I am trying to get a grasp what Rancière has to say for everyday aesthetics. To this end I have been reading Ben Highmore's book Ordinary Lives: Studies in the Everyday. Highmore shares with me an interest in "whittling a quotidian aesthetics out of the forest of philosophical aesthetics." (44) and he finds inspiration in
Rancière. I find Rancière obscure and confusing, so I am looking for help here, especially because he seems to be, as Highmore puts it, the "theorist of choice" amongst many contemporary artists. Highmore talks about Rancière being alive to "the production and necessary confusion between aesthetics as a general field describing the realm of sensate perception, and the more limited meaning relevant to the field of art." This seems to be connected with the last two hundred rears of art as it moved from romanticism to realism, impressionism, abstraction, etc., and which recognized the ordinary. This corresponds to my own thinking, for example in the section of The Extraordinary in the Ordinary called "Everyday aesthetics in the various art traditions." (I suppose I should have incorporated Rancière into my discussion...you can only do so much.) I am enough a child of the Anglo-American tradition to prefer clarity to confusion, and so do not much like privileging the word "confusion." However we could interpret this as a matter of breaking down some of the rigid boundaries between art aesthetics and everyday aesthetics, which is precisely what I advocate in my book.
Rancière calls the more general economy of the aesthetic the "distribution of the sensible" a distribution that is managed, in his view, by various "policing" activities which determine what is visible and what not. So his thinking is that there can be activities, whether aesthetic or political, that disrupt this policing. I am still trying to figure out what this really means beyond the fact that in any society some people are in position to control at least some of what gets displayed and what does not both in the artworld and in everyday life. However one thing that is helpful is his reference in Aesthetics and its Discontents (2009) to an example from the novelist Stendahl who speaks of how noises from his childhood, the ringing church bells, a water pump, etc., the water pump being "potentially glorious noise." This corresponds to my idea of "the extraordinary in the ordinary" especially as expressed in the last chapter of my book. Rancière then speaks of a "new education of the senses informed by the insignificant noises and events of ordinary life" (6). Like me, Rancière stresses the dynamic interaction between art and everyday life, where art, in describing the sensorial realm, constitutes the forms of common life. As Highmore puts it, art during this period (the last 200 years), makes what was insignificant significant: this is by way of "aesthetic and political disruptions performed in the name of democracy." (Highmore, 46)
Highmore observes that in Rancière's doctoral thesis The Nights of Labor: The Worker's Dream in Nineteenth-Century France(1981,1989 Engl. tr.) he speaks of how the workers of France did not unite in demanding dignity of labor (as Marx would have expected) so much as focus on living a bohemian life of freedom (through writing poetry, painting, etc.) in their off-work hours. So, for Rancière, this is true politics, which is a disruption of expected distributions of space, time and sense (the sensible). ("True politics" is on his view a politics of radical democracy, what we would call "progressive" politics.) So, as Highmore puts it "When Stendhal hears the noise of the water pump as significant he is not simply adding 'water pumps' to the list of things worth listening to. The redistribution of the sensible inaugurates (continuously) the possibility of everything and anything being significant..." (48) (This parallels the claim of Paul Ziff that anything can be the proper object of aesthetic perception, as discussed in my book.) This moment is one of "subjectification" which Rancière describes as "the opening up of a subject space where anyone can be counted since it is the space where those of no account are counted." (Rancière, 1999).
Highmore further stresses that for Rancière the "aesthetic regime of art" downplays the distinction between abstract and realist art. Just as paintings of cooks allow that anything can be the subject of art, so too abstract paintings. Rancière calls this "the ruin of the whole hierarchical conception of art which places ...history painting above genre painting, etc." (Rancière, 2005) Again Rancière writes that (as always, here, I am quoting from Highmore's book) "According to the logic of the esthetic regime of art, in order for photography or the cinema to belong to art, their subjects first had to belong to art. Everything that could be taken in by a glance had to have been already susceptible to being something artistic; the insignificant had in itself to be potentially art. The rupture of the system of representation was first brought about by what was so ineptly called 'realism'; this 'realism' held that not only was everything that was represented equal, but also there there was an inherent splendour to the insignificant." Rancière, "Cinematograpic Image, Democracy, and the 'Splendor of the Insignificant'" interview, Sites, 4:2 (2000) 18-23. As Highmore observes, when the arts do this to the insignificant this is a "training ground, sensitizing us to the textures and tempos the daily." (51)
In the end however, I wonder whether paying attention the the everyday is such a strike for democracy. Although I am deeply sympathetic to democracy (and political progressivism) one might also note that whereas the high art that focuses on these things is usually the product of the interests of the educated elite, the working class interest (at least in our time) is focused on popular art and advertisement-driven consumption of mass-produced products. Some would say that the working class mainly notices what some people have spent a lot of money to assure that they do notice: is this a move in the direction of democracy? This may not be entirely fair to the working class, however, since working class people seem focused equally on aesthetic phenomena that are centered on family life or on the spontaneous cultural products of small groups of peers. Nonetheless, "the aesthetic regime of art" that Rancière describes is not a primary interest of theirs. They are not readers of Art Forum, which devoted a special section to the thought of Rancière in March 2007.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Monday, October 8, 2012
On "The Constructivist's Dilemma" by Robert Stecker Part 1
"By a constructivist, I mean someone who holds the view that artworks are constructed not merely by the artists, but also by other people who interpret these objects." On this view it is unlikely that I would want to be a constructivist. Artists make artworks usually by putting things together, and always by doing something (for example by displaying a urinal on its side in an art gallery with R. Mutt signed in black ink.) Interpreters either create understandings of artworks in their minds (which itself is a kind of making, but not really part of making the artwork in question) or they make their own artifacts, i.e. essays or books called "interpretations." What I do think is that when artists make artworks (construct them) they do not incorporate into them entirely determinate meaning. The meaning of a work of art is something that exists as a potential in the work of art and is actualized in various interpretations. Thus there can be multiple good interpretations of the same work of art, although some of these might be better (for certain purposes) than others. If, by constructivist, Stecker means someone who believes that there is no one final correct interpretation of a literary work then I would be happy to be called a constructivist.
Stecker also says that some constructivists claim that interpretations "alter the properties (features, aspects) of artworks... in interesting ways." Stecker is right: this too is an unattractive option. However, much depends on whether actualization of a meaning that exists as potential in the text is a matter of altering properties. It is certainly a matter of producing change in the world: there is now an actualized meaning that did not exist earlier. Moreover, this is a meaning of the work. If this is altering properties (assuming that such actualizations are what Stecker would call "interesting") then this definition of constructionism is attractive.Of course part of my view would be that one actualization does not permanently change the artwork except in the minor way that that particular actualization has been "taken" and therefor is not available for any later interpreter who seeks to be original and interesting. Certainly the field of potentiality is subtly changed by every interpretation. So the history of interpretations affect works in this way.
Stecker says that "A radical constructivist claims that every new interpretation creates a new work, even if each starts out from the same 'text.' On this view the only difference between an artist and a critic or an interpreter is that the artist creates a 'text' that gets made into a work by being given an interpretation, while the critic or interpreter borrows a text." Stecker thinks this distinction depends on seeing what we get from the artist as blank marks until given an interpretation. I agree that it seems wrong to think every new interpretation of Hamlet would create a new Hamlet. Hamlet remains the same and each interpretation is an interpretation of that same thing. But is Hamlet the same thing by way of having the same determinate meaning which some interpretations get right and some wrong? This is equally implausible. Hamlet is a text that can be read with various understandings, some better than others, and which can be responded to by writing interpretive texts, some also better than others. Hamlet is not just a series of words, but something that was created at a certain time by a certain person: and this set of facts conditions the history of its interpretation...determines what is possible.
Stecker writes "If the text of the poem lacks a meaning to be found there, the text of the essay [that interprets it] should be no less opaque" and "something has to have meaning rather than be given it, or the giving of meaning will not be possible." However if the text of the poem lacks a determinate meaning because the author intends us to use out imagination in reading it then the text of the essay that interprets it should be less opaque. A reading gives a text of this sort more determinate meaning. But isn't this the case for the vast majority of literary works. Aren't they supposed to engage our imaginations and be significant for us. If they simply recorded pre-set meanings in the minds of their authors wouldn't they then be dead in the literary sense/
Stecker also says that some constructivists claim that interpretations "alter the properties (features, aspects) of artworks... in interesting ways." Stecker is right: this too is an unattractive option. However, much depends on whether actualization of a meaning that exists as potential in the text is a matter of altering properties. It is certainly a matter of producing change in the world: there is now an actualized meaning that did not exist earlier. Moreover, this is a meaning of the work. If this is altering properties (assuming that such actualizations are what Stecker would call "interesting") then this definition of constructionism is attractive.Of course part of my view would be that one actualization does not permanently change the artwork except in the minor way that that particular actualization has been "taken" and therefor is not available for any later interpreter who seeks to be original and interesting. Certainly the field of potentiality is subtly changed by every interpretation. So the history of interpretations affect works in this way.
Stecker says that "A radical constructivist claims that every new interpretation creates a new work, even if each starts out from the same 'text.' On this view the only difference between an artist and a critic or an interpreter is that the artist creates a 'text' that gets made into a work by being given an interpretation, while the critic or interpreter borrows a text." Stecker thinks this distinction depends on seeing what we get from the artist as blank marks until given an interpretation. I agree that it seems wrong to think every new interpretation of Hamlet would create a new Hamlet. Hamlet remains the same and each interpretation is an interpretation of that same thing. But is Hamlet the same thing by way of having the same determinate meaning which some interpretations get right and some wrong? This is equally implausible. Hamlet is a text that can be read with various understandings, some better than others, and which can be responded to by writing interpretive texts, some also better than others. Hamlet is not just a series of words, but something that was created at a certain time by a certain person: and this set of facts conditions the history of its interpretation...determines what is possible.
Stecker writes "If the text of the poem lacks a meaning to be found there, the text of the essay [that interprets it] should be no less opaque" and "something has to have meaning rather than be given it, or the giving of meaning will not be possible." However if the text of the poem lacks a determinate meaning because the author intends us to use out imagination in reading it then the text of the essay that interprets it should be less opaque. A reading gives a text of this sort more determinate meaning. But isn't this the case for the vast majority of literary works. Aren't they supposed to engage our imaginations and be significant for us. If they simply recorded pre-set meanings in the minds of their authors wouldn't they then be dead in the literary sense/
Some Partial Answers to some Questions from Students about Kant's Aesthetics
"If a man finds a woman beautiful, but his friend does not, does that mean the woman is not beautiful." No. For Kant, if a man finds a woman beautiful then he puts her on a pedestal and demands that others see her as beautiful too. (This of course makes one think of issues of sexism, but for now just think of the situation as no different from when a woman finds a man is beautiful.) I think Kant believed that if there is a disagreement then one of the two is not being disinterested...is thinking of the issue in terms of practicality, morality or cognition. This raises another issue. What if the man finds his girlfriend beautiful and his friend does not. He then is being "interested" since he really does care that she exists, whereas his friend might well be disinterested. In fact, the man is more likely to find her beautiful because he likes her, whereas the friend is more objective. But then, the beauty of the woman is more important to the man who finds her beautiful than it is to the friend: so shouldn't her have some priority here? This is where Kant's thinking may face a problem.
"When talking about dependent beauty is Kant implying that the beauty of man is not (and could not be) as great as that of a flower since he thinks that it presupposes a concept of a man's end or purpose?" This is a difficult question. Kant does not actually say that free beauty is more beautiful than dependent beauty, although we tend to get that impression. Actually I think that in the end dependent beauty is more important for Kant than free beauty: the beauty of fine art, for example, is dependent beauty. Of course it is strange to us today to think of there being something that defines what a man has to be and thus determines the extent to which a particular man is perfect as a specimen.
"What is the form of finality? It is in the object, but has no purpose?" Kant believes that "Beauty is the form of finality in an object, so far as perceived in it apart from the representation of an end." So, when we see something as beautiful we notice that it has the look of a purpose, i.e. it looks designed, but we do not have the explicit thought of what its purpose might be. This happens with two kinds of object. The first kind is objects that actually have a purpose, or have elements that have a purpose. A flower for example has stamen. These have a purpose in reproduction. So when we look at the flower we are supposed not to think of that actual purpose (even the Botanist!) but only focus on the designed look of the flower. The other kind of object is something that looks designed but there is no clear reason to believe that this design serves a function. We can also find that beautiful.
"Is it possible for an object to be both beautiful and universally agreeable, and if that were possible would that be something like the holy grail of objects?" It would be possible for something to be both beautiful and agreeable, for Kant. It would be beautiful because its look causes the cognitive faculties of imagination and understanding to harmoniously engage in free play (in response to the look of purpose in the object). It would be agreeable because it pleases the senses. So a painting could be beautiful because of its composition and agreeable because of its colors. Universality is a different issue: Kant believed that all humans have imagination and understanding that are basically the same (he seems not to have any reason to believe this). He believed that when it comes to our sense organs, however, each of us is different. So universality would be much more difficult when it comes to the agreeable.
"Doesn't everyone have their own definition of beauty that doesn't necessarily agree with everyone, and hence they can call something beautiful without having to please everyone?" Kant does not believe that you have to please everyone when you call something beautiful or even that the object you call beautiful has to please everyone. It has to please everyone who is looking at it in a disinterested way and focusing on the designed or design-like look that can cause the mind to go into free play. Whether everyone has their own definition of beauty is another question. Very few people have their own explicit definition of beauty, but it is true that everyone has a different set of things they consider or have considered beautiful, and you might argue that this is based on their having a different implicit definition of beauty. I am not sure everyone does have an implicit definition since even an implicit definition requires some rules, and it may just be that the sets of things considered beautiful by many people are just arbitrary sets. Perhaps you could say that everyone has at least some general idea of what they consider to be beautiful. In any case, Kant would say that beauty does not depend on a definition. It depends on how our faculties respond to a thing that has a look of purpose when we view it in a disinterested fashion.
"If something pleases everybody, is there a need for a standard of taste?" You probably still do since you do not know whether it pleases everyone because it is agreeable, morally good, or beautiful. You need a standard of taste to distinguish these.
"Is there anything that, when looked at by anybody, would give them a jaw-dropping experience of awe and appreciation?" This question may presuppose another definition of "beauty" than Kant would accept, i.e. one that entails jaw-droppingness. Kant would probably reply that there are lots of things that that would cause anybody and everybody to be pleased in appreciating it aesthetically as long as they approach it with disinterestedness and focused on the form of finality in the object in such a way as to cause imagination and understanding to go into free play.
"A child may not have background scientific knowledge on a subject, allowing him or her to easily have an aesthetic experience on Kant's view. Can one really set aside background knowledge about a subject when viewing it aesthetically?" I think we can set aside things that we know simply by not thinking about them. So the botanist could just not think about the function of the stamen when appreciating a flower. It might take some training however to do this. The "child" question is interesting since the child could also be disinterested in the sense of not thinking about moral issues and not being interested in such practical issues as monetary or sexual reward. Moreover, the imagination and understanding of a child are constantly in free play: that is what we get the word "play" from: from what a child does. So it would seem that contrary to Hume, who stresses experience, the ideal Kantian judge would be a child, or a playful disinterested child who has an eye for the look of design. That seems odd.
"When talking about dependent beauty is Kant implying that the beauty of man is not (and could not be) as great as that of a flower since he thinks that it presupposes a concept of a man's end or purpose?" This is a difficult question. Kant does not actually say that free beauty is more beautiful than dependent beauty, although we tend to get that impression. Actually I think that in the end dependent beauty is more important for Kant than free beauty: the beauty of fine art, for example, is dependent beauty. Of course it is strange to us today to think of there being something that defines what a man has to be and thus determines the extent to which a particular man is perfect as a specimen.
"What is the form of finality? It is in the object, but has no purpose?" Kant believes that "Beauty is the form of finality in an object, so far as perceived in it apart from the representation of an end." So, when we see something as beautiful we notice that it has the look of a purpose, i.e. it looks designed, but we do not have the explicit thought of what its purpose might be. This happens with two kinds of object. The first kind is objects that actually have a purpose, or have elements that have a purpose. A flower for example has stamen. These have a purpose in reproduction. So when we look at the flower we are supposed not to think of that actual purpose (even the Botanist!) but only focus on the designed look of the flower. The other kind of object is something that looks designed but there is no clear reason to believe that this design serves a function. We can also find that beautiful.
"Is it possible for an object to be both beautiful and universally agreeable, and if that were possible would that be something like the holy grail of objects?" It would be possible for something to be both beautiful and agreeable, for Kant. It would be beautiful because its look causes the cognitive faculties of imagination and understanding to harmoniously engage in free play (in response to the look of purpose in the object). It would be agreeable because it pleases the senses. So a painting could be beautiful because of its composition and agreeable because of its colors. Universality is a different issue: Kant believed that all humans have imagination and understanding that are basically the same (he seems not to have any reason to believe this). He believed that when it comes to our sense organs, however, each of us is different. So universality would be much more difficult when it comes to the agreeable.
"Doesn't everyone have their own definition of beauty that doesn't necessarily agree with everyone, and hence they can call something beautiful without having to please everyone?" Kant does not believe that you have to please everyone when you call something beautiful or even that the object you call beautiful has to please everyone. It has to please everyone who is looking at it in a disinterested way and focusing on the designed or design-like look that can cause the mind to go into free play. Whether everyone has their own definition of beauty is another question. Very few people have their own explicit definition of beauty, but it is true that everyone has a different set of things they consider or have considered beautiful, and you might argue that this is based on their having a different implicit definition of beauty. I am not sure everyone does have an implicit definition since even an implicit definition requires some rules, and it may just be that the sets of things considered beautiful by many people are just arbitrary sets. Perhaps you could say that everyone has at least some general idea of what they consider to be beautiful. In any case, Kant would say that beauty does not depend on a definition. It depends on how our faculties respond to a thing that has a look of purpose when we view it in a disinterested fashion.
"If something pleases everybody, is there a need for a standard of taste?" You probably still do since you do not know whether it pleases everyone because it is agreeable, morally good, or beautiful. You need a standard of taste to distinguish these.
"Is there anything that, when looked at by anybody, would give them a jaw-dropping experience of awe and appreciation?" This question may presuppose another definition of "beauty" than Kant would accept, i.e. one that entails jaw-droppingness. Kant would probably reply that there are lots of things that that would cause anybody and everybody to be pleased in appreciating it aesthetically as long as they approach it with disinterestedness and focused on the form of finality in the object in such a way as to cause imagination and understanding to go into free play.
"A child may not have background scientific knowledge on a subject, allowing him or her to easily have an aesthetic experience on Kant's view. Can one really set aside background knowledge about a subject when viewing it aesthetically?" I think we can set aside things that we know simply by not thinking about them. So the botanist could just not think about the function of the stamen when appreciating a flower. It might take some training however to do this. The "child" question is interesting since the child could also be disinterested in the sense of not thinking about moral issues and not being interested in such practical issues as monetary or sexual reward. Moreover, the imagination and understanding of a child are constantly in free play: that is what we get the word "play" from: from what a child does. So it would seem that contrary to Hume, who stresses experience, the ideal Kantian judge would be a child, or a playful disinterested child who has an eye for the look of design. That seems odd.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Hegel for Artists
I am interested in what we can get from the writings of classical authors like Hegel given how different we are from them, and how different
our world is. This is a matter of taking
their ideas as symbols or metaphors for something they never intended, but
something which is important to us. It
might be that their ideas bear a structural similarity to what is important to
us. So, Hegel says that the purpose of
art is to express the Absolute idea, which I take to mean (in this broader
sense of “mean”) something like this:
that there is a spiritual aspect of our existence (not one that requires a special spiritual realm or special spiritual beings) and that this aspect
(as when we are moved by the inner spirit of something) does involve a striving towards self-understanding (at least in part), that
art (or at least really good art) participates in this, and that there is a kind of development or progress
here (although we, or at least I, cannot go along with the idea of an absolute
development or a final goal that may be finally achieved.) The Hegelian idea that the content of a work
of art must be concrete to reveal truth is easy enough to interpret in this way:
it is simply that the content of art should not be too abstract. If it is too abstract it will fail to give us
the kind of truth we are looking for here, a truth that is significant for us
concrete, living, breathing, human minds….a truth that matches us and our lives
in a meaningful way. So, on this view,
purely abstract notions have no real business being the subject matter of art,
or better yet, even when we try to make purely abstract art, the content of
that is still the concrete aspects of life that are being expressed.
Although Hegel is clearly just ethnocentric
which he sees the Chinese, Hindu and Egyptian art as “vicious and false” he
does capture something in the notion that there is a stage in the development
of an art form in which both the form and the content are crude (think of the
early Beatles) and things are indeterminate but at the same time powerful,
perhaps powerful partly in their very crudeness. The early symbolic stage of an art style is
full of potential and high in energy, but short on refinement. It is symbolic since the symbols are obvious: they have to be read. (Later stages are still symbolic but not in the sense that there is a one-to-one reading of symbols, but in a more pervasive way in which a new world is set up that symbolizes our world as a whole.) The content is refined as the form is
refined (e.g. through what Hegel called the classical and romantic stages), as can be seen in the increasingly sophisticated lyrics in Beatles
songs.
I would go further to argue (and
I wouldn’t be the first one to do so) that the notion of dialectic is still
relevant to art, e.g. that it makes sense to speak of a movement in art as
forming a thesis, another as forming its antithesis, and a third as involving a
synthesis that opposes the second by going back in some ways to the first. Although Hegel sees this sequence as
eventually ending, it makes more sense to see it as unending, each synthesis
becoming a new thesis, or perhaps simply by being replaced by a new thesis which itself starts the story again at the symbolic stage. Of course this means that Hegel failed to explain this last transition.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
The Extraordinary in the Ordinary: The Aesthetics of Everyday Life
I realize I neglected to advertise my book, published earlier this year, on this blog. The information made available by the publisher is given below. But first I want to mention something strange. There are a number of people offering this book on the web for outrageous sums of money. This is funny and sad since you can purchase it through Broadview Press for under $30, and I just found out Google Play offers an ebook version for only $16.17! Amazon.com, which used to offer it at the Broadview price, is now
offering it for between $43 and $213! Please do not buy it at those
prices.
Also there is a good review of the book by Christopher Dowling at Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews. I have some disagreements with Dowling but overall I thought he was thorough and fair.
This book explores the aesthetics of the objects and environments we encounter in daily life. Thomas Leddy stresses the close relationship between everyday aesthetics and the aesthetics of art, but places special emphasis on neglected aesthetic terms such as 'neat,' 'messy,' 'pretty,' 'lovely,' 'cute,' and 'pleasant.' The author advances a general theory of aesthetic experience that can account for our appreciation of art, nature, and the everyday.
Comments:
"Thomas Leddy offers a comprehensive and compelling treatment of everyday aesthetics, discussing a wide variety of historical and contemporary sources while putting forward an interesting new theory of what it is to have an aesthetic experience. This engaging book is suitable for students, scholars, and anyone wishing to enrich their experience of everyday life." - Sherri Irvin, University of Oklahoma
"The Extraordinary in the Ordinary is a significant contribution to the newly important field of everyday aesthetics. The book provides an excellent critical overview of work in this field to date, but more importantly breaks new ground by extending our understanding of aesthetic experience and of the properties we encounter in that experience." - Robert Stecker, Central Michigan University
"Discussion of everyday aesthetics has been gaining momentum in recent years, and as well as developing his own theory of everyday aesthetics and of aesthetic experience more broadly construed, Leddy has produced an invaluable reflective consolidation of the work of major contributors to the discipline, past and present." - Christopher Dowling, Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews
Thomas Leddy is Professor of Philosophy at San Jose State University.
*Academics please note that this is a title classified as having a restricted allocation of complimentary copies; complimentary copies remain readily available to adopters and to academics very likely to adopt this title in the coming academic year. When adoption possibilities are less strong and/or further in the future, academics are requested to purchase the title at an academic discount, with the proviso that Broadview will happily refund the purchase price (with or without a receipt) if the book is indeed adopted.
Table of Contents:
Introduction
Chapter 2: Aesthetic Experience and Aesthetic Properties
Chapter 3: Everyday Aesthetics and the Environment
Chapter 5: A Bestiary of Aesthetic Terms for Everyday Contexts
Chapter 6: Criticisms Actual and Possible
Chapter 7: Everyday Surface Aesthetic Qualities
Chapter 8: Everyday Aesthetics and the Sublime
Conclusion
Also there is a good review of the book by Christopher Dowling at Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews. I have some disagreements with Dowling but overall I thought he was thorough and fair.
This book explores the aesthetics of the objects and environments we encounter in daily life. Thomas Leddy stresses the close relationship between everyday aesthetics and the aesthetics of art, but places special emphasis on neglected aesthetic terms such as 'neat,' 'messy,' 'pretty,' 'lovely,' 'cute,' and 'pleasant.' The author advances a general theory of aesthetic experience that can account for our appreciation of art, nature, and the everyday.
Comments:
"Thomas Leddy offers a comprehensive and compelling treatment of everyday aesthetics, discussing a wide variety of historical and contemporary sources while putting forward an interesting new theory of what it is to have an aesthetic experience. This engaging book is suitable for students, scholars, and anyone wishing to enrich their experience of everyday life." - Sherri Irvin, University of Oklahoma
"The Extraordinary in the Ordinary is a significant contribution to the newly important field of everyday aesthetics. The book provides an excellent critical overview of work in this field to date, but more importantly breaks new ground by extending our understanding of aesthetic experience and of the properties we encounter in that experience." - Robert Stecker, Central Michigan University
"Discussion of everyday aesthetics has been gaining momentum in recent years, and as well as developing his own theory of everyday aesthetics and of aesthetic experience more broadly construed, Leddy has produced an invaluable reflective consolidation of the work of major contributors to the discipline, past and present." - Christopher Dowling, Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews
Thomas Leddy is Professor of Philosophy at San Jose State University.
*Academics please note that this is a title classified as having a restricted allocation of complimentary copies; complimentary copies remain readily available to adopters and to academics very likely to adopt this title in the coming academic year. When adoption possibilities are less strong and/or further in the future, academics are requested to purchase the title at an academic discount, with the proviso that Broadview will happily refund the purchase price (with or without a receipt) if the book is indeed adopted.
Table of Contents:
Introduction
Part I: The Domain of Everyday Aesthetics
Chapter 1: The Nature of Everyday AestheticsChapter 2: Aesthetic Experience and Aesthetic Properties
Chapter 3: Everyday Aesthetics and the Environment
Part II: A Theory of Everyday Aesthetics
Chapter 4: Aesthetic Experience as Experience of Objects with AuraChapter 5: A Bestiary of Aesthetic Terms for Everyday Contexts
Chapter 6: Criticisms Actual and Possible
Chapter 7: Everyday Surface Aesthetic Qualities
Chapter 8: Everyday Aesthetics and the Sublime
Conclusion
Friday, September 7, 2012
Hume on Prejudice
Normally when we think of prejudice we simply think of certain negative preconceptions we may have about the object under consideration. Hume, in "Of the Standard of Taste" insists that lack of prejudice is one of the characteristics of the good judge. But what is this lack of prejudice? It turns out to be something very positive and very specific. We first learn that every work of art should be surveyed from the point of view that is required for the performance. Lack of prejudice is taking this point of view.
Hume explains this rather oddly. He speaks of how an orator must take into account the point of view of his audience, and especially needs to address any prejudices they might have against him: he needs to acquire their good graces before he can convince them of anything. So, are we to act like such an orator when we appreciate art without prejudice? No. Hume is simply bringing up the orator as preliminary to the main point. Now, he turns to the "critic of a different age or nation" who, upon looking at the speech of the orator in question, needs to take all of this into account. He must "place himself in the same situation as the audience in order to form a true judgment of the oration." One might think that he should put himself in the place of the orator himself. But, for Hume, lack of prejudice is a matter of trying to put oneself back into the time of first production or publication and trying to make oneself susceptible to the powers of the orator or author, as an audience member of the time might have been.
It is only after this that Hume brings up the point that would normally come first to mind when thinking about prejudice, that if we are either a friend or enemy of an author (presumably a contemporary one) we should put these feelings aside and consider ourselves to be men in general. "Don't be prejudiced" here means "don't think about your friendship with or enmity against the author" and don't let it influence you, even unconsciously.
What is odd here is that in the example regarding the past we are supposed to immerse ourselves in the particular situation of the audience, whereas in this example we are to detach ourselves from our own particular situation.
Hume tries, however, to combine the two when he says "A person influenced by prejudice, complies not with this condition; but obstinately maintains his natural position, without placing himself in that point of view, which the performance supposes." The general idea, then, is lack of prejudice is placing oneself in the point of view supposed by the author (perhaps even with the prejudices the author's audience originally had and which the author is trying to overcome!)
Although trying to put yourself into the position of the intended audience is a good idea I also think it valuable sometimes to switch to another position that is closer to one's own "natural position." We can more strongly feel what is said when the work speaks to us as we are and not just as we would be if we lived in another country or time. I think we need to toggle between the two positions (to use Peg Brand's term).
Another oddity is that when Hume, at the end of his essay, begins to speak of innocent sources of variation he stresses our inability to enter into other times. For example, an older man cannot enter into the sentiments of a younger man and hence, presumably, can no longer appreciate the erotic poetry of Ovid. But isn't that what "lack of prejudice" was all about, i.e. overcoming one's natural position? He says that we, here, cannot "divest ourselves of those propensities which are natural to us." But that is what he was requiring of us previously when he said that we should lack prejudice! Of course we are going to be "more pleased, in the course of our reading, with pictures and characters, that resemble objects which are found in our own age or country, than with those which describe a different set of customs": but lack of prejudice is supposed to overcome this. Also, isn't it hilarious that the example Hume uses for something extremely difficult to overcome is seeing a princess carrying water or a king cutting his own meat -- something that doesn't bother us egalitarians at all?
Hume explains this rather oddly. He speaks of how an orator must take into account the point of view of his audience, and especially needs to address any prejudices they might have against him: he needs to acquire their good graces before he can convince them of anything. So, are we to act like such an orator when we appreciate art without prejudice? No. Hume is simply bringing up the orator as preliminary to the main point. Now, he turns to the "critic of a different age or nation" who, upon looking at the speech of the orator in question, needs to take all of this into account. He must "place himself in the same situation as the audience in order to form a true judgment of the oration." One might think that he should put himself in the place of the orator himself. But, for Hume, lack of prejudice is a matter of trying to put oneself back into the time of first production or publication and trying to make oneself susceptible to the powers of the orator or author, as an audience member of the time might have been.
It is only after this that Hume brings up the point that would normally come first to mind when thinking about prejudice, that if we are either a friend or enemy of an author (presumably a contemporary one) we should put these feelings aside and consider ourselves to be men in general. "Don't be prejudiced" here means "don't think about your friendship with or enmity against the author" and don't let it influence you, even unconsciously.
What is odd here is that in the example regarding the past we are supposed to immerse ourselves in the particular situation of the audience, whereas in this example we are to detach ourselves from our own particular situation.
Hume tries, however, to combine the two when he says "A person influenced by prejudice, complies not with this condition; but obstinately maintains his natural position, without placing himself in that point of view, which the performance supposes." The general idea, then, is lack of prejudice is placing oneself in the point of view supposed by the author (perhaps even with the prejudices the author's audience originally had and which the author is trying to overcome!)
Although trying to put yourself into the position of the intended audience is a good idea I also think it valuable sometimes to switch to another position that is closer to one's own "natural position." We can more strongly feel what is said when the work speaks to us as we are and not just as we would be if we lived in another country or time. I think we need to toggle between the two positions (to use Peg Brand's term).
Another oddity is that when Hume, at the end of his essay, begins to speak of innocent sources of variation he stresses our inability to enter into other times. For example, an older man cannot enter into the sentiments of a younger man and hence, presumably, can no longer appreciate the erotic poetry of Ovid. But isn't that what "lack of prejudice" was all about, i.e. overcoming one's natural position? He says that we, here, cannot "divest ourselves of those propensities which are natural to us." But that is what he was requiring of us previously when he said that we should lack prejudice! Of course we are going to be "more pleased, in the course of our reading, with pictures and characters, that resemble objects which are found in our own age or country, than with those which describe a different set of customs": but lack of prejudice is supposed to overcome this. Also, isn't it hilarious that the example Hume uses for something extremely difficult to overcome is seeing a princess carrying water or a king cutting his own meat -- something that doesn't bother us egalitarians at all?
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
David Hume's Problem with The Pretty
In David Hume's "Of the Standard of Taste" there is a distinction between lesser and greater beauties that intrigues me in relation to my current interest in the concept of the pretty. Hume argues that the true standard of taste is the good judge. In this entry I will assume that readers have a basic grasp of Hume's well known article. What is interesting is that in at least two of his discussions of what goes into being a good judge he brings up the problem of a lesser form of beauty. Although Hume does not mention the word "pretty" anywhere in his essay, these passages lead to a conviction that he is particularly concerned to keep people from confusing trivial with important beauties. This is exactly the sort of distinction that is commonly made between the pretty and the beautiful.
When discussing the value of comparison, he writes: "The coarsest daubing contains a certain lustre of colours and exactness of imitation, which are so far beauties, and would affect the mind of a peasant or Indian with the highest admiration. [Hume's racism is unfortunately on display here.] The most vulgar ballads are not entirely destitute of harmony or nature; and none but a person, familiarized to superior beauties, would pronounce their numbers harsh, or narration uninteresting. A great inferiority of beauty gives pain to a person conversant in the highest excellence of the kind, and is for that reason pronounced [rightly so, according to Hume] a deformity.." It appears that the coarse daubings with lusterous colors and exact imitation have a certain low-level beauty, as do "vulgar ballads," since they are "not destitute of harmony." Hume observes that the person who knows "superior beauties" knows the distinction. An interesting aspect of this is that this low level beauty can even involve "great inferiority of beauty" so much so that it gives pain to persons of taste. One thinks of the paintings of Thomas Kinkade. The next time he mentions comparison Hume says "Where no comparison has been employed, the most frivolous beauties, such as rather merit the name of defects, are the object of his admiration." So frivolous beauties are really defects, and we can see so through comparing.
The criterion of practice also is related to avoiding these low-level beauties. Hume says, when discussing practice, that "there is a species of beauty, which, as it is florid and superficial, pleases at first; but being found incompatible with a just expression either of reason or passion, soon palls upon the taste, and is then rejected with disdain, at least rated at a much lower value."
Although delicacy of taste can be inherited, it is mainly gained through practice and comparison, and as we have seen, Hume recommends practice and comparison precisely to distinguish between superior beauties and such low-level beauties as the pretty.
When discussing the value of comparison, he writes: "The coarsest daubing contains a certain lustre of colours and exactness of imitation, which are so far beauties, and would affect the mind of a peasant or Indian with the highest admiration. [Hume's racism is unfortunately on display here.] The most vulgar ballads are not entirely destitute of harmony or nature; and none but a person, familiarized to superior beauties, would pronounce their numbers harsh, or narration uninteresting. A great inferiority of beauty gives pain to a person conversant in the highest excellence of the kind, and is for that reason pronounced [rightly so, according to Hume] a deformity.." It appears that the coarse daubings with lusterous colors and exact imitation have a certain low-level beauty, as do "vulgar ballads," since they are "not destitute of harmony." Hume observes that the person who knows "superior beauties" knows the distinction. An interesting aspect of this is that this low level beauty can even involve "great inferiority of beauty" so much so that it gives pain to persons of taste. One thinks of the paintings of Thomas Kinkade. The next time he mentions comparison Hume says "Where no comparison has been employed, the most frivolous beauties, such as rather merit the name of defects, are the object of his admiration." So frivolous beauties are really defects, and we can see so through comparing.
The criterion of practice also is related to avoiding these low-level beauties. Hume says, when discussing practice, that "there is a species of beauty, which, as it is florid and superficial, pleases at first; but being found incompatible with a just expression either of reason or passion, soon palls upon the taste, and is then rejected with disdain, at least rated at a much lower value."
Although delicacy of taste can be inherited, it is mainly gained through practice and comparison, and as we have seen, Hume recommends practice and comparison precisely to distinguish between superior beauties and such low-level beauties as the pretty.
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