of the image with reality, and one of the best means to see how
this really works is in relation to feeling and sentimentality.
Aristotle thought that tragedy brought the beholder into pity
and suffering in order to purify him of these two passions:-I,
as the beholder, suffer with this person on the stage, and I pity
with this person on the stage, and by this identification I suffer
less and pity less--but one thing I do not do: I do not identify
this image of unreality with reality in such a way that it is
possible for me to lose myself in this person on the stage--as
I can and mostly do when I see a movie. I recognize the reality
of an experience that touches my own inner experience when I see
“King Lear”--but I certainly never for a moment believe
either that Lear is a real man or that I am Lear. I do not lose
my own identity in that of the person on the stage.
Now what is being appealed to here when I see a tragedy? My feelings.
And because tragedy as a work of art is form it gives my feelings--here
suffering and pity--form, and by that makes my burden lighter.
Kitsch, on the other hand, appeals to sentimentality. There is
a definition in science of dirt as misplaced matter. Sentimentality
is misplaced feeling, feeling in the wrong place. And how is it
misplaced? By reflection--by the wrong kind of reflection, by
endless reflection and re-reflection on one’s self, meaningless
reflection that is a kind of mirroring and re-mirroring of one’s
self. Odysseus in “The Odyssy” weeps only once--and
when? When at last still unknown he is in his own hall and hears
the bard sing of his, Odysseus’, sufferings, and he weeps.
He is suddenly forced to look at his own sufferings and memory
and tears come, but his tears are a far cry from the tears of
self-pity that come from false reflection and sentimentality,
from the tears that come from permanently reflecting everything
upon one’s self, from the tears that come when the right
feeling that could drive to tears is changed by the wrong kind
of reflection into the false feeling of sentimentality that also
drives to tears--but tears of self-pity. By and because of sentimentality
and wrong reflection we have become such great weepers--weepers
either of tears of self-pity (self-pity as the habit of the wrong
kind of reflection--the habit to reflect permanently upon one’s
self all that happens) or tears of frustration (because frustration
too is only another kind of sentimentality brought about by false
reflection, brought about by not facing experience but by endlessly
reflecting on the feeling of experience).
So as real feeling is used and appealed to in tragedy, sentimentality
is used in kitsch--the sentimentality of false identification.
I, as a beholder of a movie, for example, am put out of business
until there is only the association of things that happen to people
on the screen (where, unfortunately, as we have seen, this identification
is only too easy to make) and my putting myself in their place.
This is not true identification or tragic identification. In tragic
art I can identify my own personality with the tragic hero--with
Lear, with Oedipus--because as true art this image of unreality
puts me into the one reality of art: the reality of experience.
I can identify with the tragic hero because while the experience
is real the distance of form is always there to prevent any pretense
of taking the image of unreality for reality--as in the movies
the hero can be taken as an image of an unreal man who is supposed
to be real. In the movies there is no distance (which means no
form), no reminder that this is not real--and I, as the beholder,
am taken into this fictional reality, losing myself, being driven
to tears by sentimentality and false identification, Kitsch produces
a stupor that is as bad as constant alcoholism--a stupor that
works on the mind, enslaving it, deadening it. Kitsch is a destroyer--a
destroyer of personalities--and one that can be and has been put
to use by a totalitarian system for the systematic destruction
of the personality. Since works of art are the only things created
by human beings that always enforce freedom--that always speak
directly to the personality, training it, enriching it, but never
trying to take it away to put it to some non-artistic use--it
is small wonder that in a totalitarian system kitsch and the hatred
growing against art today are not only used but are put to systematic
use against the personality, against freedom. This means conversely,
does it not, that if man wants to be a free, whole human personality
who can act to put meaning into the world, and not merely be acted
upon, who can condition and not merely be conditioned (which is
man’s great possibility), that the existence of the two
human creative abilities that are most closely related to freedom--art
and philosophy--are a matter of life and death to him. And make
no mistake about it, in an age where we have seen the full consequences
of what loss of freedom and the human personality can mean, art
and philosophy have become a matter of life and death for
man--art because it re-enforces man’s freedom, so to speak,
by speaking directly to the human personality, strengthening it,
enriching it, but always leaving it free; philosophy because it
is the one creative human activity that is directly concerned
with freedom, that cares first for freedom.
<<Previous | 1
| 2 | 3 | 4
| 5 | 6
| 7 | 8
| 9 | 10
| 11 | 12
| 13 | Next>>